#azgeda clarke is a fearsome warrior

[owl127]

Azgeda!Clarke (T)

resurrecting old requests :)

Read on Ao3

It was one of those days where the Coalition meeting brimmed with chaos, a reminder of deeply rooted distrust between clans. Lexa stepped out of the meeting room, where ambassadors still argued in harsh tones and loud voices. On days where escalating insults bordered on violence, Lexa’s hope wavered, but she reminded herself that any sort of heated words were better than civil war. She'd take angry ambassadors over them killing each other's puppies any day.

She nodded at the kind beta who brought her steaming tea, a small reprieve from the battle waiting for her back inside the meeting room. She had barked an order for a short break, the room reeking of alpha and veiled dominance. Lexa had to impose her leadership before things escalated between Floukru and Sangedakru. Another shout rang from the meeting, and Lexa knew Azgeda had entered the argument with the delicacy of a Pauna. 

So much squabbling over the price of salted fish.

The door behind her stretched open, and she had half a mind to wave Titus away, but instead of the submissive presence of her Flamekeeper, another scent enveloped her. 

"Shouldn’t you be inside making sure your ambassadors will not commit murder?" Lexa said sternly, her eyes on her tea. 

The woman behind her pushed back her navy blue hood, her pale scars gleaming silver against her sun-kissed skin."Astrid is a big girl. She can take care of herself."

Lexa did not move other than to look behind her shoulders. "There will be consequences if Azgeda starts a fight."

Unbothered, the intruder took another step, the small chamber behind the meeting room feeling smaller as Lexa breathed her in.

"What kind of consequences?" There was a playful tug to the Azgeda’s smile, teasing, but Lexa did not flinch. 

"Do not take another step if you do not want another mark on that pretty face of yours." 

The smile blossomed into a full grin. 

"You think I’m pretty?"

Green eyes widened slightly at the audacity. A clearing of the throat broke the stare Lexa found herself stuck in, and she turned fully to the door where Titus held it open. The voices from the arguing had died down.

"Heda, the ambassadors are ready to proceed with the meeting," he informed, his eyes avoiding the other presence in the room.

Lexa nodded, noticing how the Azgeda ignored Titus with the same levity as being ignored. 

"Commander." She bowed, and Lexa walked past her, heading back for another round of negotiations. 

"Clarke," she nodded curtly, but Titus' presence had soured the alpha's grin.

It was better that way.

The large meeting room felt hot as Lexa stepped back inside.

000000000

It took another long day of meetings and ordering Titus away from her quarters for Lexa to find herself alone with that scent again. Her fingers rested on an unturned page, and she allowed her shy smile to grow, warming her cheeks. The unfamiliar shrill of nervousness ran down her spine, her belly erupting in expectation.  

The window was carelessly open, with dark curtains fluttering in the wind. Candles burned, forgotten, leaving a hazy scent of flowers to battle the new earthy musk that so uninvitedly affronted Lexa’s nose. 

"I keep forgetting how freaking tall this window is." Clarke, clad in full Azgeda gear, tumbled from the window high in the Polis tower. At the sweaty alpha dusting herself off the floor of her bedroom, Lexa raised one eyebrow. 

"What makes you think you’re welcomed here?"

"The two mean guards at the door who refused to let me in, of course." The big, contagious grin from two days ago had returned. Undeterred, Clarke kicked off her boots and walked to Heda’s bed. 

Lexa watched the confident woman plot unceremoniously next to her, her grin splitting her face in half. Her pale scars danced under the flickering candlelight. When Lexa took her sweet time simply staring at her, the grin turned to the beginning of a frown. 

"Am I not welcome?" Clarke sat on the bed, hands in the air. Her eyebrows knotted in uncertainty, and Lexa finally took pity. 

Lexa reassured her with a warm hand on her cheek. She felt the rigged lines on the tips of her fingers, multiple marks to attest to the warrior’s courage and bravery. A wet tongue met Lexa’s fingers, and she gasped at the touch.

Lexa’s cheeks burned. 

Before Clarke met her in a kiss, Lexa placed a firm hand on her chest. "Don’t pull that again in any other meetings. I do not want to give Titus any more reasons to want your head."

"It was harmless," Clarke defended. Lexa pushed her back again when another kiss was denied. Clarke huffed, her patience never having been a strong virtue.

"No one followed you?" Lexa insisted, clutching at a half-unbuttoned blouse.

"You know I am careful about that." 

"What about the Azgeda ambassador? Won’t she ask about who you’ve been with?"

"I trust Astrid with my life."

"Does she know?" 

"Lexa," Clarke tried, but the omega had turned to stand up from the bed. "We got our scars together. She would never tell."

"The Coalition will be in jeopardy if Nia discovers that her precious general shares my bed," Lexa said mostly to herself, ignoring Clarke's tired sigh. "You will be in danger," she finished with a whisper. 

Lexa had one hand on her chin and the other on her waist, planning different strategies around an irritable Nia to avoid any bloodspill. Clarke approached from behind and, with a little coaxing, wrapped her arms around Lexa so she could rest against her chest. 

"The Coalition is important to me too. I would never risk it," she said to Lexa’s hair, taking a deep breath of Heda. "But more than that, I would never jeopardize us."

Lexa wanted to believe her. She wanted to give herself to the alpha that called to her, to the scent that made her legs tremble and her heart flutter. She wanted to be free and to love Clarke.

So she did.

0000

It was always cold in the Ice Nation. Winter braved their lands earlier and was slow to leave. Close to the coughing fireplace inside the room destined for Heda, Lexa’s bones could not warm up under the unrelenting cold. The open window didn’t help, with the wind bringing bits of snow and invading her warm space. The loud wind and undeniable chill that ran through her spine told her of an upcoming storm. 

The Ice Nation was not welcoming in the least. 

She walked closer to the fire, adjusting the coat that covered most of her frame. One hand rested on the wall while the other, against her better judgment, rested on her lower belly, and she could not suppress a small smile. With her back to the open window, Lexa sighed when quiet feet padded into the bedroom. A smile cracked Lexa’s dry lips when a warm presence approached her from behind.

In the seconds that followed, the warming alpha pheromones that Lexa had expected never reached her nose. Instead, gut-clenching fear invaded her system as someone pushed her roughly against the freezing wall. A fighter held her knee immobilized and her left arm behind her back before Lexa could react. Her mouth opened to call for Anya, who guarded the hallway, but the smooth, chill touch of metal reached her neck, pressing just enough to tickle a line of dark blood. 

"Silence," a voice rasped against her ear, teeth gritting in disgust. 

Lexa cursed herself for not being prepared.

Those damn cold lands. 

The blade sank a breath deeper, and Lexa was ready to shove it back and die fighting, but as soon as it happened, the weight behind her vanished. A heavy grunt followed as the body was thrown haphazardly on the floor, and another alpha, now the familiar scent Lexa expected, jumped on top of the assassin’s body to push her own blade deep into a pulsing neck. Blood gurgled from a parted mouth once and twice until the body under Clarke stopped moving altogether.

Under the fire, the blood shone dark, and Lexa ran a hand over the shallow cut on her own throat. 

"I see you already had company." Clarke failed at her attempt at humor, with her eyes ablaze and her hands trembling. Lexa realized she shared her predicament when the warmth of Clarke's embrace enveloped her. They remained united in the silent room for an undefined moment, the fire suddenly loud as their hearts slowed down. 

A warm hand touched Lexa’s neck, gently, padding at the slow trickle of blood. 

"I’m fine," Lexa said with a peck on Clarke’s lip. "Who was this?" She pointed to the still body on the floor, and Clarke cursed under her breath.

"Doesn’t matter right now." She insisted on the pressure on Lexa’s wound, the blood slowing to a stop. "Are you alright?"

Lexa nodded, one hand resting on top of Clarke’s. "I didn’t come here only for the Coalition." The realization of why she was there came back in a warmth that started in her belly, dissolving the panic that the attempt on her life caused. "I needed to talk to you."

"You need to leave. You and your entourage. You’re not safe here." 

Before what happened that night, Lexa would argue. But the body of an assassin had barely been cold, and she knew she couldn’t find a reason to stay. Clarke’s eyes were dark under the flickering light of the fire, concern etched on every crease of her face. Lexa’s finger followed the scar that started on her eyebrow and outlined her face, dying on the tip of her chin. Clarke shuddered under her touch. 

"I’m sorry, my love, but you need to go." It was painful for Clarke to say that. She turned to kiss the tips of Lexa’s fingers. 

"Anya!" Clarke yelled from the bedroom, and Anya and another Azgeda guard appeared at the door. They both looked at the body on the ground and back at Clarke and Lexa. The guard’s blue eyes widened, and he bolted back to the hallway. 

"Don’t let him escape!" Clarke pointed, and Anya did not need to be told twice. 

Once again alone in the bedroom, Clarke clasped Lexa’s cold hands in hers. "Lexa, you need to go. There will be more." She pointed to the body on the floor with her chin, and Lexa gulped. "Azgeda is not stable right now."

Voices escalated in the hallway, with exalted barks of orders in a mix of trigedasleng and the clipped, guttural Azgeda language.

Clarity shone in Lexa’s eyes. "It's a coup," she breathed. 

Clarke nodded. "That’s why I insisted on you not coming," Clarke said in exasperation, her hands tightening around Lexa’s.

"I needed to talk to you, and letters were not safe," Lexa insisted. 

Quietly, Anya appeared at the door again. A splash of blood stained her cheek, but she did not seem to notice. 

"Heda, we are ready to leave," she said in trigedasleng, and Lexa nodded, but didn’t move. 

"Get my horse ready. I will follow." 

Anya seemed reluctant to leave her alone. She exchanged a small nod with Clarke before running back to the dark hallway. 

"You must follow her," Clarke finally turned around, but Lexa grabbed her hand.

"Clarke." Her voice trembled, and her stomach was in knots at being overwhelmed. She took a deep breath, and under the aggression, she found the calm scent she trusted. Steps reverberated from the corridor, and Clarke pushed them further into the room, her body protecting Lexa from whoever ran down the hall. Lexa’s hand closed on Clarke’s shirt, bringing the alpha’s attention back to her. "Clarke," she pleaded once more.

Clarke huffed a breath, exasperated. "I’m the general of the queen, and I’m leading a coup that might overthrow her, so you better have something very important to say or I—"

"I’m pregnant." 

"—will tie you to that horse, and... what?" 

Clarke’s eyes widened, showing she had understood what Lexa said, and her hands went to her shoulders. "What?" she repeated because there was nothing else she could do. Lexa looked down at her hands, which were still gripped tightly on the coarse material of Clarke’s coat. She couldn’t stare the alpha in the eye. 

"That’s what I needed to tell you," Lexa whispered. Clarke’s eyes searched her face, focusing on the fresh wound on her neck, down to her chest, and finally on her covered abdomen. 

"You sure?" Her voice changed, with a tone of reverence overtaking her earlier despair. Lexa found the courage to look up, finding dark blue eyes again and nodding. Not as far away as Clarke hoped, an explosion sounded in the royal Azgeda complex. A cacophony of voices and shouts cut through the night.

They were running out of time. 

Clarke embraced her lover, pulling her as close as she could, a desperate need to engrave the scent in her mind. When they pulled apart, Lexa did not comment on the coat of wetness on the alpha’s eyes. Clarke drew away with a final nod, a trembling hand over Lexa's covered tummy.

"Name her something soft," Clarke said when she looked up. "Soft but strong."

Lexa swallowed nothing as she nodded. Reluctantly, Clarke stepped back.

A bulking figure stopped at the door. Before Lexa could jump away, the tall man exchanged curt words with Clarke in the harsh way they spoke in their native language. Lexa didn't need to understand the language to understand war.

"You need to go," Clarke repeated with a firm hand on Lexa’s back. "Anya is waiting for you outside." With a single kiss to chapped lips, Lexa left the room where, minutes earlier, she had almost died.

Lexa, Anya, and Gustus made it a few miles away from the Azgeda palace before they heard new explosions. 

00000000000

A fortnight had passed since Lexa made it to Polis. The journey under the storm had made her feel sick, but she wasn’t sure if it was worry or the growing pup inside her. Other clans already knew of the battles happening in the Ice Nation, but no one knew who had emerged victorious. The Coalition had vowed to not intervene, and instead wait for the Azgeda leader, whoever that may be: a rebel general or the ice queen. 

It was late into the night when a knock on her quarters' door woke Lexa from a slumber. She had fallen asleep on her desk, reviewing letters from worried ambassadors. The knock repeated, and Lexa groaned, adjusting her shirt before ordering her guards to open the door. 

"Heda, a messenger has arrived." Noticing the urgency, the guard completed, "A messenger from Azgeda." 

Lexa nodded, stepping outside to make the trip to the main floor of the tower, where she met the messenger. When she arrived, with her sash and coat, she greeted the boy with a nod. Snow was still frozen on the pitiful attempt at a mustache on his red face. He couldn’t have more than fourteen summers, but his warrior scars were long healed. 

"A message for Heda Lexa." He took a respectful bow, even though his legs shook in exhaustion. "For Heda’s hand only," he insisted, a folded piece of paper in his hands. 

Lexa took the paper and ordered her guards, "Find him something warm to eat and a place to rest." 

Before the redheaded boy could leave, he bowed once more to Lexa. "A message, Heda, from King Roan." 

Lexa’s heart fluttered at the news. Her eyes remained calm, and she nodded at the boy. 

King Roan.

Not Queen Nia.

She smiled.

0000000

Winter's deep, cold claws were receding from Polis, and the first flowers bravely emerged from the warming soil. With another treaty season on the horizon, new Council meetings loomed, and ambassadors and their representatives filled Polis with different colors and products. The market was as alive as ever, with pups running around among the new scents. 

Black consumed the sky in the late winter night. Lexa shuffled in bed, sleep a hard commodity as her body adjusted to the changes. The wind agitated the curtains, and there was a quiet grunt as a body rolled from the window without a single ounce of grace.

Lexa smiled into her furs.

"Bloody hell, this tower is so high." The woman inhaled deeply from the ground, her arms spread wide across the wooden floor. "Why do you stay on the top floor again?"

"It’s not the top floor."

Clarke made her way from the floor to the bed, and they both sighed in relief as they met in a long-awaited hug. Lexa melted against the arms around her.

"I missed you," Clarke whispered over the intricate braids, nudging the soft skin behind Lexa’s ear. 

"I wasn’t sure if you would make it. Ambassador." She turned to meet Clarke’s eyes, both their hands resting instinctively over Lexa’s belly. Clarke stared between them in awe. 

"You’ve grown."

"Measure your words." 

"I missed you."

"Please use the door next time."

[vmplvr1977]

Azgeda Clarke AU is posted! Read it here: Wicked Game

This is not the story of a Skaikru Princess who led a band of teens to the ground. Instead, our tale follows Klark kom Azgeda, a Natblida and fearsome warrior known by most as Wanheda. Her unlikely friendship with Heda Leksa kom Trikru would forge a new world- ending a cycle of violence and war that had lasted ten generations. But, contrary to popular belief, the tale of Heda and Wanheda did not begin with sworn enemies crossing blades at the Battle of Syra. Nor did their journey commence with the legendary victory over Maun-de, whose song is often heard around campfires or inside alehouses. Instead, their tale began a decade and two winters before the fall of Mount Weather when our two heroes were children. One Azgeda, the other Trikru- sworn enemies for generations. Theirs was an unexpected and complicated friendship, born from a misunderstanding over sweets.

[ao3feed-the100]

Wicked Game

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qj4Nl5V

by vmplvr1977

This is not the story of a Skaikru Princess who led a band of teens to the ground. Instead, our tale follows Klark kom Azgeda, a Natblida and fearsome warrior known by most as Wanheda. Her unlikely friendship with Heda Leksa kom Trikru would forge a new world- ending a cycle of violence and war that had lasted ten generations.

But, contrary to popular belief, the tale of Heda and Wanheda did not begin with sworn enemies crossing blades at the Battle of Syra. Nor did their journey commence with the legendary victory over Maun-de, whose song is often heard around campfires or inside alehouses.

Instead, their tale began a decade and two winters before the fall of Mount Weather when our two heroes were children. One Azgeda, the other Trikru- sworn enemies for generations. Theirs was an unexpected and complicated friendship, born from a misunderstanding over sweets.

Or:

The Ark lands when Clarke is a child. She and Lexa become friends but grow apart through the years. Still, they leave presents for each other in the same tree stump where Lexa hid her lemon cakes. They meet years later as enemies on the battlefield. Will their friendship endure, or will they fight to the death? Read to find out.

Words: 5004, Chapters: 1/15, Language: English

Fandoms: The 100 (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Roan (The 100), Ontari (The 100), Echo (The 100), Nia | Ice Queen, Original Characters, Costia (The 100), Luna (The 100)

Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Ontari, Costia/Lexa (The 100)

Additional Tags: Azgeda Clarke Griffin, Nightblood | Natblida Clarke Griffin, Heda Lexa (The 100), Wanheda Clarke Griffin, Nightblood (The 100), Natblida Conclave (The 100), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Clexa is Endgame, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, but in the same universe, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qj4Nl5V

[thebargainingchip]

Blood Colors: Chapter 5

Pairing: Roan x Reader

Warnings: Violence, Implied Suicide

Previous Chapter

Chapter 1

You were just beginning to think how familiar the site of the king's quarters were becoming to you when you walked in. Except for this time Roan was there accompanied by Echo. Conspirador numero uno didn't stop with her whispers even as you stood there. " Yu beda don frag em bilaik. (You should have killed them both)" Roan gave her a look and she finally shut up. You kind of wished you had that power. She didn't care to apologise as she walked into you when she left, the doors slammed shut behind her.

You could see the anger bloom over Roan's features as he pushed himself up away from the map he had been leaning over and turned away from you. The silence lingered so long, you decided to remind him that you were still there:

"Do you-"

"That was stupid and reckless." Roan stated.

"And?" That made him turn back around with a glare.

"And that's exactly what you're not here to do."

"Then what the hell am I here to do? I don't recall there being any instructions or rules."

"Do I need to babysit you too?" He questioned.

"Are you blind? I'm not Clarke, I am not some born leader, in fact, I'm the total opposite. Maybe no one told you what you signed up for but I have a haywire moral compass. So I need to know what the hell do you want?" That shut him up, at least for two seconds as the crown ways heavy on his head, he sighs.

"How'd you do it?" The sudden change in subject and tone was surprising, to say the least. You lifted up your shirt revealing chain male underneath. "You just wear that around?"

"I was cold." A look of amusement flashed through his eyes. If anything Roan liked you, you concluded, who goes from scolding to a joke in 0.5 seconds flat. You also knew however that it would come second to his duties. "It was dark and I couldn't see, I could go on." He leaned against the table and folded his arms and an actual smirk on his face.

"Please do."

"Don't criticise me, it saved me and you in the end." You shot back.

"Oh and how exactly did it save me?" Roan frowned.

"Saved you from the wrath of Lexa and Clarke. Granted I'll have a few bruises but at least I saved your ungrateful ass."

"Is that a joke?"

"No."

"Prove your worth to Azgeda." You were frozen for a moment.

"That's what you want?"

"That's not what I want that's what we need, that's what your clan need. And although it was completely idiotic, you did prove some of it today." He gave you a pointed glare just to make sure that you knew he didn't approve of that particular method.

"And how do I do that?"

"I don't know. Bilaik st yu dula, kripa kom Skaikru. (That is your job, demon)." Roan answered, you nodded, you could do that.

You were already up when the knock sounded at the door and Oren burst in, just as you were tying your hair back.

"You should stop knocking, it's pointless if you're going to violet my privacy anyway." You deadpanned.

"Haihefa don nau teik in yu kom bants. (The King has forbid you to leave)"

"Of course he has." You got rid of the idea to train in the courtyard, casting your sword on the bed and unwrapping your hands. Halfway through you stopped and look at Oren again. "Are you waiting for a treat or?"

"The King also said I'm supposed to stay by your side."

"No." You continued unwrapping.

"But-"

"I don't care. Fat load of good you were yesterday."

"I couldn't-"

"Oren, I don't care. I can protect myself, always have and always will." Oren quieted with a contemplative look, with your relentless resolve he left, closing the doors behind you.

It was nearly afternoon when you had long since tired of staring out the window at the snow falling softly as the soldiers trained in the courtyard. There was a little commotion outside your door and you perked up. The King entered with an apologising Oren on his heels, just as you stood from the ground turning away from the big window and letting the fur blanket fall from your shoulders embracing the coldness that accompanied the two men into the room.

"You really are stubborn." He commented not entirely a joke or a criticism. "Council meeting, I would like you there." Roan said, you nodded.

So far you have discovered just how rude Azgeda has been, they barely knock, they greet new people with daggers and they stare. The tension was clear as you stepped into the room behind the King, bows turning into something more reluctant as they stood straight. When Roan sat everyone sat, you shifted your gaze over the faces of Roan's Councilmen and women from your position next to him. All of them, armed, not short of the physics or markings that Azgedan warriors possessed. You didn't exactly expect the council to consist of merchants and noble, Azgeda was a War Nation after all.

"This my guest. Y/n kom Skaikru. Bandrona gon em kru. (Ambassador for her people)" Nothing could resolve the tension that still lingered. Roan nodded to the man standing in the corner who stepped forward unrolling a piece of paper.

"In the previous meeting lead by Queen Nia's hand, Thoff kom Azgeda, the following problems were unresolved : The Eastern village, Stromclud and Luktri have sent in requests for food for the winter." Roan's gaze shifted over the faces of the people at the table. "How much do we have in our stores?"

"Our reserves are limited , haihefa, we might be able to feed the eastern village."

"Chomauda osir kodon? Skaikru fleim daun mous Luktri, emo beda kof. (Why should we share? Skaikru burned most of Luktri, they should pay)" One of the councilmen piped up glaring at you.

"You will speak English in front of our guest." The King demanded.

"Skaikru hon in nou spek duan kom ai. (Skaikru get no respect from me)"

"Luktri fleim daun kom Kane, em nou chich gon skaikru. (Luktri was burned down by Kane, he doesn't speak for Skaikru)." the silence that followed your words was enough to let you know that no one expected you knew the language.

The uproar began right after, feeling threatened the man stood as he raised his voice.

"Sit down, Councillor." He didn't obey.

"We can't keep trading an eye for an eye with Skaikru, it will not benefit us, especially now that we should be preoccupied with the real problem, to get through this winter." Another councillor said standing to meet the gaze of the bulky man who was glaring at you.

"Natrona (Traitor)." He spit on the ground beside him. The whole room burst into a screaming match.

You were still trying to get rid of the headache as you walked back to your room. "Are you even listening?" Roan asked.

"How can I listen when I'm deaf." The meeting was a tad unsuccessful, Roan had to dismiss the whole room -the loudest you ever heard Roan yell in your life-, to get rid of the chaos.

"This is how it always is, Azgeda doesn't do calm. Besides were sitting in a room full of war generals. Council meetings are rarely successful, but part of tradition, which is the only reason I don't just make the decisions myself, which is what my mother used to do anyway."

"Skaikru has enough." Roan stopped in his tracks and turned to you eyebrow raised.

"How do you know?"

"We raided mount weather not too long ago, before you're people blew it up. We had to freeze our crops for because our food supply was off the charts. The crops could feed hundreds for winter."

"And why would Skaikru give up resources earned from hard labour?" He questioned, eyebrow raised.

"Well, for one technically we did burn the Luktri village and if we want to get in Azgeda's good books then why not?"

"That's still not enough but it would help. Our only problem is that Azgeda won't accept anything from Skaikru."

"Are you talking about the villagers or the councillors?" You asked.

"We could host a tournament, the losing village among the three will be awarded weapons to hunt their food for the winter." Roan suggested.

"Tournament? Sounds violent, judging by what I've seen to far."

"It is the Azgeda way." Roan said firmly. "Ambassador." He greeted before he left.

Oren was somewhat like a lost puppy. He followed you to the mess hall where you ate your meals and back again to your room, he accompanied you to the courtyard as you trained assuring him that technically you weren't leaving the castle after all.

Roan was to be officially crowned tonight, his court only consisted of his most fearsome warriors and notable war figures. The mess hall tables were filled to the brim while you had been invited to the head table, sitting next to Echo who looked equally disgusted by the seating arrangements. The feast would be served as soon as the King gave a speech, and you had been dressed in Azgedan battle garments as your clan had a lack of traditional war clothing as Izabel had pointed out. The servant poured a serving of wine or mead or some form of a particularly sour liquor for all the people at the head table. Roan's speeches were always good speeches, a little trivial but nothing less than expected from a King, he raised his goblet an everyone in the room followed his movements. The king's tester stepped up and took the first sip handing the goblet back to Roan. "You should let me test yours." Oren whispered from behind. Okay, no, he was more like an irritating fly than a puppy. You ignored him as the King took his first sip and the hall echoed it. The music that followed the ordeal, was... something and somehow started up the chatter that rumbled through.

The whole affair wasn't as boring as it seemed, from your view upon the dais you could see the exact moment when fights started in the crowds which were your entertainment for the night. When you got bored you called the servant to fill your goblet once more, most of the table was empty anyway. Roan and his uncle at the other end of the room. You took a sip just as Oren commented just how stubborn you were. "Don't mistake stubbornness for stupidity, Oren." Echo added, just as you choked. You turned to look at Oren who's face became panic-stricken as soon as he saw you, even Echo had paused her eating to stare at you. Just when Oren was about to bolt for some form of help, you dropped the act.

"Your face gets all funny when you're worried." Oren was so angry, the tips of his ears turning as red as his beard as you turned back to your food.

"The boy who cried wolf." Echo interjected once more continuing with her own meal.

Oren didn't even escort you back to your room, simply disappeared some time.

The loud bang woke you up

Blinking rapidly in the bright lights you stood, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Walking out of your room, towards the group that had gathered in the hallway. Whoever had broken whatever, Raven was going to be pissed. Marcus came through the crowd of guards to stop you. They were standing in front of his open door.

"Y/n maybe you shouldn't go in." Marcus advised but you brushed him off to pause in the doorway.

The blood was everywhere.

And bits of your brother too.

The cold draft made you shiver and sit up straight from where you had been lying on the floor by the window. Glancing back, the doors to your room was slightly ajar. Immediately on high alert you stood quickly and glanced around the room. The fire had died and the candles had been blown out by the wind leaving the room bathed in dark shadows where anyone could hide. So you tried to listen as you strode over to the door and closed it turning again to see if you could spot anything. You shivered the silence relieving as you reached the desk to light a candle. There. Spinning around you dodged the dagger coming at you as it lands in the hardwood of the desk. The attacker pulls the weapon free as you take slow steps backwards. He steps into the moonlight but reveals only that his face is covered, before you could reach the bed where you sword lay, he jumps again, creating a distraction with his one hand which you dodge only to narrowly stop the knife from plunging into your stomach. The cut on your hands sting as you push back with a tight grip on the blade barely managing to throw the attacker off balance, he regains quickly coming at you once more. You finally spring into action and give a hard kick to the attacker's knees which give out underneath him. He swings the dagger up but you catch his arm quickly wanting to break his wrist but the attacker climbs to his feet in one swift move and knocks you right in the face.

You had forgotten how it felt to be punched, the taste of blood in your mouth the blinding pain that left you senseless for a moment or two after a good hit. When you roll over onto your stomach the attacker had already left the room.

"What happened to your face?" Roan asked, pointing to the split lip that had been irritating you all morning.

"Slipped and fell out of bed."

"You don't really strike me as the clumsy type." Roan said, obviously not believing the clear lie.

"Got tangled in the sheets when I got up." You shrugged.

"I called a council meeting, I'm going to tell them our plan, only I'm going to take credit for it."

"Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?"

"They won't accept anything you propose, not yet at least." Roan explained you nodded. "I need you to write a letter to Skaikru to ask about the food. I will make sure it reaches them, once we get correspondence we can pick a day."

Just as you are about to pull the doors open to head to the council room, Roan snatches both hands. The bandages over your palms are a clear indication that something wasn't quite right. Roan isn't really gentle about it even as you wince. His face shifts into a scowl. "Where's Oren?" You shrug. "And you didn't tell anyone that you were attacked by someone with a knife?" You shook you're head. "Did you have an idea of who it was or how he looked?"

"His face was covered, he got away." His scowl turned into pure irritation.

"You're staying here, I'm calling Oren."

"So I'm grounded?" Roan didn't answer as he slammed the door shut.

Great. More endless window staring.

Next Chapter

[kinetic-elaboration]

February 2: Thoughts on 4x01 Echoes

Mmmmkay, literally JUST finished watching 4x01. I’m very proud of myself because I completely avoided ALL spoilers and I’m not going to unblock tumblr until I finish this reaction post so I can write down my totally spontaneous and unadulterated thoughts.

My general reaction: I actually kind of liked it. I wouldn’t say I liked it as much as Seasons 1 and 2 and I wouldn’t say I’m optimistic about the season and frankly I still have a lot of complaints, most of which are so general I don’t think they’ll ever be resolved BUT I would undoubtedly say that 4x01 was better than 3x01 and I’m actually looking forward to 4x02; it looks like just the kind of plot I like: tense, self-contained, lots of delinquents.

(loooong reaction under the read more)

So some things I didn’t like first so I can get my negativity out of the way:

I never fully believed that either Jarod Joseph or Chelsey Reist were going to be regulars because I thought that people were reading a lot into kind of vague tweets but I wanted to believe it, especially with Jarod Joseph and honestly even though I don’t like Harper…they both deserve main status by now. I mean they’ve lasted this fucking long. I cannot believe Zack McGowan gets main status and Jarod and Chelsey don’t.

I don’t give a fuck about the Grounders. I don’t! I don’t care!! And I will never care. So all this Polis shit, Grounder politics, Echo yammering on, blah blah blah. I can’t follow it and I don’t even want to follow it. In my incredibly subjective opinion, it really weighs the show down.

Roan constantly sounds like he’s having a * Tina Fey voice * talking like this contest. I have no idea what his real voice sounds like but if this is at all a put on accent he needs to tone it down for realsies I cannot take him seriously.

Monty/Harper. Get it away get it away. (I’m not going to go into why I hate them but rest assured every reaction I write this entire season will have some variation of this point, if the episode in question features them as a couple at all. Having a canon NoTP is such a fannish burden so I’m going to whine about it at top volume all the time.)

NO MILLER. A TRAVESTY.

This isn’t entirely the show’s fault but I roll my eyes every time I hear L*xa’s name, like some kind of Pavlovian dog, so obviously I did a lot of eye rolling and now my eyes kind of hurt. In particular, Clarke’s overwrought sadness about her was just so… I’m done, I’m tired of it, I don’t care. I know I’m not being fair, because in the timeline of the show obviously L’s death is very close. But, first off, I don’t think Clarke loved her at all—I think she thinks she did but she did not, and I don’t think that line would even have been included if it weren’t for RL events. Second, and relatedly, I think that little scene with Abby and the Dramatic Single Tear TM when she hands over the chip were so clearly about appeasing fans and doing penance for daring to kill a lesbian that they took me out of the show. I wasn’t watching Clarke in Polis, I was watching Eliza Taylor acting on a set. I hope that’s the end of that, and we never have to deal with that shit again.

I didn’t like Kane’s line to Bellamy about eventually deserving to survive. I know why it’s in there, both in an in-universe and in a line-to-the-fans way, but frankly my initial thought is: all human beings deserve survival. It’s not like only good people should be allowed to live a radiation free life lol. And second, can we just leave him the fuck alone already? I’m done with the Bellamy dogpile. Let’s hope that shit’s done too.

Speaking of lines I didn’t like, Bellamy calling Clarke Princess is basically the definition of Do Not Want. It’s the sort of thing that, small as it is, makes me think that the writers don’t know their own creation and it makes me lose faith in them again. That name was an insult—it was always a fucking insult, it’s not cute, it’s not a pet name, and it has no place in the Bellarke relationship anymore. Such an unnecessary false note. (I probably seem/am disproportionately mad about it…but I hate it.)

I could have done without that last scene. It just looked so….fake. Again it just took me out of the show completely. Was it supposed to show us how dire everything is? I got that message the last 20 times lol.

The stuff I did like:

BELLAMY. There wasn’t enough of him, but he was A FUCKING STAR in the scenes he did get, especially the negotiation scene. Like I could list every line I liked and every moment I liked and that would probably be more proportional to the degree I liked them but it’s probably faster and more efficient to say that I loved it all. I loved that he and Clarke acted like (mostly) equal co-leaders. I liked that they looked to each other all the time, and had all of these silent eye-communication moments. I liked the scene with him and Kane and Indra before the meeting with Echo, I loved that Echo views him as the only Sky Person she’ll talk to, and I loved…basically all of it but I guess what I’m trying to say is I loved both how he handled the negotiation and that HE was the one doing it.

Indra was killing it in this ep too. I loved the hug with Kane of course. I loved her and Murphy in the pre-negotiation scene (“I never agreed to [guns].” / “That’s because you’re not stupid.”) (She and Murphy need their own show like I would watch it.) I like how she’s basically chilling with the Sky People now—like the little scene in the temple had such a cool collection of characters, I was digging it. (Except for Octavia…who I really don’t know what to make of this season yet so.)

Speaking of Murphy…. Okay, I wasn’t impressed by Murphy/Emori in Season 3 but I did like their scenes in this episode. Unfortunately, I was really looking forward to them joining up with the Sky People in Arkadia; I want to see another Grounder trying to find a place in Arkadia (since Lincoln was brutally murdered and all) and I want to see Murphy re-integrate himself because tbh he really is at his best when he has people to play off of. People who aren’t Emori. So I was a little bummed when they ran off into the night together because I really don’t care to watch the two of them in a vacuum and also…we already saw that? But anyway I did like their scenes in this ep so they’re in the positive column. I also like that we finally got an explanation as to why Emori took the chip.

I’ve had sort of mixed feelings about Jaha because I’m not sure whether or not I can follow his story line/character progression or not but I will say: I am 100% Team Jaha as of right now. I do think that, whatever he was on the Ark or in S1, his late S1/early S2 transformation was genuine, and he really is trying to be a good person who helps people. I hope he finds the salvation and the purpose he’s been looking for. And his role in the little ploy with Octavia and the shroud was great.

That whole sequence was probably the strongest in the episode. I think one of The 100’s greatest weaknesses at this point is the complexity of its various allegiances and all the old bad blood that’s been spilled everywhere. I haven’t seen S3 since it aired and so even as a pretty big fan I still find some stuff hard to follow—it’s hard to remember who betrayed who when and all this shit and even though some Obvious Exposition is peppered in to help us along, it’s not enough for me sometimes. But this spider web of interconnected relationships, both good and bad, is also an asset of the show and I thought that middle sequence, from the “we surrender” line to Roan waking up, really played all of that up in a good way. It brought a lot of characters and a lot of history together in a way that generally worked very well. I liked the shroud ploy (though omg the Azgeda warriors are dumb AF—how could Octavia just get up and walk around and no one noticed her? Like they’re all looking outward and no one’s looking at the big ol’ empty middle of the room? And then she, a child who lived sixteen very unhealthy years under the floor and has been on Earth probably less than a year with only a handful of months of warrior training if that is able to take out a whole room of the most fearsome warriors in the post-apocalypse? It defies belief I’m sorry). I liked the Griffins operating together. I loved the tension. (Lessened somewhat by knowing Roan would live, what with him being a main and all.) Loved the whole goshdarn thing.

Most of the Arkadia stuff was pretty eh but only in that there wasn’t much of it, and what there was, we’d seen before in promotional clips and stuff (though I will say: they did better with the promotional stuff this year; I think last year they gave away some of their surprises in a way that made the scenes ring very false on a first viewing imo). But obviously I loved my boy Jasper. I would have found his almost-suicide very hard to watch if I hadn’t known it was coming but as it was, I could be more detached about it. I wish we’d seen more of his room but what we did see was interesting (I have an obsession with the Ark/Arkadia sets okay): his art—not just Maya’s favorite painting but another one near the door; his goggles with the plastic over the eyes knocked out—like him, just a shell of their former selves; all his random tools on his desk like why does he have those?; his notebooks. And, oh, that he left a suicide note to Monty. And even just their small interaction at the door was great.

Also… while in a way I find it an odd beat for him to go from his last scene with Monty in 3x16 to almost killing himself in 4x01, mere hours later in the canon timeline… I believe it, and I’m glad that my previous fears, that the show would just forget what he’d gone through and do a Jasper re-set in the new season, can be put to rest. I liked and believed in his transition from really-ready-to-die, to well-the-world’s-gonna-kill-me-and-make-it-easy-might-as-well-enjoy-Earth.

But the best Arkadia scene was the one between Jasper and Raven. First of all because I FUCKING CALLED IT that Raven shouldn’t have the sort of coding/computer abilities that she has. I hypothesized that she might have improved her skills at some point during the S2-S3 hiatus because her disability lessened her ability to do legwork, but I also mentioned that it could have been ALIE which still means I WAS RIGHT BOOM. (I just like being right a lot okay.) Also the “upgrade” talk reminded me of Dollhouse. Which was exciting but also made me all bitter and mad because Dollhouse did the idea of artificial upgrades to your brain so much better. Made me feel inspired for my Dollhouse AU though so there’s that.

I don’t ship Jasper/Raven but I do friend-ship them and I hope they bond over having been ALIE-d.

Also speaking of being AlIE-d, I don’t think Harper forgives Jasper for what his chipped self did. And she probably shouldn’t honestly because my theory is still that ALIE pulled from the real feelings and thoughts of chipped people and maybe someday I’ll write a full explanation of why I think that—which isn’t to say that Jasper wants to hurt Harper but just to say that ‘pleading the chip’ isn’t as straightforward as all that. Still, even though it makes sense narratively, because I will pick Jasper over pretty much everyone this is sorta another reason to unfairly dislike Harper. If there is anything even remotely like a Monty having to choose scenario I will be very perturbed though.  (This isn’t something I especially liked or disliked, the thought just occurred to me while I was talking about Arkadia stuff.)

It’s pretty early to say anything about her at all but Unnamed Possible Priestess (Kenza??) is looking so promising. First, we know from the trailer she’s gorgeous and I’m always here for that. Second and to be less shallow for a second, Indra seems to know her, maybe, so that could be cool. And third, while I have yet to be impressed by Grounder religion, I am very curious to see if she’s going to be bringing in a different aspect to their spirituality. I don’t know her but I already want to see her go head to head with Roan.

I had a bit of a discussion/ramble with my mom yesterday when she was telling me a bit about the episode in a vague spoiler-free way and I was trying to explain when I like Clarke (when she’s a co-leader with a reasonably sized head, when she’s cunning and imaginative like in early S2) (early S2 Clarke is my favorite Clarke fyi) and when I don’t like her (when she’s arrogant, when she thinks she can do everything herself, when she doesn’t listen to others—basically season 2B Clarke and Clarke in parts of S3), and she said I thought I would like her in this ep. I was on the fence. I liked her with Bellamy. And she had moments that objectively I probably should have liked but I’ve just been so tired of her shit for so long it’s hard for me not to feel Tired Of Her in general. But… I guess I’ll say I think Clarke looks promising.

I kind of loved how at the end of the episode when Kabby were saying goodbye to their children and story-line heirs Bellarke, Abby says “Okay let’s do this” or some such, and then the first thing she does is hug Clarke. I know she means “okay, let’s accomplish the plan, which means separating, so I gotta say goodbye to my daughter first” but it looked a little like the “this” was hugging. Which is sort of sweet.

…Um wow I’ve written a lot and I can’t think of anything so I guess I’m done FOR NOW.

Looking forward to lots of delinquents, some hopefully cool tense scenes, more Miller and Bryan, and Clarke in a better outfit next time.

[vmplvr1977]

An older fic of mine that got a fresh coat of paint today, after re-reading it. I can't believe I wrote it all on my phone 🥺. Thankfully, I did some edits, and plan to do the same for Parts Two and Three. Maybe I'll even update it while I'm at it. 😉

A Tale of Two Queens

Following her parents' murder, Princess Clarke becomes a slave to the man who stole her father's throne. King Alexander is a cruel man who takes enjoyment in making the blonde suffer.

Clarke quickly learns to survive in the fighting pits, becoming a fearsome warrior at a young age. Her only comfort is Lexa, King Alexander's daughter, who visits her each night in her cage. Realizing his daughter's bond puts him at risk, Alexander sends Clarke to Azgeda to train as a Royal Assassin.

Read it here.