The Blood of Our People (Jus Auda Oso Kru)

Part One - The Gifts of Polis

Summary: What if Lexa and Clarke had gotten to know each other better when Clarke was brought to Polis by Roan?

Lexa lives au.

Disclaimer: I am not the owner of this show or the characters, none of this is mine. I am just one of those who wish Lexa had survived.

Author's Note: I'm back from hiatus and now in a new fandom? Hopefully I have improved in my writing in the last few years. The NSFW version will be posted on Archive of Our Own under the same account name. Part one of my newest series of fanfictions.

Prologue:

Once again it was the squabbles that filled her days, the incessant bickering like goufa. Lexa sighed and frowned, the lines that came with it encumbering her face once again. She inhaled slowly, attempting to calm down her fraying nerves.
"Commander, the Wanheda is dangerous now that we've betrayed her!" Lexa opened her eyes once again to Titus' headache inducing shouts. His face was twisted into a scowl as usual, the smoothness of his bald head illuminated hauntingly by the candles that lit the room. It was late, the darkness casting nighttime shadows within the room. His beady eyes spoke volumes of disapproval.

Indra had brought up the topic as a report during their meeting with the ambassadors of the eleven other tribes. Her face per usual was as stoney as a boulder, head held high, betraying nothing of her thoughts on this as she stood next to Lexa in her throne. Lexa breathed out slowly through her nose and then back in. She closed her eyes as if that would help shut out the tension in the room, the impending wars and dangers upon her people.

How in skafa did it come to this? Lexa couldn't even remember when it had happened. Was it when she had blown into her tent like a whirlwind storm, demanding an alliance that she was in no place to negotiate? Or perhaps…

"I might be a hypocrite, Lexa but you're a liar."

The words burned, the words that Lexa didn't wish to hear, and had tried to cast out of her brain and heart so she could make the decisions a commander would; a commander who did what was best for her people and led all twelve clans. Her bright blue eyes burned like the coldest ice. Ice which pierced Lexa's heart again and again, as Clarke stepped forward, forcing Lexa to step back at her advance.

With each step another wave of guilt and pain, another casualty. Gustus. Costia.

Why was she stepping backward? She shouldn't. She's the commander, the highest of everyone in this nation. Skafa, she should've wrapped her hands around this girl's neck and wrung her to death for mentioning Costia to attack her whilst she had shared the experience to make Clarke feel better. Yet, Lexa continued to step backward under the barrage, heart hammering at each word, each accusation that was flung at her.

Lexa steeled her heart and expression, forcing her breath to even out as much as possible. She tried to pull her eyes from their captivated stance on the blue ones in front her but couldn't. Finally she forced a scowl and growled as menacingly as she possibly could, "Get. Out."

As if that wasn't enough for the world to put her through, Clarke had to get in the last word. She felt scorned as Clarke opened her wounds on TonDC, her regrets, the guilt that riddled her nights and days. Lexa was furious, livid even. She was ridiculed by the girl who was her enemy a week ago, had her good will used against her. Clarke didn't even respect her or listen to her as a commander. The feeling that prevailed however, was the flutters in her heart.

Lexa opened her eyes and looked up. "Bring me Roan of Azgeda. Now," she demanded. Her voice wasn't raised, not at all in volume, but her tone made it clear this was an order.

Translations of Prologue:
Goufa - child

Skafa - hell