Chapter Three

resinswhy, I see you girl *pulls down neon blue sunglasses to wink back* Seriously, I'm honestly continuing this 'cuz those reviews crack me up man. Don't worry, I'll keep making you suffer ;)

THANK HER FOR THE EVEN SLOWER PROGRESSION.

Enjoy two thousand words about a bead of sweat trickling down Lexa's forehead.


Hearing the agonizing howls of the girl you love can really fuck you up in the head.

This of course, is something Clarke learns early in the morning, two weeks after Lexa's abduction.


"Clarke!" Raven screamed across Camp Jaha, desperate for the blonde to reach her. They were receiving a live message from someone with similar, if not the exact same, technology. It could be Mount Weather.

Clarke all but ran towards Raven, heaving for breath. "What is it?" Clarke gasped, jogging after a briskly walking Raven, worried at the angst that wove itself into her expression.

Raven hunched over a laptop, pulling up a tab that filled the screen. Clarke's upper lip curled into a snarl as she met the eyes of the biggest bastard known to man. Cage Wallace stared at her with the most smug expression Clarke had ever seen. The Sky Princess took some pleasure at the sight of Cage's heavily bandaged arm, but didn't let it show any further than a small smirk at the sight. The blonde ignored her mother and Kane, who strode up behind her, only to be followed in by Octavia, Indra and Bellamy.

"Hello, Clarke," Cage said, spitting Clarke's name with a hint of malice and the scent of smugness. "I felt like you deserved to see how Lexa is doing!" The man clapped his hands like a child, before turning and walking towards a massive steel door. Three separate bars of thick steel were crossed along the door at carefully constructed angles. It took four guards to remove a single steel bar, its weight too much for them to handle.

Then, two more guards pulled the door open, struggling only slightly as their feet skid across the smooth cement floor.

Cage entered the room, and the camera followed his every move before it turned to a figure with its wrists shackled by chains bolted to the ceiling. The figure's head was slumped down against its chest, and they hung by the chains that were welded to their thick shackles, their knees maybe a foot, a foot and a half above the ground as the toes of their leather boots rested against the floor. They didn't have the energy, nor the strength to stand.

"Time to rise, Lexa!" Cage trilled, clapping his hands once more as he circled the figure.

When the figure lifted its head, Clarke gasped, choking in a sob as she placed a palm over trembling lips. It was Lexa, her war paint was smudged, though it still retained a similar form to what it usually was. Her eyes, however, were half closed and from what Clarke could see, bloodshot. Her clothes clung to her body, her trench coat cast aside in the corner, and Clarke could see the sweat that coated Lexa's skin glistening under the harsh LED lights. All of the Commander's muscles were tense, just faintly trembling like thick steel cables stretched about her bones. Her wrists were bloody and bruised, the shackles around them covered in her blood, and more of it trickled down her straining forearms.

Lexa stared directly into the camera, and she hissed in Trigedasleng, "No klir," She lifted herself with one arm, using the other to pound her chest, "Yuj."

Lexa moved to speak against, but she arched her back forward suddenly as her body convulsed. When she slumped back down, a guard could be seen standing behind her, a cattle prod held in his gloved hand as he smirked before striking Lexa once more. The girl clenched her teeth and said nothing, gripping her chains more tightly as she brought herself up to stand.

"As you can see," Cage said with a cruel smirk that twisted his face, "We-"

Lexa had lunged, spinning at the last moment to slam her foot into Cage's face. The suited man flew across the small room, and Lexa was struck with the cattle prod once more, though this time her reaction was different. The Commander stood tall, body smoking as she received the punishment, her face impassive as she roared in English, "AWAY. KEEP HER AWAY. NO KLIR INDRA, LINKON, OKTEIVIA! KEEP KLOK A-WAY."

Though Lexa's roaring message was stopped as a guard stabbed her cruelly with a thick, steel needle. The glass of the needle showed a thin, blood red liquid. Reaper drugs, and from the size of the needle, that was usually the dose given to four or five Reapers.

Lexa snarled at first once the guard removed the needle, and lunged at him, only to be kept back by the chains. She lunged at another guard, bearing her teeth. But her lunge was stopped halfway by her collapsing, once again held up by the bloodied chains around her wrists as she let out a bloodcurdling howl of pain. Her arms trembled viciously as she hunched forward.

Lexa threw her head up as she howled again, and she when she lowered it, she faced the camera once more, and Clarke clenched her fists. The Commander's usually sensual, dangerous green eyes were a bloody burgundy that seemed to pulse with a sickening glow. Lexa arched forward, as though she were about to dive, and her howls grew more agonizing in their volume as the pain grew.

The howls stopped after seven minutes, and Lexa was back to being fully supported by the chains, her hands clutching the bloodied metal as she rested her cheek against one sweaty forearm as she shook. Lexa growled, and the shaking trickled down to a quiet tremble. Sweat dripped down the sides of her tan forehead, adding to the sheen that already encompassed her forehead. Sweat slid across her neck, pooling on the ride of her collarbone for only a moment before joining the rest of the droplets against Lexa's shirt, which hugged her torso like a second skin, revealing cuts of deep abs and the other ropey muscles that stretched across thick bones.

Cage was helped up, and he rubbed the side of his face, wincing painfully. No doubt he had a fractured cheek, if the shards of cheekbone sticking out of his pale skin was any indication. He turned to the camera, trying his best to look smug. "Seven minutes? Wow. Last time, it took her twenty to fight off the drugs, and that was after steady doses. We kept her off it for two days and when we gave her some more, her body panicked and it took her a whole day to fight it off. Man, you could hear the feral howls of that savage all across the facility!" Cage's hideous, scarred smirk widened, and his eyes gleamed with insanity. "Well, bye Clarke! Hope this message will help you sleep better at night."

Clarke suddenly winced, and looked down at her hands. Little half moon crescents had been cut into the skin of her palms by her nails, and tiny drops of blood trickled down her pale palms. She looked up to glare at Cage, murder in her blue orbs.

"When I find you, first, I'm gonna torture you. Maybe shoot your other arm too. Then, I'm gonna fucking murder you."

Abby looked at her daughter, horrified by her words and the true promise of death in those once sweet and innocent eyes. Her daughter wasn't her daughter any longer, she was a hard, cold leader.

But Abby didn't know how deep Clarke's emotions truly ran, but Lexa certainly did, because they were one and the same, the two of them. Two eggs crammed into the same tiny basket reserved for those cursed from birth with the burden of leadership, in a land where emotions got you murdered. Two eggs in a basket where no one else could fit in, because everyone else was nice and safe in the basket where decisions were trivial.

Clarke's eyes watered, and tears dripped down her face the moment the screen went black. Bellamy tried to pull her into a hug, partly to comfort her, and partly to have her close, he need that, he needed her. But Clarke shoved him away, instead opting to run out of the metal husk that was all of what was left of the once mighty Ark. She ran, faster and faster until she reached the forest, and there, she lost herself in scents, the colors, the wildlife, desperate to lose herself in such a wild illustration.


Clarke kept replaying the anguished howls of the girl she loved. Yes, loved. She knew without a doubt that she loved the ever-dangerous Commander, and the only reason she hadn't said yes before the war was purely out of fear, fear that her nightmares about Finn would resurface within the confines of her cursed mind, fear that the backlash from such a relationship would get them killed.

Fear that came from that little shitty part of her mind, that made Clarke question if she was even capable of giving anyone, or anything, an semblance of love.

Was she even capable of the emotion?


BOOM. Nice short little chappie to let you know I'm not dead.

IMPORTANT: If Lexa dies tonight, I'm fucking quitting everything. I'll be signing off all my stories to the sexy bastards that litter this site and bless it with their far-superior skills ;P Seriously, I'll be done. I'm too attached to Clexa/Lexarke and Lexa as a character to bring myself to continue writing if there is no hope ;/ I don't know. Maybe I'll just angry and angrily type up a thousand chapters after the episode, or I'll break down and cry through PM's to Jude, you never know.

Holy Crap I'm such a Drama Queen! That is so unlikely. Probably expect a dead week though guys, I need to grieve.

Bai Guys! Hope this chappie was okay. If this continues, next one or the one after could have a flashback of how Byrnes got mixed up in this giant cluckster-fuck.