The fire crackled softly in the center of the tent, casting flickering shadows on the canvas walls. Outside, the night air was filled with the hum of preparation—warriors sharpening blades, leaders murmuring strategies, and the ever-present sense of impending conflict. Inside the tent, it was a moment of calm before the storm.

Lexa stood with her back to Clarke, her gaze fixed on the map spread across the table. She traced her finger along the path that would lead her warriors into battle. Her posture was as rigid as the weight of her responsibilities, but Clarke knew better than to think it was simply strategy that had her so tense.

“You don’t have to bear this alone, you know,”

Clarke said softly, standing a few steps behind her.

Lexa didn’t turn, her voice a controlled whisper.

“As Heda, I am always alone.”

Clarke stepped forward, feeling the heaviness of the words between them.

“I know what that feels like. But you have people who care about you, Lexa. I care about you.”

There was a pause, and for a moment, Clarke thought Lexa might not respond. But then, with a quiet sigh, Lexa turned, her green eyes locking onto Clarke’s.

“Caring about people makes you weak, Clarke. You, of all people, should understand that by now.”

Clarke’s jaw tightened, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“I used to believe that. But every time we push people away, every time we build walls around ourselves, we lose a part of what makes us… human.”

Lexa’s expression softened, just for a heartbeat.

“Humanity is a luxury we can’t afford.”

Clarke stepped closer, the tension between them electric.

“You’re wrong, Lexa. Humanity is the reason we fight. If we lose that, what’s the point of any of this?”

For a long moment, Lexa studied her, the flickering firelight dancing in her eyes.

“Your heart is too soft,”

she said, though her tone lacked its usual edge

"one day, it will you get killed.“

clarke didn’t flinch.

„maybe. but I’d rather die with my heart intact than live without it.“