The fire crackled, its warmth barely touching the cold tension between you. You sat near the flames, wrists still raw from captivity, eyes locked onto Lexa with a sharp, unwavering stare. The storm outside had passed, but the one inside this ruined shelter had only just begun.

“So, how long did you debate whether I was worth it?”

Your voice cut through the silence like a blade.

Lexa stood near the entrance, posture rigid, arms crossed over her chest.

“This wasn’t about worth. It was about balance.”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Balance? You mean politics. You actually considered leaving me there.”

“I considered what saving you would cost.”

“And?”

Lexa’s expression didn’t waver.

“War.”

You shook your head, standing abruptly.

“So now it’s my fault?”

“No. But the decision had consequences.”

Lexa took a step forward, her voice steady but edged with something dangerous.

“I had to choose between you and the coalition.”

“You should’ve chosen faster.”

You were in her space now, close enough to see the flicker of something—anger, frustration, regret—flash across Lexa’s eyes.

Lexa’s jaw tightened.

“And what if I had? What if saving you meant thousands dead? Would you still demand I put you first?”

“I didn’t ask you to put me first, Lexa.”

Your voice was low, but the weight behind it was crushing.

“I asked you not to hesitate.”

Lexa exhaled sharply. “I didn’t hesitate. I calculated.”

“Same thing.”

The fire popped, sending embers into the dark. Your breathing was heavy, your exhaustion mixing with something deeper—something raw. Lexa, as always, was unreadable, but her fingers twitched near the hilt of her blade.

“If I had lost the coalition, no one would be safe,”

Lexa said finally.

“Not Skaikru. Not my people. Not you.”

“And if I had died?”

Lexa’s eyes darkened. When she spoke, her voice was quieter, but there was an edge to it, sharp as steel.

“Then I would have avenged you.”