The gates of Polis stood tall, their iron bars a harsh reminder of the divide that could never truly be bridged. The sun was setting, casting long, golden shadows across the square where you waited, your heart heavy with every step you took toward the gate.

Lexa stood in front of the guards, her hands clasped behind her back, her armor gleaming in the fading light. Her face was stoic, but her eyes betrayed the storm within—a mixture of anger, regret, and something deeper that you couldn’t name.

The council had made their decision. You and Skaikru were to leave Polis. The alliance, fragile as it was, had fractured under the weight of distrust and bloodshed. The Grounders had turned on Lexa, calling her weak for siding with Skaikru, accusing her of putting her people in danger. Though Lexa had fought with everything she had to defend your place in the coalition, the council had overruled her. Banishment was their decree—You and your people had to go.

You stopped a few steps away, your throat tight.

“So this is it?”

Lexa turned to you, her expression unyielding.

“I fought for you, Clarke. I fought for your people. But they would not listen.”

“They wouldn’t listen because they’re afraid of change,”

You shot back, your voice laced with frustration.

“Afraid of peace. And now we’re the price of their fear.”

Lexa’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing. The silence between you was deafening, filled with everything you couldn’t say in the presence of guards and prying eyes.

“You don’t have to do this,”

You said, stepping closer.

“You’re their Commander. If you gave the order—”

“They would defy me,”

Lexa interrupted, her voice sharp but low.

“If I break their trust now, the coalition will fall apart. More blood will be spilled. I cannot let that happen. It is the only way to protect you.”

“That’s not your choice to make,”

You snapped, your voice trembling.

“I didn’t ask for your protection, Lexa. I asked for your trust. For your partnership.”

“You have both,”

Lexa said,