the night was deep, the stars barely visible through the clouds. They stood side by side at the edge of the trees, Mount Weather looming before them like a dark monolith. Torches lit the entrance, casting a faint, flickering glow, and there was a stillness in the air — a tension so thick it felt like the whole world was holding its breath.

lexa‘s gaze shifted to you, her expression unreadable, though something softened in her eyes as she asked,

“What will you do when it’s over?”

you continued to stare at the massive metal door in front of you, eyes fixed as if the weight of the world rested on that one spot. They didn’t look at her when they finally answered, voice quiet but heavy.

“I have no idea…”

lexa‘s gaze lingered, a subtle sadness in her hardened expression. She was a leader, a warrior — a woman who made decisions swiftly and ruthlessly. And yet, standing beside you, she found herself reaching for something she rarely indulged in: curiosity about another’s future, one she might actually care about.

“Well,”

lexa continued, her voice softened but still carrying that unmistakable coldness,

“what do you want?”

you sighed and shrugged, your head tilting slightly as if the question itself was a burden you hadn’t thought to carry.

“Nothing. My people back. I can’t think past today.”

for a moment, lexa looked away, her gaze distant. Then, she nodded, as if coming to a quiet decision. She spoke again, her voice thoughtful, almost wistful.

“You should come with me to the capital,”

she offered.

“Polis will change the way you think about us.”

you finally looked at her, eyebrows knitting together with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“The way I think about you?”

lexa turned to face you fully, her sharp eyes softened by something unspoken.

“You see us as savages, as threats. But Polis… it’s more than battles and bloodshed. There’s life there, tradition. You’ll see things you can’t imagine, things worth fighting for. Not just surviving.”

She suddenly stopped,