the air in your chambers was still, thick with the weight of the evening’s bloodshed. you sat by the fire, staring into the flickering flames, replaying the events from earlier in the day—lexa’s duel with roan, the flash of swords, and then the shocking death of queen nia. The world of the Grounders had its own brutal logic, and yet, you couldn’t shake the image of lexa’s face after she’d killed Nia—calm, but with a shadow that haunted her gaze.

a soft knock on the door broke the silence. your heart jumped slightly, but you knew who it would be. lexa didn’t wait for a response before entering. She stepped into the room, her presence normally fierce vnd commanding, but tonight, she seemed different. Vulnerable. She was wearing a simple nightgown, a stark contrast to her usual war armor. Her dark hair was loose, falling around her face, and her lip was split, a faint trickle of dried blood staining her chin. the commander looked as composed as ever, a emotionless expression on her face but you could see the slight tightness in her posture, the stiffness in her injured hand, still wrapped in a blood-stained cloth.

you took a step closer, your eyes locking onto lexa’s wounded hand.

“sit down, let me see it.”

lexa hesitated before sitting down on clarkes plush bench, pride clearly warring with the trust she had in you. But after a moment, she relented, extending her injured hand towards you.

you gently unwrapped the cloth, revealing the deep gash across lexa’s palm. the wound was angry and red, dried blood crusted around the edges. your heart clenched at the sight.

“This needs to be cleaned properly,”

you said, your voice soft but insistent.

„It could get infected if we don’t take care of it.”

with careful hands, you gathered the supplies you needed—clean water, cloths, and medicinal herbs you had learned to use from your mom, abby. As you worked, gently cleaning the wound, Lexa remained silent, watching your every move with quiet intensity.

“You’ve done this before,”

lexa said