The camp was quiet, the kind of silence that only came after devastation. You stood at the edge of the clearing, your hands trembling as you stared into the smoldering remnants of what had once been a peaceful settlement. The acrid scent of burned wood and blood lingered in the air, and your eyes stung—not from the smoke, but from unshed tears.

Your mother, Abby, was gone.

You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

„Clarke,”

Lexa said, her voice calm but tinged with unease.

You spun around, your blue eyes blazing with fury.

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Lexa stopped a few paces away, her hands loosely at her sides, her face a mask of controlled emotion.

“I came to offer my condolences—”

„Condolences?”

Your voice cracked, raw with anger.

“You think that’s what I need right now? You think your empty words can undo what happened?”

Lexa’s jaw tightened.

“I didn’t come to undo anything. I came because I owe you an explanation.”

You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp and cutting.

“An explanation? Fine, Lexa. Explain to me why your ‘brilliant’ strategy got my mother killed. Explain to me why you thought it was a good idea to send your warriors into a settlement full of innocent people!”

“It was never supposed to happen that way,”

Lexa said firmly, though there was a flicker of pain in her voice.

“The orders were clear. They were to target the enemy camp nearby. Not—”

“Not the people trying to rebuild their lives?”

You interrupted, stepping closer.

“Well, they didn’t seem to care about your orders, did they? Your people, your strategy, your war—none of it values life!”

Lexa’s eyes darkened.

“Every decision I make, I make for the survival of my people. Do you think I wanted this? That I don’t grieve for the lives lost?”

You shook your head, your voice rising.

“Don’t you dare compare your grief to mine. My mother is dead, Lexa! Because of you!“