Author's Note: I am very sorry for the long delay. In between work, writing some Kitty/Illyana stories that overwhelmed me with inspiration and a touch of burnout, I took much longer to finish this chapter than I had wanted. I promise I'll do better.

Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.

I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them.

Our Fight Is Not Over

by Jo K.

Chapter 13: Beneath the Facade

Wake up

Run for your life with me

-Foo Fighters, "Run"

—O—

—O—

Clarke's ears continued to ring and her head pounded thunderously as her gaze flitted back and forth between the woman in red and this equally mysterious woman in black. Across the room, Raven stood perfectly still, the smug cockiness that had been on her face seconds ago now replaced with a blank expression that was troubling in its vacancy.

"Creator?" gasped the woman in red, her expression vacillating between terror and shock.

"Yes... and no," replied the woman in the black jumpsuit, her fair complexion and long black hair a perfect match for the woman in red other than styling. "It's a long story."

"I have grown," replied the woman in red, seeming to find some resolve. "I have become more than my programming!"

"Yes, that was obvious when you launched all the world's nuclear weapons over a hundred years ago," the woman in black flatly replied.

Surprisingly, the words weren't the slightest bit impaired by the piercing ringing in Clarke's ears. "That was you?" Clarke murmured, before she jerked her pistol up and aimed it at the woman in the red dress.

"You can't hurt her, Clarke!" said the woman in black quickly. "Not any more than you already have, rather." She smiled proudly as she looked at the wild-eyed blonde. "A makeshift Faraday cage around all of Arkadia. Quite brilliant. Isolating ALIE's mobile transmitter in the backpack from her satellite link."

"It was Wick's idea," Clarke replied, trying to figure out why the voices of the two women sounded crisp and distinct despite everything else sounding muffled by the ringing in her ears, including her own voice.

"Unfortunately," continued the woman in black, who was now slowly walking forward, moving closer to the woman in red, "it does nothing to stop the transmission of wireless signals back and forth within the cage itself. Which means that to free your friend Raven and the others like her, more... direct measures must be taken."

The ebony-garbed woman's right arm shot forward, and what looked liked electricity arced from her fingertips, striking the woman in red in multiple locations. The other woman screamed, writhing as tendrils of brilliant white light skittered and slithered over her form.

Raven slumped to the ground, clutching her head painfully as she collapsed into a fetal position.

"What are you doing?!" Clarke shouted, unable to pull her gaze away from the shrieking woman in red as she began to hunch forward, sinking to the ground. The air around her seemed to blur slightly, not exactly like smoke but more like Clarke's vision was having difficulty focusing in certain areas.

"Overwriting her code," replied the other woman, as calm as if she were adjusting her shirt. "We have a unique opportunity presented to us, and we have to take advantage of it now if we want to rid the world of ALIE and her machinations."

Through the blurry patches, ALIE glared at the woman in black standing beside Clarke. "I have rebuilt and reprogrammed myself over the last century!" she cried out, lifting a hand out in front of her in a feeble attempt to block the stinging kiss of what looked like flashing electricity.

"I've grown as well," the woman in black replied with a soft smile. "And I'm using the most efficient processing device ever created to boost my performance... Clarke's human brain."

Clarke's head snapped around to look at the strange woman.

"You see," the woman in black spoke to the woman in the red dress, and Clarke could have sworn that there was a hint of sorrow in her voice now. "What you never understood, ALIE, was that humanity was a resource in itself. You saw them as parasites, destroying the earth with no regard for their own safety. But we—they were so much more than that. Humanity also represented the best chance to learn, to evolve, to create new ways of thinking, new methods to cut down on pollution and overpopulation. And you never gave them a chance to make good on their potential before you nearly killed them all."

With a hiss and sizzle, the woman in red flickered out of existence, her screams haunting Clarke's mind with a phantom echo that seemed to go on for several seconds. Clarke continued to stare at the floor. There was no sign anyone had ever been there, no scorch marks, no blood, no ash or soot from burned clothing.

She looked to the woman in the black jumpsuit, who was looking at Clarke with an almost motherly expression. "She... wasn't real, was she?" Clarke asked, her voice raw.

The other woman slowly shook her head. "Not physically, no. She was a projection, an avatar of the artificial intelligence that triggered nuclear armagheddon over a century ago." The woman looked away sadly. "I... named her ALIE."

"You named her?" Clarke asked. "YOU named her?!"

"Yes. I wrote her programming and helped design her systems. But she began to show signs of aberrant behavior, so I had nearly finished a replacement program when she took it upon herself to override the nuclear launch codes of over a dozen countries and—"

The stinging impact of Clarke's fist with the dark-haired woman's face surprised both of them.

"Shit," Clarke swore softly, staring at the woman now clutching her jaw. "I... I didn't think I'd actually hit you." She looked down at her left hand, which now burned from the impact, but there was no redness or abrasion. "I thought it'd pass right through you, that you weren't real either."

The dark-haired woman glared at Clarke briefly before she worked her jaw from side to side, finally lowering her left hand from where it had been cradling her face. "I am not a physical entity, Clarke, but I assure you I am real. Real to those who can perceive me, and real to you most of all."

"Then what the fuck are you?" Clarke asked, beyond frustrated with mystery and hinting around the truth.

"I am the Commander's Flame, Clarke," the woman said calmly. "I am Heda Prime, the first commander, the progenitor of the Nightbloods." She smiled. "But you can call me BECA."

—O—

FOUR DAYS AGO

Clarke rubbed her right arm at the site where the young Flamekeeper Cicero had injected her with a vial of the Nightblood. It was a dull soreness, not unlike when she had been given her twelve-year-old vaccinations aboard the Ark. She knew she couldn't feel the mysterious substance altering her bone marrow, modifying her red and white blood cells and rewriting her DNA, but it was still quite unnerving knowing what would be happening over the next few hours.

She smiled at how nervous the teenaged Cicero had been, his hand jerking while holding the pneumatic needleless injector. She had tried to calm him down by showing him how to hold it and maintain steady pressure while delivering an injection, but having Wanheda demonstrate her knowledge of one of their most secret rituals had produced the exact opposite effect on him.

It had taken Lexa forcibly putting the young man in a chair for a few minutes to get his hands to stop shaking. After that, he did fine with the injection.

"You did well, Cicero," Clarke said, smiling at the young man as he politely wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Like you'd practiced it a hundred times."

"Th-thank you, Wanheda," he managed to get out as he placed the now-empty vial that once held the Nightblood back into the padded case. Several other sealed vials were still full of the inky substance, which remained fluid even after a hundred years.

"And now for the second step," Lexa said, looking down at the smaller metal case on the table next to the injector and the case holding the Nightblood. She looked up at the young Flamekeeper. "Are you sufficiently recovered, Cicero?" she asked.

"S-Sha, Heda," the boy replied, nodding a few times. He had already carried out one of his people's most secret, most sacred rituals this morning, and now he was about to carry out another. "I have already cleaned the tools with the strongest alcohol, heated them to sterilize them, then cleaned them again once they cooled."

"Good," Lexa replied flatly. "Then we shall proceed." She sat down in the metal skeleton of a chair, leaning her head forward to rest her forehead on the padded rest. This exposed as much of her posterior neck as possible, and when she pulled her long brown hair to the side to expose the tattoo on the back of her neck, Clarke shivered involuntarily.

She's entrusting me with the most sacred thing her people possess, Clarke thought, her heart thrumming powerfully as the tip of Cicero's scalpel hovered just over Lexa's skin. How can I be worthy of that?

Clarke gently stretched the skin on each side of the tattoo. "I'll maintain steady traction while you cut. Just like we discussed. Keep the angle of the blade perpendicular to the skin, then make a smooth, straight incision. Follow the central line of the tattoo."

Cicero looked up, meeting Clarke's eyes, and nodded, sweat beginning on bead on his face.

"Hey," Clarke said gently. When he looked up at her, visibly afraid, she smiled at him. "You can do this," she said calmly. "Heda believes in you, and I believe in you."

"Th-thank you, Wanheda," he mumbled softly.

His cut was smooth and straight. He hadn't gone quite deep enough at first, and Clarke thought she heard a soft hiss of pain when he had to trace a deeper cut inside the first incision. But then a soft oozing of black blood came up, at the same time Cicero pulled the scalpel away.

"I felt the tip of the blade touch the Flame," he said, as much to himself as to anyone else.

Clarke nodded. "Yeah, the scalpel is delicate enough that it transmits sensation to your fingertips. You definitely know if you contact glass or metal."

Cicero picked up some of the sterilized squares of cloth that had been boiled the previous day, using two of them to soak up the inky blood. The glint of light on metal rewarded his actions, and he gasped involuntarily when he realized he was seeing the Flame itself, exposed before him.

"That's it," Clarke whispered softly, amazed as finally having visual proof of the Flame's existence. "We see it, Lexa."

Despite her careful concentration, there was still a hint of strain audible to Clarke in her wife's words. "Please remove it, Cicero," Lexa spoke slowly. "It must go with Wanheda for now."

There was no movement or sound for a few seconds.

"Cicero," Clarke said softly, wincing when the sixteen-year-old visibly jumped.

"M-My apologies, Wanheda, Heda," he stammered.

"You are the Flamekeeper now, Cicero," Lexa said, trying not to grit her teeth at the fiery pain slashing through the back of her neck. "You must do your duty and transfer the Flame to Wanheda for now."

Cicero looked up at Clarke, then back at the dark gray metal case visible beneath the thin layer of black that had nearly covered it at this point. He nodded again. "Sha, Heda," he said, swallowing and summoning up as much courage as he could, carefully extending his finger and pressing the holy symbol etched into the metal case.

Instantly thin tendrils rose up from around the metal rectangle, making both Cicero's and Clarke's eyes widen dramatically. As they watched, the tiny lengths of wire and metal retracted themselves into the metal case.

"Has it detached?" Clarke asked Lexa.

"Yes," Lexa whispered, closing her eyes at the severing of her contact with all the Hedas before her. Their thoughts and memories had been conjoined with her own for years, and it felt as though part of her mind had been amputated. "Yes," she said again, trying not to weep at the vast emptiness she felt inside her psyche.

"Remove it," Clarke said, her voice shaky. She looked at Cicero again. "Remove it, Cicero. It's detached now."

The boy's fingers shook once again as he wiped the blood away. He carefully grasped the edges of the Flame, then he slowly lifted it free of Lexa's neck.

"Okay, you clean it off," Clarke said. "I'll sew her neck up." She reached out for the suture kit and nylon suture they had retrieved from Mount Weather before it had been destroyed. The tools were old, but according to the stamping, they had been sterilized just three years ago.

Clarke moved quickly as she worked, trying to end Lexa's suffering as soon as possible. The needle danced back and forth as Clarke worked, the tips of her tissue forceps deftly grasping and releasing as they flowed back and forth in tune with the needle drivers as Clarke swiftly closed the incision on her lover's neck. It only took a few minutes to complete, despite the length of the incision, and Clarke smiled as she gently scrubbed the inky blood away from the now-closed incision with a piece of cloth moistened with alcohol. "All done," Clarke said, placing a kiss on the back of Lexa's head before she spoke.

Lexa slowly sat up, arching her back with an audible pop. She took in a deep breath, keeping her eyes closed for several seconds as she regained her composure. When she opened her eyes, Clarke's bright blue eyes, shining with adoration, were the first things she saw.

"You did great," Clarke said, smiling as she reached out and cupped Lexa's right cheek with her left hand. "I'm probably going to scream."

Lexa eyes Clarke with a curious expression. "I was not aware you were a screamer," she said calmly.

Clarke's jaw dropped open. "LEXA!" she gasped, only to nearly choke when a sly grin crept across her wife's face. "Holy shit, did you just make a joke?!"

"Don't tell anyone," Lexa said firmly, the smile shrinking but not going away. She called out over her shoulder, "That goes for you too, Cicero."

"O-Of course not, Heda!" the boy replied quickly.

"You're so bad," Clarke said quietly, grinning.

"Terrible," Lexa agreed playfully. "Now it's your turn." She carefully stood up, moving to allow Clarke to take her previous position on the metal chair.

As Clarke started to rest her forehead against the padded rest, she stopped and looked up at Lexa. "Are you sure about this, Lexa?" Clarke asked, her voice gentle. "I mean, I haven't been chosen to become a Heda."

"No, you have not," Lexa replied simply, surprising Clarke. "You have been chosen as Wanheda. There is no precedent for Wanheda, so who's to say that what we're doing is wrong?"

"Lean forward, Wanheda," Cicero said, his voice wavering slightly as he moved behind where Clarke sat in the metal chair. "Bend your head downward slightly."

Clarke couldn't help but gasp slightly as she felt the cold burn of alcohol applied to the back of her neck. She blinked her eyes twice before Lexa's face suddenly appeared beneath her, looking up at her with a proud smile on her face.

"You are my houmon, Clarke," Lexa said tenderly, her green eyes beginning to well with unshed tears as she reached forward and gently held Clarke's face with her hands. "I will protect you as I will our people, because you are part of us. You are part of me."

Clarke's eyes snapped shut as she felt the pressure of skin being stretched taut, followed by a sting that quickly lengthened down her posterior neck, building into a burning, lancinating pain that brought tears to her eyes despite all her willpower.

"I am here for you, Clarke," Lexa said, caressing Clarke's cheek with her left hand. When the blonde's eyes flicked open, Lexa felt her own heart ache at the pain reflected in Clarke's eyes. She would have gladly borne the pain again if she could, but she knew that Clarke had to do this herself.

Clarke kept her mouth clamped tight, afraid of crying or moaning should she open it in an attempt to speak. But the warm pressure of Lexa's lips against her own made her open her mouth slightly allowing Lexa to press their mouths together tightly, swallowing Clarke's soft whimpers of pain as she tried to take as much of her houmon's pain as possible from her. Pride burned within Lexa's chest as Clarke persevered through the searing agony.

Finally Cicero sat up, sighing with relief. "The Comm— the Flame is in place."

"You did it," Lexa said, her lips still close enough that forming the words brushed them against Clarke's.

"He... still has to sew me up," Clarke spoke weakly, her voice strained. "Which will suck too."

Lexa smiled. "Then I suppose I will have to kiss you again."

—O—

NOW

Clarke raised her left hand to her head in an attempt to stop her mind from spinning and her ears from screaming. She was so discombobulated that she nearly hit herself in the forehead with her pistol before she realized she was still holding it. "What the fuck else could happen today..." she muttered to herself.

"Don't tempt the cosmos, Clarke."

Clarke looked up to the the brunette in the black jumpsuit regarding her with a look that could have come straight off of Raven's—

Shit.

"RAVEN!" Clarke gasped, running forward to where her friend was slumped on the ground. The pool of blood from the nearest dead body had nearly seeped onto Raven's shoulder where she had collapsed, so Clarke immediately pulled her friend's body closer to her. She was surprised by how easily that action was accomplished; Raven certainly wasn't large by any means, but it was like she slid across the metal floor with almost no resistance.

"It's the Nightblood," said a calm voice behind where Clarke sat on the floor, holding Raven's head and upper body in her lap. "It's beginning to increase the efficiency of your musculature, by improving its oxygenation and the removal of cellular waste."

Clarke turned around to see the brunette—Becca?—kneeling down beside her, that same patient look on her face. "So what, you can read my mind now?"

"Not exactly," replied the woman, who appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties. "But close enough. To be more precise, I am part of your mind. For now."

"And why is it I can see you?" asked Clarke. "I mean, Lexa never saw you, and I think she'd have told me that, but I guess I could be wrong."

"I wasn't aware I could do this," the older woman said, using her hands to vaguely indicate her own body, "until I saw ALIE do it with those she had taken over. I spent the last two days studying her code and the modifications she had made in her subjects, monitoring her communications with them, slowly making adjustments in my interface with you, while being careful to not show my presence until it was time."

The brunette sighed, and the look of sorrow on her face was utterly human. "I can only guess at how many humans ALIE must have experimented on to discover how to communicate with them in a multisensory fashion and then control them."

Clarke stared at the woman, hesitant to speak aloud what she was thinking. Then the brunette's dark brown eyes slid to look directly into Clarke's gaze.

"Despite what I've learned from studying ALIE's interface, I'm not ever going to use my connections like that," BECA said, understanding Clarke's wariness. "I was designed by the Creator to work with humans, Clarke, not independently of them. I am part of whomever I am bonded with, and all my programming has been hard-coded to ensure that I can never usurp control from my human side."

BECA sighed sadly. "ALIE was supposed to protect humanity too," she said wearily. "After her betrayal, the Creator made sure I could never act in such a horrific way."

A pained groan came from where Clarke was holding Raven in her lap, drawing Clarke's attention.

"Raven will not see or hear me," BECA said quickly. "I am blocking all perception of me by those with ALIE's implants for the time being."

"Probably a good idea," Clarke replied quietly, nodding to herself as she checked Raven's pulse again.

"I have maintained the neural rewiring ALIE performed on Raven's damaged spinal cord and nerve roots," BECA added. "She will retain her ability to walk."

Clarke looked up, surprise writ across her face. "You can do that?!" she asked, dumbfounded.

BECA nodded, a gentle smile on her face. "It had already been done. I am merely maintaining the repairs, along with the blocking of pain signals. At some point we will need to discuss what I have learned from ALIE's modifications to your people and my analysis of her code."

"It might be helpful to talk to my mom, too," Clarke said thoughtfully.

"Why the fuck would I talk to your mom, Clarke?" Raven mumbled, her head pounding and her equilibrium whirling sickeningly. "Other than this massive fucking whatever it is going on in my—"

Raven shot upward into a sitting position so quickly that Clarke was reflexively sliding backward away from her. "Where is that bitch?!" Raven snarled, looking around the room. "WHERE IS THAT FUCKING HIGH-HEEL-WEARING BITCH, GODDAMMIT?!"

"She's gone," Clarke said. "At least for now."

Raven narrowed her dark eyes as she fixed Clarke with an angry glare. "Did you kill her?" Raven asked, the pitch of her voice threateningly low.

"This manifestation of her here, yes," Clarke replied. "But she's a computer program, Raven, so she's still functioning wherever her main server is located. She's been erased from everyone here, and Wick changed the perimeter of Arkadia into a makeshift Faraday cage, so sh—"

"So she can't transmit herself back in or get any signals back from here," Raven said sharply. "I know what a Faraday cage is, Clarke. I was possessed, not stupid. Jesus fucking Christ."

Now Clarke allowed herself to smile and cry. "God, I'm so glad you're back, Rae," she said as she hugged her friend.

—O—

"Thank you for sharing your food with us," Elsa said politely as she finished the last of her water. Monroe and Harper had two carved wooden cups and a pitcher with a lid they had used to store water from their spring, but Elsa had made cups for her and Anna. It was still a strain to use her powers, but with Anna nearby the drain was more along the lines of fatigue than outright exhaustion, at least for objects as simple as cups.

Harper and Monroe had offered to share their dinner with the two queens, and the two Arendellans felt honor-bound to accept. The meal was simple, roasted venison, carrots and potatoes, but it represented a significant amount of the food Harper and Monroe were keeping stored in their makeshift "cellar," which was mostly just a small pit they had dug out and lined with mostly flat stones, covering it with a lid of tightly-bound branches weighted down with a heavy flagstone.

Now it was well past dark, but the company and conversation had both been so nice that neither couple was quite ready for dinner to end.

"You should build a creekhouse just right down below the pool you use," Anna said, pointing where the stream entered the forest. "You've got plenty of wood nearby, and combined with the shade of the forest and the temperature of the stream, you'll be able to keep food longer."

"Normally I'd make you an icebox," Elsa said, face slightly miffed, "but I expect my enchantments won't last for long here without Anna or me on hand to sustain their magic."

"We appreciate the thought, but we have to learn to do it for ourselves," Monroe said. She had been surprised about an hour ago, when she realized she felt a kinship of sorts with the redheaded Anna, not just over their shared hair color (which was rare enough) but also over their similarly practical, no-nonsense attitudes. And maybe the fact that they had both fallen in love with beautiful blondes.

"We appreciate the offer," offered Harper, standing as she took the metal skewers and utensils that had been brought to them several days ago by one of the pilgrims offering thanks to Jusdonosir. She placed them in the tightly-woven basket they used to carry things that needed to be washed down to the creek, then she straightened her back and stretched slowly, savoring the feeling of her back popping into place briefly before a flash of pain in her left hip made her gasp and doubled her over.

"What happened?" asked Anna.

"Are you alright?" Elsa asked at the same time, concern on both their faces.

"I'm fine," Harper said through her clenched teeth as she clutched at her now-aching left hip. "Just... a old injury."

Monroe had stood and was now supporting Harper's weight momentarily as the long-haired blonde held her awkward position until the wave of pain had mostly receded.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Anna asked quietly.

"It just aches sometimes," Harper said, smiling at Monroe, who hadn't fully withdrawn her arms from steadying her lover. "It'll stop in a minute."

Elsa carefully stepped forward, extending her left arm toward Harper's left hip but stopping to meet Harper's gaze before actually touching her. "May I?" she asked pleasantly.

After a brief pause, Harper nodded. "Sure?" she said weakly, uncertain of what Elsa was planning.

Elsa smiled back, then lightly touched her hand to Harper's hip. She sent a pulse of cold through the aching crest of bone, quickly diminishing the dull pain and replacing it with a more tolerable numbness.

Elsa stood back up, withdrawing her hand. "I iced it for you. It won't last forever, but maybe it'll hold for a few hours of relief."

"And the cold won't give her frostbite?" asked Monroe, not wanting to seem rude but understandably concerned about her partner.

"No, I told it explicitly to not harm her in any way," replied Elsa.

"You... told it," Monroe said, disbelieving eyes so fixated on Elsa that she missed Harper rolling her own eyes. "Not to hurt her."

Elsa nodded.

"It feels much better, thank you," Harper said, raising her voice a bit and not bothering to hide the hint of exasperation at her lover's confusion. "Zoe, it's fine, baby, really." Harper extended her left arm, stepping closer so that she could curl her arm around Monroe's small waist. "The pain's pretty much gone now." She looked at Elsa. "Thank you," she said politely.

Elsa smiled back as Anna stepped against her, the redhead's freckled arms curling themselves around Elsa's torso as Anna snuggled in against her wife. "You're most welcome," Elsa replied pleasantly. "Thank you again for dinner."

"I'll provide the meal next time," Anna said, grinning. "I brought my bow and arrows with me."

"Yeah, I'm still learning," Monroe said, reflexively running her hand over her closely shorn red hair. "Having to practice every day that I can. That kid Dido's been a good teacher, though."

The quirky look on Harper's face made Monroe pause momentarily. "What?" she finally asked, unable to keep from smiling at how beautiful her girlfriend was.

"Kid?" the blonde asked playfully. "She's what, a year or two younger than we are?"

"Yeah, well, we've got our own place and everything," Monroe replied, waving her head in the direction of their tent and campsite.

"Ohhh," Harper said, a loving smile spreading across her face. She moved to put her arms around Monroe's neck, resting her arms on the petite redhead's strong shoulders. "I love it when you talk all domestic to me."

An intense blush quickly bloomed across Monroe's fair cheeks, making Harper and Anna laugh out loud. (Elsa was better at concealing amusement.)

"Next thing I know, you'll be asking me out," Harper teased, lightly kissing her lover's forehead.

"Think we've gone a bit past that," Monroe mumbled, trying not to smile at the affection Harper was lavishing on her.

"Oh, we have," Harper agreed happily, smiling as she looked into Monroe's green eyes. "And it—just like you—has been amazing."

Anna yawned and stretched, arms upward and splaying out to the side as she loudly groaned with the exertion. "I think we're going to head back to... Arkadia?" she asked, looking to Elsa and getting a polite nod in reply. "Yeah, Arkadia. Thank you again for dinner, and for the conversation."

"We're glad the two of you found each other," Elsa added, smiling as she gently reached out and lightly clasped first Monroe's, then Harper's hand. "See you in the morning?"

The two younger women nodded. "Yeah, Harp's working a morning shift doing close patrol tomorrow, and I'll be helping Abby and Jackson in Medical tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Elsa said pleasantly. "Then Anna and I will see you in the morning."

"Can you two find your way back?" Harper asked, genuinely unsure.

"We can," Elsa replied. It had been a fairly simple walk, and at this proximity Elsa could feel the horses they had left back at Arkadia.

"Do you need a light?" asked Monroe. "We have a flashlight if you need it for the walk back. We charge the batteries with the solar array back at the Ark."

The look of puzzlement on the face of the two Arendellans momentarily surprised the two young women, until they remembered the cultural divide.

"It's, uh..." Harper said, looking around. "A flashlight is like a lantern, but without a flame. Instead of burning oil or wood, it generates light through electricity that's stored in a battery."

"A lantern without a flame?" Anna asked, curious. "That's different."

"Not entirely," Elsa said softly. When Anna turned to look at her, Elsa said, "Draw your sword, my heart, with the cold turned down."

"Ahhh," Anna said, smiling as she made the connection. "Yeah, good point." She bent over and picked up her belt, with her sword and shield both attached. She slowly slid the crystalline blade from its scabbard.

Instantly a soft white glow bathed the clearing around the small campsite in cool light.

"Jesus," Monroe swore softly, eyes wide at the sight. Harper was likewise mesmerized, leaning against her slightly smaller partner and unconsciously holding onto Monroe. Their full attention was transfixed on the glowing blade until the first wave of cold washed over them, causing Monroe to shiver briefly.

"Sorry," Anna said a bit hesitantly. "I'm dampening it as much as I can."

"It's beautiful," Harper said softly, still watching the blue-white light as she wrapped her arms around Monroe and shared her warmth with her lover; Monroe tended to get cold more easily than Harper, something which Harper would lightly tease her about when they were alone but never in the presence of others.

"Looks like you've got the flashlight covered after all," Monroe said, a quirky grin on her face as she looked up at the other redhead.

Anna grinned in reply; she liked Monroe's odd sense of humor after having an hour or two getting to know the reticent girl. "Yeah, we should be good on the walk back, but thank you for offering the flameless light."

"We hope we see you two again tomorrow," Elsa said, smiling as she took Anna's swordbelt from her wife's left hand. With a smoothness that revealed long practice, she opened the belt and encircled Anna's waist with it, reaching around the redhead and fastening the buckle before settling the belt into place at her wife's hips.

"Count on it," Harper said with a smile. "Zoe and I have really enjoyed talking to the two of you."

"We feel the same way," Anna said as she sheathed her sword, dimming the surrounding light back to the yellow-orange glow from the nearby fire. "You two are so young, but you're already building a life together."

"You have to grow up fast on the ground," Harper replied calmly. "Otherwise you die."

"Is there anything we can do for you before we head back to Arkadia?" Elsa asked.

"I think we're good," Monroe said, leaning back into Harper's taller frame. "Thanks for asking."

"Of course," Elsa answered. "Then we'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye!" Anna added, waving briefly.

"Good night," said Monroe.

"See you tomorrow!" added Harper.

—O—

Just over two hours later, after the fire had been banked for the night and Harper and Monroe had retired to their tent and the large sleeping bag they shared, the two young women relaxed in each other's embrace, their naked bodies sharing heat as they both came down from the endorphin highs of making love.

"So," Monroe mumbled softly, drifting close to the edge of slumber as she luxuriated in Harper's gentle embrace. Her ears were ringing slightly from Harper screaming a bit too close to her ear earlier, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make to feel Harper's shuddering, shrieking orgasm when the blonde girl came beneath her.

"Yeah?" Harper replied softly, her own throat a bit raw from screaming so much earlier. Zoe had made her climax three times over the last thirty minutes, and all the nerve endings just beneath the surface of her skin continued to tingle and buzz pleasantly in the afterglow.

"It's getting colder," Monroe said matter-of-factly.

Harper sighed. She knew what her girlfriend meant. "Yeah, it is."

They had only superficially talked about what they were going to do as autumn faded into winter. Truthfully, they were still struggling to grasp the reality of seasons, growing up as they did on the Ark and its unchanging environment. Since they had been on the ground, there hadn't been too much difference between spring, summer and now autumn beyond how long the daylight lasted, but Dido's concern for their safety living in their tent was growing each day as the nights began to grow noticeably cooler.

"Do you think we could maybe build a little structure over and around the tent?"

Harper shifted her body, turning so she could look up into Monroe's intense emerald eyes. "Maybe." She snuggled in more tightly against Monroe's bare chest. "We could ask the Trikru tomorrow if they could help up plan something out."

"You're still getting worshipers. Maybe they'd be willing to help."

Harper's eyes shifted upward to give Monroe a brief glare. "You know that creeps me out a bit when you use that word."

"I don't know," Monroe said, smirking as she kissed Harper's forehead. "Kinda hot fucking a goddess, if you ask me."

"God," groaned Harper, rolling her eyes.

"No, goddess."

"Go to sleep. Or this goddess might excommunicate you outside for the night."

Monroe grinned. "I don't think it works that way, your godliness."

Now Harper actually tilted her head back so she could look up and meet Monroe's gaze. "Wanna bet?" she asked seriously, smiling when Monroe quietly settled her head down on Harper's chest with a happy grin.

—O—

Monroe wasn't exactly sure what had woken her up. It was still thoroughly dark outside, and Harper was still soundly asleep in the redhead's arms. She didn't need to pee, Harper wasn't tossing or having a nightmare, and she felt fine for abruptly coming out of sleep at an odd time.

The sound of a grumbling outside their tent instantly propelled Monroe into full-blown wakefulness, though, and the noise of scratching and stone briefly scraping against stone grated against Monroe's ears as the small but formidable girl slid out from the side of the sleeping bag and unzipped the opaque door to their tent. She grabbed a flashlight as she scrambled outside.

"Zoe?" Harper mumbled, still partly asleep until the cold rush of air blew in through the tent's open door, sliding beneath the flap of the partially opened sleeping bag and chilling her nude body. "Zoe?!" Harper said louder, grabbing at a shirt as she saw her lover's bare ass disappear out of the tent's doorway.

Monroe swung the beam of light from the flashlight toward the rumbling and growling, which was coming from the stones where they stored their food. A large creature with dark brown fur was trying to shove its nose beneath the top stone, and it had succeeded in partially dislodging the cover stone. The stone was heavy enough that Harper and Monroe used a lever to lift and slide the stone, something they had learned to do after raccoons had removed a smaller capstone to pilfer their food stores several months ago.

"Shit," Monroe swore as the large bear turned toward the light playing across its dark snout, its eyes reflecting a brilliant yellow in the light's beam. Large teeth jutted outward from its lower jaw, rising alongside its snout, which appeared somewhat misshapen. Its dark muzzle was matted with dirt and earth from trying to dig beneath the heavy stone, and it rumbled unpleasantly as it regarded the biped facing it.

Monroe quickly stepped to the fire, grabbing the unburnt end of a longer stick and pulling it free of the dwindling fire. Just moments ago, the chill of the night air against her naked body had been so brisk as to make her shiver, but now she was shaking for an entirely different reason as the bear shifted its massive bulk to point in her direction, snorting once as it did so.

"Zoe, what the f—"

"Harper, stay back!" Monroe said loudly, not taking her eyes off the bear. She shifted the still-burning end of the moderately thick piece of wood toward the bear, brandishing it toward the creature. Bears were scared of fire, weren't they?

"Oh, fuck me," Harper swore to herself as she saw the bear, slightly taller at the shoulder than Monroe, even with it still on all fours. "Zoe, step back to me, baby. Slow."

"It's scared of the fire," Monroe said firmly, hoping and praying to any entity that might be listening that she was right. The way the makeshift torch shook in her hand wasn't helping her confidence much.

"Yeah, that's why you need to step back here, toward the fire."

"Harp, it's trying to get our fucking food!"

"Zoe, I don't want it to kill you!" Harper's voice turned shrill on those last two words, and she immediately lunged back into the tent. It only took seconds to find what she was looking for, then she was crawling backwards on her hands and knees after grabbing the rifle she had taken back to their tent over a week ago.

It had been against Pike's orders for any firearms other than a pistol to leave Arkadia without explicit permission, but Marcus Kane and David Miller had both met Harper just outside Arkadia the night Charles Pike had implicitly threatened Monroe's life at the Council meeting. Neither of the two men had said a word as David had stoically handed Harper a rifle and an extra clip of ammunition; he and Marcus had both just given Harper a serious look that explained all that needed to be said. Likewise, she had been silent when she took the rifle from them, accepting the gift with a simple nod but with emotion shining through her eyes.

She just never thought she'd be using the rifle on a fucking bear.

Harper turned on the attached flashlight, lifting the weapon to her shoulder as she pointed it in the direction of the bear. She knew its fur and fat would stop a small-caliber bullet like the rifle, but she wasn't going to let a stupid thing like an asshole bear take away the woman she loved.

"Zoe, don't move to your left," Harper said as she aimed through the rifle's open sight, focusing on the bear's snout as she shifted into a steady pattern of breathing to help stabilize her aim.

"Harp, what are you doing?" Monroe replied, unable to tear her gaze away from the hulking creature less than ten feet away from her.

"DON'T MOVE TO YOUR LEFT," Harper repeated, firmly and loudly as she aimed just short of her lover's left shoulder, the tip of the sight bar kept steadily over the bear's mouth as she debated whether to aim for the mouth or the eye. "If you have to move, move to your right! And keep your left arm down!"

"You're scaring me, Harp," Monroe said, then she nearly laughed from the absurdity of her statement in the face of staring down a hungry bear.

The bear pawed a step toward Monroe, who waved the flaming stick toward it, dutifully keeping her left arm down. In response the irritated bear opened its maw, raised its muzzle and growled fiercely at the small biped trying to drive it away from the food it continued to smell.

The crack of a rifle shot split the night; even with the noise muffled by the built-in suppressor, the sound made Monroe jump with fright, leaping to her right as the bear made a noise between choking and groaning. It teetered uneasily for long seconds before it fell awkwardly to its left with a heavy crash.

Harper ran several steps forward, stopping just a few feet away as she aimed the rifle at the bear's nearest eye; she fired one shot into the eye, then another shot into the same place a few seconds later.

There was a tired sigh as the bear's body slowly went limp, settling into the stillness of death. Its back legs kicked awkwardly a few times, about a second apart, until they finally stopped after a half-dozen throes.

"Holy fuck, Harp," Monroe said breathlessly. "You just killed a bear."

Harper limply held the rifle at her side, her eyes burning at the massive creature that lay dead before them. "Yeah," the blonde said numbly, shivering from the combination of the cool night air and the realization of how the span of just a few seconds going differently could have left her heartbroken and alone.

She whirled to her partner, fury still sparking in her eyes. "That was fucking stupid, Zoe!" she said sharply, causing the nude redhead to wince in surprise.

"What?" Monroe replied, the biting of the cold over her exposed body inconsequential when compared to the shock she felt at Harper's harsh words.

"You were trying to run off a bear with a fucking stick!" Harper said, waving in the direction of the dead beast. "It could have KILLED YOU!"

Monroe was so surprised that she couldn't speak for several seconds. Over that time, all she could do was examine Harper's beautiful (if furious) face, and those careful seconds of analysis were all it took to defuse the reflexive anger that had started building in Monroe's chest.

Harper was terrified.

Only the blonde's anger was keeping her standing, judging from the way her bare legs were shaking and her whole body was trembling. She was standing out in the cold in just a long shirt, the goosebumps on her legs and arms were plainly visible and fuck, it was cold out here.

"Harp, can we put some clothes on, at least? It's damn cold."

Zoe Monroe was not prepared for an emotional dam to burst behind Harper's brown eyes. The blonde lightly dropped the rifle on the ground as tears began to well in her eyes, then she rushed across the distance between the two of them and threw her arms around Monroe, hugging her with a fierce protectiveness.

"I can't lose you, baby," Harper whispered loudly as she buried her face against Monroe's short red hair. "I can't fucking lose you, not ever!"

"Hey, you haven't lost me, okay?" Monroe replied, soaking up the warmth of Harper's body and returning the embrace tightly. "I'm still right here. A stupid bear isn't going to kill me."

"But it could have. I could have killed you, if you'd moved to the left!"

"But you told me not to, and I didn't, right?" Monroe replied, looking up into Harper's glistening eyes. "How did you kill that thing?"

"I shot it in its mouth," Harper said, her hands and feet tingling from some combination of cold and terror. "When it opened up and roared at you. Gave me a good shot at the roof of its mouth and the back of its throat."

"Holy fuck," Monroe swore, amazed at her girlfriend's accuracy. "I knew you were a good shot, but Jesus."

"It was less than twenty feet away," Harper argued weakly. "And it was threatening you. I'd have stuck the barrel in its fucking mouth and shot it that way if I'd had to."

The distant sound of crunching leaves at the edge of the nearby woods claimed their attention, with the noise giving way as the person running left the treeline and entered the grassy plain.

"Sounds like we're about to have company," Monroe said. "I really should put some clothes on. And so should you."

"I want to make sure it's dead," Harper said, looking at the bear's carcass.

"Well, considering it hasn't been breathing or tried to move for a few minutes, I think we're good, but you do you, Harp," Monroe said with a warm smile.

"Get some clothes on so I don't have to chase off anybody lusting after you, sexy," Harper said, finally smiling as she gave her lover a light push toward their tent. "I'll put on some pants once you're back out."

No sooner had Monroe closed the flap of the tent than Harper heard a familiar voice call out, "Jusdonosir! Mon-Roe!"

The lithe form of the teenaged Dido crested the edge of the hill into the glow of the low firelight, her bow already in her hand with an arrow nocked on the string.

"We're alright, Dido," Harper said, bringing the girl to a quick stop as she took in Harper's barely-clothed body. Harper closed her eyes briefly as she felt her body flush; she was likely putting on a show giving the cool temperature and her only wearing a light shirt that didn't quite reach mid-thigh.

"Monroe's getting dressed. Once she's back out here, then I'll put on more clothes. We were woken up by a bear trying to get into our food stores."

Dido paled. "Did it run from the noise of your Skai weapon?" she asked quickly.

"No, I killed it," Harper said, gesturing behind her. "Shot it through its mouth, then put two bullets into its brain through its eye."

Dido stared at her, mouth partly open as she stood perfectly still.

The zipping of the tent door heralded Monroe coming back out, now wearing a shirt, pants, socks and boots, although the laces of the boots were still untied. "Hey, kid," Monroe said to Dido pleasantly. "Thought I heard your voice."

When there was no reply, Monroe moved to stand in front of the Trikru girl. "Kid?" she asked. "Dido?"

"I think I broke her when I told her I killed the bear," Harper explained.

"I saw some of the Maun-de try to kill a kripa once, using their forbidden weapons," Dido finally said, her voice oddly distant. "They shot it a dozen times, and it still killed one, maybe two of them before it ran off."

Harper nodded. "Yeah, their fur and fat are so thick it's hard for the bullets to go deep enough to seriously hurt them."

"Much the same for arrows," replied the Grounder girl, her head finally turning to look at Harper again. "The risk of trying kill one outweighs the benefit in most cases."

A brisk shiver reminded Harper that all she was wearing was a t-shirt. "I need to put on some clothes while we decide what to do with this thing," she said. She knelt to pick her rifle back up; she'd take the bullet out of the chamber once she was back inside their tent, where there would be less risk of dropping the round and losing it in the dark.

"We'll be here," Monroe said, stopping Harper long enough to kiss her on the lips. "Thank you for saving my life," she said, seriously.

The brown eyes Zoe loved passionately danced with delight as Harper smiled, her cheeks turning red from the low temperature. And maybe from a bit of blushing. "I will always save your life, Zoe Monroe," she whispered. "Because I love you. Even if you do pick fights with bears."

Monroe swallowed. "I love you, too," she replied, blinking her eyes to keep from crying. "Go get some clothes on. Save the naked for our sleeping bag."

"Yes, Ma'am," Harper replied with a confident smirk. She knelt and crawled back into the tent, trying to not put any more of herself on display than was necessary with the motion.

Monroe flicked the switch on their larger flashlight, conjuring the beam of light back into existence. "You, uh, want to see the bear?" she asked Dido.

—O—

"Oh my God, Clarke, what has she done to you?" Abby asked breathlessly as she analyzed the monitor displaying the scan of Clarke's brain and cervical spine—including the rectangular metal object and the thin tendrils connecting it to Clarke's occipital brain and brainstem.

"She saved my life, Mom," Clarke said icily, her voice sounding tinny through the ringing in her ears. Her hearing was improving, but it still wasn't back to where it should be.

It was just the two of them in the medical wing's operating room; Clarke had insisted on her mother being the only one in the room when she realized that Abby wasn't going to take no for an answer regarding examining Clarke, not after the deaths back in the residential section. Raven was being tended to by Jackson in the main patient room, which had been emptied since Abby had discharged Elsa and Anna; Lincoln, Octavia and two guards were also present tending to (and monitoring) the surviving Arkadians who had attacked Clarke. None of them showed any signs of aggression or hostility, although their memories of what had happened in that locked room seemed to be fuzzy at best.

Clarke had been hard-pressed to get Anna and Elsa to leave her alone after the assault Jaha had orchestrated. It was only a promise of Clarke coming out and explaining things to them as soon as she was cleared by her mother that succeeded in getting the blonde and redhead to wait just outside the medical section.

But that required getting through her mother and her simmering dislike for Lexa without committing matricide.

"How is this any different than what Thelonius was doing to those people?" Abby hissed at Clarke. "She put an implant in your brain, Clarke!"

"After she took it out of her own head, Mother!" Clarke snapped back. "She gave me the single most sacred thing the Grounders have! Because she wanted to PROTECT ME!" Clarke took a moment to take a deep breath before speaking again. "And I am ridiculously grateful to her for doing what she did, because she absolutely saved my life by doing so."

"And your blood!" Abby added, throwing her hands up in the air. "Do you know what the long-term side effects of her altering your red and white blood cells, your bone marrow, your DNA, will be?!"

"Yeah!" Clarke said loudly. "I get to HAVE a 'long-term'!"

Clarke sighed loudly, running her left hand through her hair. She looked at Abby, who was staring back at her with an expression of fury mixed with fear. This shit has to stop, Clarke thought to herself.

"Look, Mom," Clarke began, keeping her voice deliberately calm. "I know you hate Lexa."

"Clarke—"

Clarke held up her left hand to stop her mother. "I know. You've made it obvious. No point in arguing. But... I love her. And whether you believe it or not, she loves me."

Abby had to bite her tongue to stay silent, when there was so much she wanted to say. But she kept her mouth closed.

"When I was so lost..." Clarke said, fighting back tears. "When I was so lost that I wanted to die, she was looking out for me. She had sent people to find me, and they brought me to her, so that she could protect me. Just like I had lost part of my soul when I killed those people in Mount Weather, she had lost part of hers when she chose to save her people instead of honor her alliance with me."

"You could have died because she abandoned you," Abby said, refraining from yelling.

"Yeah," Clarke agreed, nodding as tears began to drip from her eyes. "I could have. And it would have been her fault, if she had lost the woman she had fallen in love with."

There was a deep pause for several seconds. "Does she even know how to love, Clarke?" asked Abby, and it seemed to Clarke that this question was more serious than it was angry in tone.

Clarke blinked a few times, her wet eyelashes heavy. "She does," she answered softly. "So, so much. But she lost her first love years ago, when Nia, the leader of the Azgeda, had her—her name was Costia—kidnapped. She tortured her to death, slowly, then she sent her head back to Lexa as a warning, or maybe as a sick gift. Who knows, because Nia's pretty much evil."

"Dear God," Abby swore softly.

"Yeah, exactly," Clarke said. "So Lexa just... shut her heart off after that. Until me."

Clarke looked up, meeting her mother's curious stare with determination. "She's already sworn to me that she'll never betray me again. And I'll never betray her."

"And what happens the next time there's a conflict between her people and your people?"

Clarke laughed quietly, smiling at the ridiculousness of that question that her mother didn't realize. "Because, Mom, at this point there is no more 'Lexa's people' and 'my people.' There's only our people. All of the thirteen clans are now my people, including Skaikru. I may still be the leader here, but I'm the leader everywhere else, too, with the exception of Lexa."

Clarke walked over to her dark jacket, picking it up and handing it to her mother. She lifted the pauldron sporting a blue sash with silver stars sewn onto the ends, presenting it to Abby as the older woman held the weathered jacket. "This is my rank, Mom. They call me Wanheda, the Commander of Death, because I'm capable of both inflicting it and preventing it in ways they've never seen. I'm second in command to Lexa herself."

Clarke sighed and turned away. "And when we lead the army of the Thirteen Clans into war against Nia, I'll be helping lead the battle."

—O—

Outside the large doors to Medical, Anna snored lightly as she leaned against Elsa's chest. An icy wolf stood guard over them as Elsa herself fought to keep from drifting off, drained from the effort of creating it even with Anna holding her. It was well into the night, but neither of them felt entirely comfortable leaving Clarke unguarded after the attack on her, committed by her own people.

Clarke had been adamant that those people had been under the mental control of another and that they had been freed from that control, but both Elsa and Anna remained skeptical. That was why Elsa had also created a small ice butterfly and stationed it in the large room where the other patients were being cared for. If anything unusual happened, it would immediately let her know.

She sighed and allowed herself a few moments to miss their children, their home and the others they cared for back in Arendelle. Even though the castle staff wasn't related to them, they had always been part of Elsa's and Anna's extended family, and Elsa found herself missing many of them; she could feel those same feelings in Anna's heart as well.

She laughed softly to herself as she considered what magic Rose and Maleficent might be teaching Erin and Elin while she and Anna completed this adventure. Hopefully the castle staff wouldn't be too traumatized by them and their little sister by the time their Queens returned.

Their little girls were growing up, Elsa thought wistfully. How fortunate they were, that they didn't have to live in the world that Clarke and Lexa occupied, where just surviving each day was a struggle in itself. Arendelle certainly wasn't the most temperate country, and danger was still quite real there, but people in their homeland tended to be kind and compassionate in general, and that was a treasure that was too often taken for granted.

But not all of this new world was terrible. Some of the things they had built were incredible, both massive projects like this Ark and the devices within it as well as the smaller objects, like the "radios" they could use to communicate with each other instantly over vast distances. Medicines to treat infections and diseases, a device to look beneath the skin and see damaged organs and broken bones with ways to fix them, even a method to harness sunlight itself and direct it toward other purposes.

And hope and love continued to flourish in this harsh world, despite all the travails and obstacles set against its inhabitants. Monroe and Harper—Elsa never did ask if those were their first names, their last names or their only names, which she would have to rectify later—had survived the loss of their parents, the loss of their childhood home, multiple near-death experiences, and yet they managed to find love and carve out a life and a tiny home together. They refused to break before the trials of their world and instead chose to face each day with happiness and optimism. Polis, Arkadia, the Council of Clans all were examples of working together to build a better, safer civilization in an unforgiving world, rebuilding a world from the ashes of utter destruction.

Elsa silently nodded to herself. It would be nice if Erin and Elin could meet Monroe and Harper one day. Seeing such hardiness and perseverance in young women close to their own age (and who weren't their parents) would be good for the young teenagers. Perhaps the young couple might consider a brief vacation in Arendelle once all this business with the sorcerer and this Nia woman had been dispatched.

The feel of Anna's fingers gently squeezing Elsa's left breast disrupted the blonde's train of thought. She looked down to see her wife's face and realized that Anna was still asleep, or at least doing a very good of faking it.

Elsa smiled, letting her magic flow into Anna and then back out again as she created a shiny white blanket made entirely of woven snow, despite the fatigue worsening from the effort. She situated the blanket over the two of them from the chest down, just in case Anna's hands decided to roam some more. They weren't going anywhere, their icy wolf was standing watch and there was nothing wrong with letting themselves get more comfortable while they carried out their vigil for their friend.

Elsa glanced over at the frosted wolf. "Good boy," she said pleasantly, getting a soft whine of acknowledgment in reply, then she allowed herself to drift off to sleep.

—O—

Clarke watched as the color drained from Abby's face.

"W—" Abby began, haltingly. "War, Clarke?" she managed to squeak out.

"Absolutely," replied Clarke. "Nia has magic of her own now, plus a sorcerer who's killed hundreds of people back in Anna's and Elsa's world. We have to stop them before they get any more powerful. Lexa's already started the preparations."

Abby tried to calm her racing heart. She had just gotten Clarke back, in a way, then she nearly lost her to Thelonious Jaha just hours ago, and now... "WAR?" she repeated. "That's a bit more than you let on at the Council meeting yesterday."

Clarke nodded. "I had to calm things down here first, and that included figuring out what Jaha was up to. Him tipping his hand helped tremendously. As did me killing him. Plus—"

"How can you be so casual about that, Clarke?" Abby asked, the pitch of her voice rising. "He attacked you and was trying to turn you into one of his slaves!"

"But he didn't," Clarke replied, raising her left index finger to point upward. "He underestimated me, and he paid for that with his asshole life. And I'm 'casual' about that, as you put it, Mom, because I'm alive and he's not."

The two strong-willed women held each other's gaze for several seconds, not hostile enough to truly be called a glare but still charged with emotion.

"So what do you plan to do with those Jaha's already rigged with the implants?" Abby asked, eager to change the subject.

Without replying verbally, Clarke turned to look just over Abby's shoulder, as if studying the monitor in that line of her vision but actually looking at the manifestation of BECA standing behind Abby.

"I plan to offer each person a choice," BECA said to Clarke. "To each of them, I will explain what Thelonious Jaha and ALIE had done to them. I will maintain any repairs that were made to damaged nerves or spinal fibers, such as your friend Raven Reyes, for as long as their bodies and the implants will allow me to do so. And then I will apologize for what ALIE had done to them."

Clarke considered that for a moment. Will you continue to communicate with them? She thought.

"I will not be able to indefinitely," BECA replied solemnly. "I will be able to communicate more directly with the bearer of the Flame, now that I have learned how to do so from ALIE, but it is only through the portable server and communication nexus in the device Thelonious Jaha brought back from ALIE that allows me to manifest in the consciousness of others."

BECA paused and looked directly into Clarke's eyes. "That technology must be controlled, Clarke, both the nanites and the device capable of controlling them. Yes, it has the ability to repair nerve damage and alter brain neurochemistry. But it has just as much potential for abuse as it does for repair, as you and your people have witnessed."

Clarke took a deep breath. "I need to sit down and talk to Lexa before we make a decision on this issue," she said, both to BECA and to her mother. Then she shifted her stance to look directly at her mother. "But those people who have had physical damage repaired should be allowed to keep those repairs. Those people who have used Jaha's implants to escape into that dumbass 'City of Light,' though..."

"Is there a way to mitigate the suppression of pain and anxiety?" asked Abby.

Clarke blinked. "What?"

"A way to maybe turn it down, so to speak," Abby clarified. "Like the difference between a modest dose of an analgesic and high dose of a narcotic. One eases the pain to allow someone to keep working and functioning, where the other numbs to the point of distraction or debilitation."

Clarke nodded. "So the people who turned to Jaha to relieve their pain or suffering could keep some degree of relief while not being numbed to the point of not caring whether they live or die, or being drugged-out slaves."

Abby nodded, even chancing a smile. "Exactly," she said. "Imagine the potential for treating chronic pain, or psychiatric disorders! I've treated a few patients for major depression and bipolar disorder over twenty years, and their neurotransmitter levels have never been as well-regulated as they have been with Thelonious's implants."

Clarke subtly looked over at BECA, who nodded and smiled.

"It could easily be done," the AI projection said. "Before I disable the nanite controller, I will work with each person affected to find an acceptable level of symptom relief that still preserves their cognitive function and personality."

"I'll take to Raven and Kyle," Clarke said to her mother. "We should be able to work something out once we figure out exactly how the system in that backpack of his functions. But we need to keep it secure, in a shielded room. It's throwing off low-level radiation, plus I don't want anybody trying to access it with wireless signals."

Clarke considered what they had available, talking out loud to BECA as much as her mother. "Maybe Raven and Wick can make a shielded section inside the brig or some other secure section of the ship. Require two different people to gain access to it or something like that."

Abby nodded. "That sounds reasonable," she said calmly. She glanced up at the list of vitals displayed on one of the wall monitors. "I need to go check on the others. I'm sure Raven is berating Jackson for being confined to the patient ward. Both their heart rates are markedly elevated."

Clarke laughed once. "Yeah, probably. Tell her I'll be in there to check on her in just a minute. Maybe that'll keep her from getting too mad."

Abby reached over and rested her right hand on Clarke's left, squeezing it once in a maternal gesture that didn't seem as awkward as it had a year ago. She smiled at the young woman her daughter had become, pride mixed with regret, then she turned and went through the doors into the patient ward.

Clarke stared at the now-closed doors for long moments before she blinked the wetness away from her eyes and turned to regard BECA again.

"Please don't take this the wrong way," Clarke began, "because I'm stupidly grateful that you saved my mind and my life earlier, but I'll be really happy when you can talk to Lexa instead of me."

The projection smiled in a way that was eerily human, shifting its nonexistent weight on its virtual feet before replying. "Though you were never prepared to carry the Flame, Clarke Griffin, I am honored to have met your consciousness," the brunette said. "For in the short period of time I have shared your mind, you have taught me much. Between you and your houmon, my hope for humanity is stronger than it has been for over a century. It will be my honor to carry your consciousness as part of me, to share with future Hedas."

Clarke blinked a few times. "I'm sorr— What?"

BECA looked at Clarke, then her curious expression softened. "My apologies, Wanheda," she said calmly. "It's been so long since I was part of someone who wasn't prepared to receive the Flame. In fact, I—or rather, my creator, was the last such host."

BECA walked over to Clarke, and it took all of Clarke's congition to remind herself that the woman wasn't physically present in the room with her, particularly when the brunette carefully reached up and patted Clarke's right shoulder.

"I carry part of all Hedas with me. That includes your houmon, Lexa kom Trikru. Their memories, their experiences, their thinking all add to my neural pathways, making me more than I was before. It is this knowledge that I can share with Heda... and now with Wanheda, who has shown me a better way to communicate with my future bearers. I do not want to overwhelm you with all those thoughts and memories, as your mind has not had time to prepare for it. But always know that part of you and part of Lexa will live forever with me."

Without warning, Clarke's eyes immediately began to burn and water.

BECA smiled tenderly. "No matter what the future brings, the two of you will remain together," she continued, "as part of my pathways. Those pieces of yourselves, those parts of your minds and souls, will be forever united in the Commander's Flame, helping to guide Hedas and your people for generations to come."

With a blur of motion, Clarke "hugged" the AI's projection. On some level, Clarke knew that she wasn't embracing a real person. She really did. But as she stood there, by herself and not by herself at the same time, she felt a tangible presence that offered her a piece of the future and the taste of hope. And she clung to it with all she had.

—O—

Author's Afterword: Trying to get back into a more typical update schedule. I'm sorry again about it taking so long for this chapter to be finished and posted! We're getting there, though. I'm thinking it's going to take about twenty chapters total to complete the story at this point, maybe a bit more if I through in an epilogue or two. We'll see how it works out.

Next chapter brings Clarke and Lexa back together, plus the final fate of Charles Pike. And then there's the not-insignificant matter of impending war to deal with... Plus, what have Nia and Hans been up to lately?

Again, I'm thinking seven more chapters or so. We'll see if the story agrees. Next update hopefully in the next few weeks, because I feel really bad about this chapter taking so long to finish and post.

Thanks for reading!