[She is relieved, of course, that Clarke is alive, prayer or not. It's a thought that she's been in denial of since she first arrived. She had worried that Clarke had been lost before they even came to her, like she had been a necessary cost. But no, Clarke is safe. Likely safe. Likely. As safe as anyone is in their world.
The image she gets is almost too much. Clarke, sitting in her throne, with her mother holding a weapon in front of her. Not far from her, Ontari—Ontari, who shouldn't be back until after her death, lying on the floor bloody and ... not dead, no, she's not dead—and the blood of people, members of the Coalition, members of Skaikru, all attacking one another haphazardly—
And then there's the underlying factor: she's not there.
But there's something else: the black blood pooling along the tubing, pouring into Clarke. The fact that she seems to be unconscious. The fact that there's a reason for this, and the only reason available might be—
Lexa's features soften with understanding. As much as she wants to tear into him, she can't. She can't, because there's a truth that she's already denied once, and to deny it again would be foolish. This isn't an image that he's made up out of nowhere. Just as people have seen Clarke, just as they've seen the haunting image of Costia, a burden that she cares every day of her life, she can see this.]
We need to speak in private.
[She doesn't give him much chance to say "no," instead sweeping past him to head to her quarters. She clearly expects him to follow.]
no subject
The image she gets is almost too much. Clarke, sitting in her throne, with her mother holding a weapon in front of her. Not far from her, Ontari—Ontari, who shouldn't be back until after her death, lying on the floor bloody and ... not dead, no, she's not dead—and the blood of people, members of the Coalition, members of Skaikru, all attacking one another haphazardly—
And then there's the underlying factor: she's not there.
But there's something else: the black blood pooling along the tubing, pouring into Clarke. The fact that she seems to be unconscious. The fact that there's a reason for this, and the only reason available might be—
Lexa's features soften with understanding. As much as she wants to tear into him, she can't. She can't, because there's a truth that she's already denied once, and to deny it again would be foolish. This isn't an image that he's made up out of nowhere. Just as people have seen Clarke, just as they've seen the haunting image of Costia, a burden that she cares every day of her life, she can see this.]
We need to speak in private.
[She doesn't give him much chance to say "no," instead sweeping past him to head to her quarters. She clearly expects him to follow.]