Disclaimer: I do not own The 100. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
*****
Clarke had almost got used to waking up naked, cold and alone in a cell, but this particular morning she was neither cold or alone. She was still naked and imprisoned, which certainly wasn't great, but finding herself being spooned by an equally naked Lexa almost made it worth it, especially as it was the first time this had happened.
Sure, Clarke had been fucked into unconsciousness by Lexa nearly every night of the past week, but come morning Lexa would be nowhere to be found. But not today, and after initially being surprised by this Clarke beamed with happiness and just enjoyed this perfect moment, almost forgetting this was a truly frightening, embarrassing day for her.
Of course the moment couldn't last, and suddenly guards barged in, flanking a clearly important looking woman, "Heda! Heda! Heda, please, I need to speak to you."
In a second Lexa was on her feet and addressing the woman, "Luna, what is the meaning of this!"
Luna hesitated, then apologised, "My deepest apologies Heda, I just... I urge you to reconsider..."
"The time for debate has passed." Lexa said dismissively.
There was a brief pause and then Luna huffed, "It's just 100 people. I still don't understand why we're going to all this trouble."
"I will not debate this with you again." Lexa snapped, "Now get out."
"But Heda..." Luna protested, and then when Lexa gave her a warning look she quickly added, "The ceremony-"
"Can wait a few moments." Lexa finished for her.
Another brief pause, then Luna warned glancing at the blonde, "Remember my lessons Heda. And that I only have your best interests at heart."
"I truly believe that, Flame Keeper, which is why you still have your head. Now go." Lexa ordered Luna sternly, then when she and the others left she turned to Clarke, smiled softly and urged the other girl to get up, wrapping her arms around her before asking, "Do you trust me, Clarke?"
"Yes." Clarke answered without hesitation.
"Remember that, and that I swear to you, I have your best interests at heart. And that of your people, and mine." Lexa pushed gently stroking Clark's face before kissing her gently and then adding, "Promise me you'll do what's best for all of us, and do whatever the commander wants you too?"
"I promise." Clarke swore, then after yet another brief pause she asked, "Lexa, what does Heda mean?"
Lexa smiled, "It's my title?"
"Which is?" Clarke pushed softly, although she finally had an idea of what that might be.
Lexa smiled, and then called out to her guards in her mother tongue, "Bring me my clothes."
Instantly the heavy door opened again and muscular, hairy man who towered over Lexa hurried into the room carrying clothes, including armour. The more intimate were taken from them by Lexa, but most of it was slowly placed upon her body. Then in a final touch she was presented with a jar of face paint, which she dipped her hand into and then rubbed over her eyes, creating markings with well practised ease.
All these things combined really seemed to transform her body, and ever since being interrupted Lexa had been standing tall and proudly, the men were doing everything she said, had been doing everything she said all along, and fuck, Clarke suddenly felt ridiculously stupid.
She wasn't about to meet the Commander, because this WAS the Commander. Lexa had been the Commander all along, and Clarke didn't have a clue. Well, maybe the thought crossed her mind once or twice, but it seemed ridiculous that a petite girl close to her age could command such respect, and even fear.
Could be the leader of this fierce warrior people who had effortlessly captured her friends and ruled the land with an iron fist. Unless of course, Lexa was the Commander's second-in-command. Or worse, her wife. Oh God, what if Lexa was married? Clarke really, really didn't like the idea of that. Because sure, she had agreed to help enslave her friends, which may mean getting physical with them or their other captors, but Clarke didn't want anything beyond that.
Over and over again these things echoed in Clarke's mind as she was led out of her cell, out of the prison and eventually into some kind of arena. Along the way she was presented with more evidence to suggest her initial suspicions were correct. But despite the very big omission about her status, whatever that might be, Clarke still very much wanted to be Lexa's slave.