The summit chamber was quiet—too quiet.
Set in the neutral zone between Tondc and Arkadia, the ancient stone temple had been cleared and repurposed. No weapons inside. No guards beyond the outer threshold. Just words.
And yet, every step Kira took echoed like footsteps in a tomb.
The long table was already partially occupied. Marcus Kane stood at the head of the Arkadia delegation, ever the diplomat. Abby sat beside him, her fingers nervously laced. Bellamy Blake flanked them—arms crossed, expression unreadable.
And then—
Clarke.
Her back was to the door, golden hair braided down the middle, familiar jacket worn like armor. Kira stopped cold in the doorway, her stomach twisting.
Lexa noticed. She stood beside Kira, her expression as unreadable as stone.
"She came," Lexa said softly.
"She always does," Kira replied.
Clarke turned then.
And her eyes landed on Lexa first.
Then flicked to Kira.
And stayed there.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Lexa stepped forward. "Heda Lexa, Commander of the Twelve Clans, welcomes you to the table of peace."
Kane stood. "And we thank you, Commander, for extending the invitation."
Formalities. Ceremonial lies dressed as civility.
Clarke hadn't moved.
Lexa tilted her head. "Clarke kom Skaikru."
Finally, Clarke blinked. "Commander."
Her voice was even. Too even.
Kira's jaw tensed.
Abby's gaze moved to her. "And… you're Kira."
Kira offered a short nod. "I am."
"I heard what you did in Polis. With Nia. With the Trikru."
"You heard what you were meant to hear," Kira said coolly. "Truth is always more complicated."
Clarke stepped forward. "Then tell me the truth."
Kira met her gaze. "I didn't come here to answer to you."
The tension cracked.
Lexa stepped between them. "Enough. We are here for one reason—to avoid bloodshed."
Bellamy scoffed. "Funny, coming from the woman who sent an army to the gates of Arkadia last year."
"She came this time with allies, not soldiers," Kira said. "You should see the difference."
Bellamy glared at her. "Who the hell are you, exactly?"
Kira smiled thinly. "Just someone who knows what happens when we fail."
His eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a warning," Clarke said suddenly, surprising everyone.
All eyes turned to her.
Clarke exhaled. "She's not wrong. If we don't do this—if we let old grudges decide the future—we lose everything."
Kira's gaze softened. There she was. The Clarke Griffin she remembered.
"Then let's begin," Lexa said.
The discussions stretched into hours.
Trade routes. Prisoners. Boundaries.
Everything was a negotiation, every word a potential trigger.
Kira watched carefully, noting which council members flinched, which avoided eye contact, and which ones were too quiet. Titus sat just outside the chamber, monitoring. But Kira trusted her own instincts more.
During a break, Clarke approached her alone near one of the open windows.
The silence was thick between them.
"You're not from around here," Clarke said finally.
Kira smirked. "Not exactly."
"You know things. About us. About her."
Kira turned. "I know enough to be dangerous."
Clarke studied her. "Do you love her?"
Kira paused. "What does it matter?"
"It matters to me."
There was no jealousy in her tone—just pain. Raw and buried, but still real.
Kira sighed. "Lexa loved you. That won't change. But she's not holding on to it like a lifeline anymore."
Clarke looked down. "And you?"
Kira hesitated. "I didn't come here looking for this. But it found me anyway."
Clarke nodded, as if that was the only answer she'd accept.
"She deserves peace," Clarke whispered.
"She deserves more than that," Kira replied. "And she'll get it—if this alliance holds."
A heavy pause.
"I don't trust you," Clarke said. "Not yet."
"I wouldn't trust me either," Kira said honestly. "But I'm not your enemy."
Clarke looked at her—truly looked—and for the first time, something passed between them that wasn't anger or suspicion.
Understanding.
That night, the storm broke again.
Rain battered the summit grounds, and warriors scrambled to secure tents and guard posts. Lightning carved the sky into jagged scars.
Kira stood near a fire inside the temple, watching the flames dance. Lexa joined her quietly, hair damp, cloak trailing droplets.
"She asked if I loved you," Kira said.
Lexa didn't answer immediately.
"And what did you say?" she asked eventually.
Kira's voice was soft. "I told her I didn't come here looking for this."
Lexa nodded.
"Do you regret it?" Kira asked.
Lexa turned to her. "No."
The answer was simple. Final.
"I should've said more," Kira admitted.
"Say it now," Lexa said.
Kira hesitated only a moment. "I'm falling for you. That terrifies me more than war."
Lexa's eyes softened, and she stepped closer, their faces only inches apart.
"Good," she whispered. "Because I don't want to do this alone."
Then, she kissed her.
Not with desperation—but with the weight of everything they'd survived.
Kira kissed her back.
The storm outside howled like a warning, but inside that moment, they found a silence that tasted like hope.
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