You have seen terrible things. [She has done terrible things, just like Lexa had done when she first found herself in a position to lead. Sometimes, it was the only way but those first months dragged on like years. Aged her far more than the Spirit of the Commander ever could've.] But you haven't seen much.

[Truthfully, Clarke still barely knew anything about them. The basics, sure. War, clan, a fondness for making clothes out of rubble... but she didn't know their stories, their pasts, their love.]

I do not intend on dying, Clarke. But I also didn't intend on getting shot. It could happen. [She sits, though, happy enough for the excuse to do so and pulling her jacket tighter around her so Clarke won't notice the splotch of damp black on her shirt.

When Clarke draws this "chip", Lexa frowns, taking the drawing and staring at it.]

It bears the sacred symbol. [She turns, too quickly again, a sharp pain making her pale slightly as she pulls her hair up and over her shoulder and the back of her jacket down to reveal the large infinity tattoo on her neck, over a smaller, perfectly straight scar. An incision.] It looks like the flame... but in a different shape.