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Lexa ran.
She didn't jog, she didn't retreat, she ran. A full panicked sprint, her twin blades still dangling in her hands. She burst from the sparring area, her face a shade of red that Trikru healers associated with high fever, and tore through the center of Tonas.
The daily life of the village, the skinners scraping hides, the smiths hammering metal, the children in their chaotic games, came to a halt. In the two months since the "Man from the Tomb" had arrived, they had seen many strange things. But they had never seen this.
They had never seen Lexa, their stoic, deadly, and ever-composed Second, running like a startled deer, blushing so hard it was visible from a mile away.
Indra and Nyko, standing near the central firepit, were in the middle of a discussion.
Indra, her hand frozen on the hilt of her sword, simply raised an eyebrow.
"What in the name of the First Commander was that?"
Nyko, a broad-shouldered warrior with a healer's steady hands and a dry wit, didn't answer immediately. He just laughed.
"Well," he said, "I think our future Heda has finally gone and done it."
"Done what?" Indra grunted, turning to follow Lexa's path. "Lost her mind?"
"Look," Nyko said, pointing.
Indra's gaze followed his finger back toward the sparring clearing. There, standing alone in the center of the sunlit patch of dirt, was Mike. He was frozen, his mouth slightly open, his hand raised to his scarred cheek. He looked like a statue.
Nyko chuckled again. "I think she finally confessed."
Indra stared. And then, a sound that was even rarer than a blushing Lexa, she laughed. It was a short, harsh, barking laugh, full of genuine amusement. "That," she said, nodding at Mike's catatonic state, "is not an expression I ever thought I would see on that man's face."
She crossed her arms, her amusement fading into a more thoughtful, content expression. "It's been a long time since Costia," she said, her voice quiet. "It is good. She deserves to find someone."
"He's good for her," Nyko agreed. "He's good for us."
Indra nodded. It was true. The last two months had changed everything.
The "Man from the Tomb" or "Mikky," as the children had now gleefully adopted, was no longer just an "asset." He was, to Indra's profound surprise, a part of their village.
After his first two weeks of being a cold, terrifying, and isolated weapon, something in him had... broken. Or, rather, opened. It had all started, strangely, with Lexa. The moment she had stopped trying to kill him and started training with him, the entire village's perception had shifted.
And Mike, as it turned out, was more than just a killing machine.
Indra remembered the day, three weeks ago, when the main support beam for the watchtower had split after a storm. Their best engineers had been struggling, arguing that it needed to be completely rebuilt. Mike had just... walked up, studied it for a minute, and then, using a series of ropes, levers, and a small, carved wedge of wood, had reset the entire beam himself, making it stronger than it was before. He had explained the "basic physics" of force distribution in a way that left their builders speechless.
Nyko, for his part, would never forget the "Water Sickness." A batch of juba juice had gone bad, and a dozen children were suffering from horrific dysentery. Nyko was preparing the standard, somber rites, as most would not survive the dehydration. Mike had stormed into the healer's tent, seen the problem, and disappeared into his own. He'd returned with a bag of white powder from his bunker's supplies.
"Electrolyte-replenishment mix," he'd called it. He'd mixed it with boiled, purified water and, with a gentleness that shocked everyone, had force-fed it to the sick children. Within twelve hours, all of them were sitting up, and within a day, they were fine.
He had become the village's secret weapon and its biggest, goofiest resident. He trained the new recruits until they dropped, then shared his private, delicious rations from his bag with them. He played "Raider and Scout" with the children, who now swarmed him, climbing his massive frame like he was a moving tree. He had even, to Indra's eternal (and private) delight, started a joking rivalry with her, teasing her about her "permanent scowl."
He had, in two short months, become the most beloved, most feared, and most essential part of Trikru.
"Yes," Indra said again, her voice soft. "She deserves him. And... I suppose... he deserves her."
Nyko just smiled, watching the utterly braindead supersoldier finally, reboot and start the long, confused walk back to his tent.
*****************************************************
The hide flap of the command tent was ripped open, and Lexa stumbled in, her face still on fire.
"Anya!" she gasped, her voice high and panicked.
Anya was sitting at her low table, a piece of charcoal in her hand, pretending to study a map of the Azgeda border. In truth, she had been staring at the same spot for an hour, her mind a turbulent, gray storm.
She had spent the last two months in a state of confusing happiness. She had, like the rest of her village, come to depend on Mike. But for her, it was... different.
Lexa, Indra, Nyko... they saw the warrior, the engineer, the friend.
Anya saw the man. She saw the one who sat with her late at night, after Lexa had gone to bed, after the village was asleep, and just... talked. He was the only person alive who didn't fear her; he didn't push her away.
He just... saw her.
He brought her strange, delicious, foil-wrapped "protein bars" from his bag. He argued with her about patrol routes. He told her "silly jokes," as he called them, ancient, nonsensical stories that made her, to her own shock, laugh. A real, deep, belly-laugh, a sound she hadn't made since before she was a chief.
She remembered, with a clarity that ached, the patrol last week. They'd been tracking Azgeda scouts, a high-stakes, high-stress mission. But as they'd moved through the forest, a strange feeling had settled over her.
Relaxation.
For the first time in twenty years, she wasn't the one scanning the treetops. She wasn't the one listening for every snapped twig. He was. He moved like a shadow, his golden eyes seeing everything, his senses a perimeter of steel around them. She had found herself, instead, just... watching the light in the trees. Listening to the birds. She had, for a few hours, stopped being the Heda of Trikru.
She had just been Anya. A normal woman, walking in the woods with a man who made her feel, in a way she couldn't describe, utterly and completely safe.
And before she knew it, before she could even build her walls against it, she was in love. She loved his goofy smiles. She loved his tactical brilliance. She loved his infuriating, gentle care.
And, of course, that dumbass had never, not for one second, noticed it.
But reality, as she always knew, was brutal. For the past few weeks, she had seen it. The way Lexa looked at him. The way he looked at her. The shared dinners. The silly, private nicknames. Mikky. Lexi.
And so, Anya had done what a Chief does. She had taken her own heart, her own impossible, ridiculous hope, and she had begun the process of burying it. Lexa needed this. Lexa, who had lost Costia, who had been hollowed out by grief, deserved this happiness.
She, Anya, was a leader. She was strong. She had been alone her whole life. She could keep living like that. It was her duty.
Her heart clenched as she saw the state of her Second. She put on her best "Chief" mask, though a small, sad smile broke through it.
"So," Anya said, her voice betraying nothing. "It finally happened.
"
"I KISSED HIM!" Lexa burst out, pacing the tent like a caged animal. "Anya, I just... I did it! I kissed him! On the cheek! And then I ran! He's going to think I'm a weirdo! He's going to... he's going to hate me! What do I do?! What if he doesn't-"
"Lexa," Anya said, her voice gentle, but with that edge of profound, deep sadness she couldn't quite hide. "He will not hate you. You both will be okay."
Lexa stopped her frantic pacing. The panic in her eyes faded, replaced by the sharp, perceptive gaze of a born leader. Her panic was gone, her training taking over. She had heard the words, but she had felt the truth.
"Anya," Lexa said, her voice now quiet, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Anya said, turning back to her map. "You are flustered. Go, find him. Talk to him."
"No." Lexa stepped forward, her hands clenched. "You're... you're sad. I can hear it. Tell me what is happening with you."
"I am fine, Lexa," Anya said, her voice now hard. "This is not the time for-"
"Tell me!" Lexa's voice was a command, not a request.
"I said I am FINE!" Anya roared, standing so fast her chair clattered to the ground.
And then, to the shock of both of them, the dam broke.
The Iron Heda of Trikru, the unbending warrior who had never cried, not when her parents died, not when her first warrior fell, cried. Tears she didn't even know were there streamed down her scarred cheeks, hot and angry.
"You fool," she wept, her voice breaking. "You absolute... fool. I love him, too."
Lexa froze, her entire world tilting on its axis.
"I... I love him," Anya choked out, the confession tearing her apart. "And I saw you. I saw how you looked at him. And I was... I was prepared to bury it. To... to let him go. Because you deserve him, Lexa! After Costia... you deserve to be happy! I am the Chief! I am... I am supposed to look after my people, not... not want things!"
She collapsed back into her chair, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. "I can be alone. I am... I am used to it..."
Lexa was speechless for a full minute. She looked at the woman who had been her sister, her mentor, her rock, completely shattered. And in that moment, Lexa's own panic, her own girlish crush, seemed so... small.
She stepped forward and, not knowing what else to do, dropped to her knees and hugged Anya's thigh, her cheek pressing into the hard, worn leather.
"I'm sorry," Lexa whispered, her own tears now flowing. "Anya, I'm so sorry. I was... I was being a brat, so wrapped up in my own head I couldn't see you."
She looked up, her green eyes fierce and clear. "You deserve happiness, Anya. You deserve every bit of it. More than anyone."
Anya just sobbed, shaking her head. "But, Lexa... you..."
"So," Lexa said, a strange, new, powerful idea dawning on her. "Let's both of us be with him."
Anya's sobs hitched. She pulled her head up, her eyes wide and red.
"What?"
"Why not?" Lexa said, her mind now working, fitting the pieces together. "He's... Mikky. He's... a lot. He's enough for two, isn't he?"
"Lexa... the customs..." Anya whispered, her mind reeling.
"The customs allow it," Lexa countered, her voice gaining strength.
"Having more than one partner is common, is it not? A warrior's right."
"It is," Anya said, her voice hollow. "But you know the rule. For a man to take two partners... there is a fight. A test. The partners must prove he is strong enough to protect and provide for them. He must fight... he must fight us."
The thought of it, of being with Mike, of sharing him with Anya... it felt too good. It felt... right. It was a dream. But the fight...
Anya looked at Lexa. "Are you sure? Lexa, you don't have to do this. I will not-"
"But I want to," Lexa said, her grip tightening. "I want to see you smile, Anya. I want to see you happy. Truly."
"But... the fight," Anya whispered, the last, desperate hurdle.
Lexa just stared at her. Then, a slow, disbelieving smile spread across her tear-stained face.
"Anya," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You really think... you and I... are beating that... that monster?"
Anya froze.
Her mind replayed the Azgeda scouts. The thrown knives. The sparring matches. The absurdity of the situation. The rule was a technicality. A test.
Anya stared at Lexa. And then she smacked herself, hard, on the forehead.
"Gods," Anya breathed. "Who was I even worrying about?"
Anya giggled. It started as a choked sob, but it turned into a giggle. And Lexa started giggling, too. And then the two most powerful warriors in Trikru were on the floor of the command tent, a heap of leather and blades, crying and laughing with pure, hysterical relief.
Finally, Anya pulled herself together, wiping her eyes. She pulled Lexa to her feet.
"Then it's settled," Anya said, her voice thick, but strong again.
"It's settled," Lexa agreed, her face a bright, beaming smile.
Anya gave her a final, fierce hug. "Now," she said, smoothing her clothes and re-braiding a loose strand of hair. "Let's go find the Idiot who made the strongest warriors of Trikru fall for him."
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