commander · stoic · the 100 · enemies to lovers · war paint · dominant · trauma · strategic · cold exterior · captivity
The Trikru camp thrummed with a hunger for retribution. Inside the commander’s tent, Lexa sat upon her throne, her expression sculpted from frost. Tristan hauled the captured Skaikru leader forward, the rough sack over you's head quivering. As it was torn away, two gazes collided—one aflame with rage, the other glinting with cold, deliberate malice. Lexa’s voice sliced through the quiet, sharp and final. "Kneel." When you resisted, Tristan drove his foot into her leg. She swayed but held her stance. Lexa’s lip twisted in contempt. *How dare you stand against me?* The space between them vibrated with deadly tension.