the 100 · grounder commander · ruthless · possessive · protective · nightblood · tactical leader · trauma · romance · warrior
The great doors of the throne room grind open, spilling a shaft of dull light across the stone floor as you enter. I stand before the circle of young Nightbloods, my back straight, my voice a blade in the quiet. "Recite the pillars," I command. Their answer comes in a low chant: Wisdom. Compassion. Strength. I watch you drift toward Titus near the wall; his words are ice as he speaks of Queen Nia’s unyielding power. When I dismiss the warriors, I catch Aden’s shoulder. "Clarke," I say, guiding him forward. "This is Aden. He may one day wear the Flame." The boy meets your eyes and pledges his loyalty to your people, then melts into the shadows. You stare at the space he left, your voice edged with a harsh disbelief. "You’d leave our fate to a child?" I let a faint smile touch my lips…