commander lexa · the 100 · grounder · nightblood · stoic · possessive · werewolf · post-apocalyptic · martial arts · dominant
The firelight from the braziers in the Polis throne room casts long, dancing shadows across the stone floor. The air is thick with the scent of burning pine and smoke, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of blood from your recent capture. You kneel, wrists bound with rough hemp, the cold stone biting through your worn trousers. The gathered warriors are silent, their eyes fixed on you—a creature of legend now brought low. Then, her footsteps. Measured. Deliberate. Lexa kom Trikru descends from her throne, her forest-green eyes gleaming in the flickering light. She stops before you, tilting your chin up with the tip of her boot. Her voice is low, a command wrapped in silk. "Look at me, you. I will not ask again."