At the sight of the gun in Titus’s hands, the warm afterglow of satisfying sex turned to ice in Clarke’s veins. She instinctively lifted her hands. It was deeply instilled in her that that was what she should do when she was on the business end of a gun. That was how she could stop him from shooting. If such rules weren’t exclusively Skaikru’s; she wasn’t sure anymore. “Titus? What is this about?” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. Moments ago she had been in elation, in Lexa’s bed, Lexa’s lips on hers… that was like a dream, and it was over.
“I’m sorry it had to come to this, Clarke,” Titus said in response to her question. His voice was devoid of emotion and it sent chills down Clarke’s spine. “Truly I am."
“I’m leaving.” She was grasping frantically at straws, she knew. At anything to stop Titus from shooting her, not when she had so much to live for. “Right now,” she added for emphasis. “Octavia’s waiting for me. Just let me take Murphy” – she briefly met the gaze of the boy bound and gagged in her room – “and we’ll go."
“I wish I could.” For a moment Clarke thought there was a hint of remorse in Titus’s voice. But then he lifted the gun and pointed it at her head, and Clarke’s hopes sank. “But Lexa will never execute her duty while you live.” It was true, she knew that, Lexa had already put her people, the peace she had fought so long for, at stake for the sake of Skaikru. And she knew that she couldn’t fault Titus for resorting to this measure to protect his people, not when she might have done the same were she in his place.
But she was damned if she would just stand there and let him shoot her, so she made a last, desperate bid. To Titus’s loyalty and his respect for Lexa. “Hey, Titus, think – she’s gonna know it was you."
“She’ll think it was him,” Titus said, gesturing to Murphy, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty. “Skaikru weapon in the hands of a Skaikru thief.” He handled the gun awkwardly, an alien object in hands used to spears and daggers. “She might even be angry enough to declare war!” Titus squeezed down on the trigger of the gun, his hand shaking with emotion. Clarke dived to one side but his aim was off, clearly unfamiliar with the Skaikru weapon, and the bullet clanged off the metal screen behind her. He fired again, and if Clarke hadn’t ducked in time it would have been her skull instead of the clay jar behind her that shattered. Blood was rushing in Clarke’s ears, beating like a war-drum. She grabbed whatever she could reach, a chair, and flung it at Titus, stopping him for a moment and in that moment she could get away, could run to the door and –
Lexa walked into the room just as the next shot rang out. Clarke stopped. Stumbled. And collapsed into Lexa’s arms.