Salt, Honey, and Blood

By Athena02

"Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies."- Aristotle

"Clarke. Clarke…wake up…"

Clarke's eyes opened slowly, a sleepy mumble escaping from her lips. The room was dark, but the pale light of the pre-dawn sky filtered in through the open windows, casting dark blue shadows on the furniture. She felt Lexa's hand on her shoulder gently shaking her. It had been a year since she'd first felt Lexa's touch on her bare skin, back when their love was new, but it was something she knew she would never tire of.

"Is something wrong?" Clarke asked, brows knitted in concern as she shifted in the bed, turning to face Lexa. Duty often called for Heda at all hours, but Clarke hadn't been aware of anything requiring her attention being announced the day before. A small knot of worry formed in the pit of her stomach. It had been months since the final defeat of both Haiplana Nia kom Azgeda and Pike kom Skaikru's rebellion against the Alliance, yet Clarke was not foolish enough to believe they would ever be completely out of danger.

Lexa's answering laugh was low and breathy and she pressed a soft kiss to the bare curve of Clarke's shoulder, quickly putting Clarke at ease. "No, niron. Nothing like that. There's just something I think you'd like to see."

"What is it?"

Lexa smiled again. Here, alone with Clarke in the low morning light, away from the eyes of her people and without the trappings of her station and duties, she looked nearly radiant. "It is better if you see it for yourself before I explain." Lexa paused briefly, a sign Clarke knew meant Lexa was gathering her courage to unveil a piece of her heart. "I wish for you to see this with new eyes."

They dressed quickly, and Clarke followed Lexa's lead out of their room and into the hallway. With a gesture, Lexa prevented the two guards stationed just outside the double doors to her chamber. "Nou get yu daun, gonas. Oso kamp raun hir."

The two women made their way down the hallways and stairwells of the tower, moving from the uppermost floors reserved for the Commander to the lower ones occupied by ambassadors, warriors, and deputies that helped lead and support the Kongeda. Clarke followed Lexa's lead as she stopped at the chosen floor, stepping quietly down the hallway. She stopped after a few steps, and Clarke stood beside her, looking around curiously.

Trikru warriors and handmaidens were scattered down the hallway, hiding in the recessed entrances to apartments. Initially Clarke feared an attack or some sort of disturbance, but none of the people held weapons. In fact, several were trying to hold back smiles, biting back on laughter. It reminded Clarke almost of children playing hide and seek, not wanting to be seen but also playfully watchful.

Halfway down the hallway, a Trikru warrior kneeled in front of one of the apartment doors, dressed in full armor and war paint. Clarke recognized him; though he was young, Kai was a member of Lexa's personal guard, and among the swiftest and most trusted scouts. He kneeled quietly, gaze focused on a small collection of objects laid out in front of him. Peering closely, Clarke could see a small cloth was laid on the floor a step in front of Kai. Atop that was a small wooden bowl of finely ground salt, and another bowl piled with forest blackberries. A strip of white cloth, about as wide and long as Clarke's forearm, was laid beside the bowls, and on the strip of cloth, Clarke could see a streak of bright red blood, like a slash of paint.

"What...?"

Lexa touched her elbow gently. "Quiet, Clarke. You'll see." The corner of Lexa's mouth twitched with amusement, the only crack in the firm mask she wore as Heda. "We are here to witness for him."

A thousand questions crowded Clarke's mind, but she trusted Lexa, and stayed silent. She could feel the gravity of the moment and the air of suspense.

They waited, standing side by side watching Kai in his vigil, for several minutes. Then, as the hallway began to brighten with the rising sun, the sound of a door opening echoed throughout the hall. The Grounders hiding stilled, and the feeling of anticipation in the air doubled. Kai did not move, except to tilt his head upwards, his gaze falling on the woman who stepped out of the apartment in front of him. His face was neutral as he looked at her, his eyes seeking hers. The woman, Takoma, was a hangada-one of Lexa's handmaidens; Clarke saw her most days in the upper levels of the tower, sorting, copying, and organizing the Commander's correspondence. Scouting reports, missives on the well-being of villages, treaties, and demands from ambassadors all were trusted in her care.

Takoma took several steps forward until she was standing in front of the kneeling warrior and his offerings. Her face was the same neutral mask at first, but Clarke could see the corners of her lips curve upward in a smile. She got the impression that the grounder stoicism was a display, and whatever was happening in this moment was dearly anticipated. The hangada stood for a moment, no longer than a breath or two, contemplating the scene before her. Then she sank down to her knees on the other side of the offerings, reaching for the strip of cloth. Looping the cloth around her forearm, she used her free hand to tie a knot in the fabric, securing it just below her elbow. The task complete, she looked up at the warrior's face, and a smile burst forth on her face like the sun breaking over the treetops.

"Sha, Kai. Ai sonraun laik yu sonraun."

At her words, the warrior's placid expression broke, and his joyful smile matched hers. It was, Clarke thought, almost strange to see a warrior in armor and warpaint smiling with love in his eyes. Their movements mirrored each other's as each took a pinch of salt, and then a berry, placing it reverently on their chosen's lips. Finally, his hands reached to hers, drawing her close until they were leaning into a brief kiss. The moment they touched, the hallway erupted into loud shouts, elated Trikru cheering, clapping, and stomping their feet. When Kai stole another kiss, more than a few of his fellow warriors offered up a good-natured whistle.

Next to Clarke, Lexa smiled. Seeing a moment of happiness shared between her people is something Clarke knows she treasures. Setting her shoulders, and with a slight nod to Clarke, Lexa stepped forward to the couple, who rose as she approached. She held up a hand gently, and the exuberant cheering died down. When she spoke, her voice carried with it the full weight and finality of her command as Heda.

"Ai don sin in osun keryon ste teina. Non mou gon op."

The couple nodded their heads in a grateful bow as another wave of cheering erupted at her proclamation, and despite the seriousness of her duty, another smile crossed Lexa's face. The crowd quieted again when she prepared to speak, switching to Gonasleng for Clarke's benefit.

"You both have served this tower, your kru, and your Commander with honor and dedication. I offer you my blessing and sincere wish for a happy life together. There is a home in the North Quarter set aside for you, should you wish to take it." Clarke knows that part of Polis; close enough to the markets and river to be convenient and beautiful, but not too close to be noisy or crowded. It is a fine and generous gift for the new couple.

For a moment they both looked stunned, and then Kai replied quickly. "Mochof, Heda. You honor us."

Lexa simply smiled, and with an approving nod she turned, returning back to Clarke. "Walk with me? I need to find Indra."

The gathered Trikru rushed to congratulate Kai and Takoma as the two leaders took their leave, moving back into the stairwell and making their way to the ground floor of the tower and outside of the building. A trio of guards shadowed the pair from several paces behind as they made a beeline for the training grounds on the outskirts of the city.

"He asked her to marry him," Clarke stated, more of an observation than a question. Lexa had been right…seeing it unfold, without commentary or bias, meant she saw a side of the Trikru that was incredibly nuanced.

"Sha," Lexa replied. Her gaze flickered to Clarke's and back as they walked. "They are bonded now. As one."

Clarke paused a moment to think. "That was a pretty brief ceremony."

Lexa could not hide her bemused grin, her words taking the same tone as when she instructs Natblida. "Our ways are direct, Clarke. Life can be short. Besides," her tone lightened, "it is rare for a niron's offering to be rejected. An offering is not necessarily needed to join two people who have chosen one another, but is a sign of great respect."

"What were those offerings? What did they mean?"

Lexa seemed pleased that Clarke noticed the symbolism. "Salt, to represent sharing the sadness, hardship, and heavy burdens of life. The fruit, to represent sharing the happiness and sweetness life offers, and the cause of joy between each other. And blood, a promise to protect another from any danger, as well as pledging one's life and love to another, ending only in death." Lexa paused briefly as the training grounds appeared within view through the trees. "Kai brought Takoma sea salt from Floukru. Other warriors bring sugarcane from Yujleda. These are all rare things, and the mark of a skilled niron. When I was young, I saw a niron-one of the best gonas of his kru- give his chosen honey from the border regions; that is one of the rarest gifts of all, and dangerous to acquire."

"That….is surprisingly romantic," Clarke admitted.

"It is as I said. Polis will change the way you think about us," Lexa replied.

xXxXxX

Lexa spent the next two days with Indra, planning a journey to some of the outlying Trikru villages furthest from Polis. It had been too long since Lexa had been able to visit her people there, and there were several empty spots among her personal guard and handmaidens that needed to be filled. A few week's journey would allow her people to see their Heda, settle disputes or seek advice, and allow Lexa and Indra to find promising warriors or women to train as hangada.

They traveled light, and made excellent time on the roads between villages. Heda Lexa's arrival in each village was accompanied with much ceremony and celebration, lasting late into the night nearly each time. The Each visit began with a formal welcoming ceremony by the village leader, and Heda's thanks for their hospitality. Customary pledges of loyalty were exchanged, and in every instance Lexa offered a gift; often supplies to be sent from Polis, but sometimes promises to send a traveling healer, or a teacher for the goufas, or anything else that might ease the path for her people. At the conclusion of the ceremony, Lexa met individually with the young women or girls present who showed promise and the desire to become one of her handmaidens.

As Lexa had explained to her when they first set out from Polis, Clarke understood that being one of the Commander's hangada was a position of great honor. Most were orphans or young widows, cared for by surviving kin or, if none remained, the clan leader. Once chosen, they would be wards of the Commander. Far from being purely a domestic servant, the hangada were women groomed for leadership or diplomacy. Through lessons and direct observation from the Commander, they were schooled in negotiating, strategy, and even espionage, and often became clan leaders or ambassadors among their people once they left Heda's service.

Those eligible candidates Heda brought before her were tested, confronted with hypothetical scenarios to gauge their ability to think and plan. Lexa spoke to them occasionally in Gonasleng, critically examining their knowledge and ability to adapt. The Commander examined each with a critical eye, as if she alone could see within them the type of person they could become. While not wholly unnerving, the intensity of Lexa's gaze in these examinations made Clarke wonder-not for the first time-if the Spirit of the Commander spoke to Lexa outside of her dreams, seeing something in each candidate. Those Lexa selected beamed with pride, swearing their oath of service to the Commander. Some were not chosen as hangada, but referred to Indra as best suited for scouting or training as warriors. None were slighted; Lexa seemed a good judge of talent.

Next, everyone in the village-including people from outlying areas who had traveled to the village for the occasion-gathered around the village's training ring. The entire gathering took on a festive air of spirited competition as the warriors demonstrated their skills. Heda and her companions watched from places of honor as gonas sparred and wrestled. Local grudges were settled, and more than one brash young warrior issued a good-natured challenge to a member of Lexa's personal guard. Without fail, all of them ended up disarmed or pinned to the dirt of the training ring by her bodyguard, but it was certainly not for lack of effort on the part of the local warriors. One challenger, Hawthorne, had shown enormous skill with a staff, nearly upending the member of Heda's guard that he faced. Heda had stepped down from the observation platform after the fight to speak with him briefly, ending on a question. When he immediately knelt to swear his loyalty as a member of her personal bodyguard, the assembled crowd cheered.

The festive feel of Heda's visit to each village only intensified once the sun sank below the trees. No matter how small the village, there was an enormous feast. And once the barrels of fayawada were opened… After the first three villages, Clarke learned that even though she could hold her own in drinking games with grown Trikru warriors, it wasn't always the best idea when faced with a long day in the saddle the next morning. Though she had not necessarily minded the way Lexa had half-walked, half-carried her to their tent one particularly raucous night. Nor the way Lexa had whimpered into the searing kisses they had shared as Clarke helped her shed her clothes, tattooed skin burning with desire under the path Clarke's hungry fingertips had traced down her body…

Though she shouldn't have been, Clarke was surprised to see that the Trikru's warm welcome extended to her as well. Her counsel was valued and she was clearly treated as a respected leader among the Thirteen Clans, but there was an acknowledgement that she was something more than just Wanheda, ambassador and advisor to their Heda. In Polis, while Clarke and Lexa had made no great secret of their relationship, neither were they very open about the matter. Certainly all of those living in the tower-and by extension all of Polis-knew they cherished each other. The Grounders required no explanation or announcement; it was clear that Lexa had chosen Clarke, and such matters required no explanation, especially from Heda. Several of those closest to Clarke in Arkadia knew; Lincoln, Octavia, and Raven had practically fought over who had "called it" first, much to Clarke's chagrin. But mostly, Clarke and Lexa had felt no desire for any public displays. They knew of the love within each other's hearts, and felt the call and response of one soul to its mate. In this unbreakable love, they found infinite happiness. And that alone was more than enough.

xXxXxX

They laid together in the furs of the large pallet in Lexa's campaign tent on the final evening of their visit to the last village. In the pleasant weather of late spring, they'd rolled the bottom edges of the tent up a foot from the ground, inviting in the cool breeze. Lexa's arms wrapped around Clarke, her stomach pressed against her Skayon's back. Their fingers tangled idly under the blanket of white wolf skin, and Lexa pressed an occasional kiss to the back of her lover's shoulders.

"I can hear you thinking," Clarke said softly.

"There is an area not too far from here that I wish to investigate," Lexa answered, "No more than a week before I join you back in Polis."

Pressed skin to skin, Lexa could feel Clarke's muscles tense. "Wait, you're going without me?"

"Sha, niron. I need you to lead the new gonas and hangada to Polis and see them settled there." she sealed another kiss to the soft curve of Clarke's shoulder. "This is one thing I must do alone." Her tone was gentle, but begged for the other woman's understanding.

Clarke sighed, turning to face Lexa, blue eyes meeting green. "Fine. But promise me you'll take your personal guard. I trust you, Lexa, but come home to me."

Lexa nodded in steadfast assurance, and any words she wanted to say were swallowed up by Clarke's reverent kisses.

They parted in the morning with a final kiss before leaving the tent, mounting up and heading out in opposite directions. Their people trailed behind them as they each continued down their individual paths. Back and shoulders straightened, and with firm words Heda and Wanheda each refused to look back, giving in to the promise of being reunited in a week, rather than the ever-present fear of what would happen if they did not.

xXxXxXxXx

The first two days without Lexa passed quickly as Clarke was caught up in a whirlwind of tasks. The new guards were quickly taken under Indra's tutelage, and the hangadas were assigned duties and lessons with seasoned counterparts. Clarke chose to instruct the Natblidas and newest hangadas in their Gonasleng lessons, which ate up several hours of the day. She worked into the night, working on Skaikru trade agreements and throwing herself into her ambassadorial duties. It was deep into the evening hours when she finally fell into the bed she shared with Lexa, but despite her exhaustion she could not sleep. The bed seemed too quiet, the room too empty.

Though their duties sometimes demanded separation, Clarke had rarely been parted from Lexa for an extended period, even during the darkest days and battles of the rebellion. After a traitorous assassin's bullet had nearly taken Lexa's life and Clarke had fought to ensure her recovery, she had refused to spend nights apart from her niron unless duty absolutely demanded it. She did not care if others judged her weak or even childish for holding tight to the one she loved after so nearly losing her.

Clarke awoke before dawn on the seventh day. Threads of anticipation and worry tangled in a complicated knot around her heart, but she pushed them away, focusing on Lexa's confidence that she would return today. Again, Clarke refused to think of the alternative. She had confronted that darkness once before, and if by sheer force of will and audacity of hope she could hold it at bay, then so be it.

She groaned, and scrubbed at her eyes with her fists. Throwing the furs aside, she rose from the bed and crossed the room to the small basin of water resting on a table near the wall. She scooped up water in her hands, splashing it against her face to chase away the vestiges of sleep and worry. She dressed, focusing on the Natblidas' Gonasleng lesson she'd planned for today to distract her from the darker thoughts. She felt more focused as she finished, and crossed the room to the door, taking a breath and squaring her shoulders as she opened the door, stepping outside into the hallway.

And promptly froze, staring at the sight in front of her.

Lexa knelt before her in quiet repose, as still as a statue.

Her lover managed to be both serene and fiercely glorious at the same time. Lexa's dark coat pooled behind her and the crimson slash of her sash trailed from the shoulder guard to curve around her knees. A pair of swords crossed in their sheathes at her back, the metal inlay on the grips glinting in the pale light of rising sun. Her braids framed her face, which was boldly streaked with warpaint. This was not the jagged tearstain pattern that Lexa wore to battle, but instead the narrow black band she wore in peacetime, the kohl highlighting the depth of swirling emotion in her eyes.

Neatly arrayed on a cloth in front of her was an offering, a promise, a commitment.

A small bowl of finely ground sea salt, shimmering slightly pink. An acknowledgement that the path they had traveled was, and would always be, subject to hardship and danger, punctuated by tears and obstacles. But that they would never again have to face them alone.

A small jar of golden honey, glowing amber in the growing daylight. Wonderfully sweet, beyond rare, beyond precious, and incredibly difficult to capture in this broken world…just like the happiness they had found together, against all odds. A promise of the joy and love they would create together.

A small strip of cloth, as white as snow, smeared with a slash of blood, black as night. A promise to protect. A promise to not only survive, but to live. A promise to love, until they breathed their last and began their final journey to The Far Shore, together.

At Clarke's sudden inhale of surprise, Lexa looked up from where her gaze had been fixed on her hands folded in her lap, her eyes-as dark as a pine forest in winter-seeking Clarke's. When she spoke, her voice was steady and confident, but softened by the gentleness of her love.

"I swear fealty to you, Clarke kom Skaikru. I vow to treat your needs as my own and your people as my people. I vow to you my blade, my honor, and my love, should you accept them."

Lexa's eyes searched Clarke's as the final words left her lips, overflowing with earnest hope and steadfast devotion.

Though Clarke could feel a hundred pair of eyes watching from the reaches of the hallway, her entire world was consumed with Lexa. Elation rose up within her heart, washing over her completely. Without hesitation she sank to her knees across from Lexa, her fingers closing around the strip of white cloth and tying it carefully around her forearm.

The second Clarke's fingers closed over the cloth, a smile broke over Lexa's face, pure and inescapable bliss only adding to her blinding beauty. Clarke could feel an echoing smile on her own face. It was almost too much happiness for her to hold, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Laughter bubbled up from within her as she mirrored Lexa's movements, and together they tasted salt, and sweetness, and love.

The wave of emotion crashed over them both, propelling them into each other's arms. As their lips met in a joyful kiss, it sounded as if all of Polis was shouting in happiness around them, though the sight barely registered for Clarke. She only had eyes for Lexa. Her houmon.

Translations:

Haiplana: Queen

Niron: Loved one, lover

"Nou get yu daun, gonas. Oso kamp raun hir.": "Don't worry, guards. We're staying close."

Gona: Warrior, Guard

Kongeda: Alliance

Hangada: Handmaiden

"Sha, Kai. Ai sonraun laik yu sonraun.": "Yes, Kai. My life is your life."

"Ai don sin in osun keryon ste teina. Non mou gon op.": "I witness [that] your souls are together. (no one may fight/argue this)."

"Mochof, Heda…": "Thank you, Commander…"

Natblida: Nightbloods

Floukru: Boat People

Yujleda: Broadleaf Clan

Goufas: Children

Skayon: Sky-person

Houmon: Spouse, partner