Heda, en Clarke kom Skaikru
The weeks that Clarke spent wandering in the forest after she walked away from Camp Jaha changed her. She became a muddy mix of Grounder and herself. She uncovered parts of her mind that had once been buried away, slowly realizing that the ways of the Grounders were the ways of all. They were ways of instinct, of self-protection, of survival. The hatred for Lexa that had coursed through her for days had begun to subside as she realized that the Commander's decision was nothing short of logical and understandable. After all, Clarke herself would have made the same one if the tables were turned. Lexa is not Lexa first she is Heda first. Her first, and her only promise, is to her people. It took Clarke days and nights of hunger and thirst and pain for her to realize where her own loyalties lie. With her people, just like Lexa's are with Lexa's people. That is why Clarke pulled the lever that killed the Mountain Men. That is why she understood Lexa's choice. She felt she had come to terms with her and Bellamy's actions at Mount Weather, but more importantly she felt she had come to terms with Lexa. The beautiful, ragged, green-eyed girl was the root of it all, ultimately. The root of the pain, that is.
After 17 long days, Clarke had looped back and found the familiar path, which would lead her to the gates of Camp Jaha. It was still dark and through the trees she could see the twinkling stars that glittered and lit the black sky. Remembering her misfortune of encountering the Camp after dark, with Anya, she decided to stay hidden in the woods until morning light. Like she had for many nights already, she lowered her body to rest on the hard ground. The weight she had lost, due to the malnutrition that could be expected of anyone wandering aimlessly in the forest, had revealed many bones of hers that had once been hidden beneath flesh. They ached now as they dug into the ground, and for the countless night in a row Clarke stared up at the trees, sleepless. When warm, orange sun began to peak through the canopy above her she stood, gathering the very few items she possessed, most of which were things that had been gathered during her time in the forest. It would not be a long walk to the gates, and she was eager to be home again- or at least to be somewhere that was as close to a 'home' as she believed she would ever get.
However, Clarke would not be 'home' for a while longer, because as she heard a motion in the brush surrounding her, she was not fast enough to react. Soon there were constraints, she felt rough, calloused hands grabbing at her and holding her down. A black sheath went over her head, and although she screamed it seemed she was still just a little too far from the Camp for it to matter at all. She could feel the rough hairs of a rope being tightened around her wrists, and then her ankles. Then she felt herself being lifted, then dropped, in a quite uncomfortable position, onto the back of a horse. Eventually she gave up on screaming, but kicking and thrashing she did not. No words were spoken, and she was unsure who had taken her captive. All she heard for several hours was the steady rhythm of horse hooves beating on the ground. Then the moving halted, and she felt herself lifted once again. Her feet were placed on the ground and the black covering was snatched off her head without warning. The light that flooded her eyes brought a momentary flash of pain and tears, like it had the day she landed in the drop ship. It took several moments for the blur to vanish but when it did she was faced with a sight she had not expected in the slightest.
"Clarke," came from her mouth like a strong, but warm gust of wind. Her warpaint was dark and thick, almost as piercing as her eyes. To either side of her stood warriors, behind her stood 3 more. Clarke felt that there were several more standing behind herself as well but she didn't turn to look. Her eyes were locked on the figure before her.
Clarke breathed in deeply before she attempted to speak. Her look hardened, and her muscles tightened. It was most definitely visible from the outside how she felt in that moment. She licked her lips and gave one stone cold glare, pointed directly at the eyes of her target, and spoke, "Lexa, I-", her deep, stiff, bark was interrupted.
"Clarke, I am aware that you are bitter. I broke our alliance; I betrayed you and your-", now it was Clarke's turn to interrupt. Lexa's mouth shut abruptly almost in fear, and her eyes softened and began to go glossy as Clexa shouted.
"I am not angry about the alliance!" Clarke shouted. She looked furious, like she was out to kill. Lexa's guards all reached for their weapons but the Commander raised a hand and they reverted back to their previous positions. "Lexa! I am angry that you had your warriors tie me up and blindfold me and take me to you so you could, what? So you could apologize? Are you kidding me? Just when I had finally started to forgive everything I had done, everything you had done that at Mount Weather, you do this? I understand that your people come first, and that is not a choice for you. That is your duty and it always will be. I was stupid to think that anything, anyone, could trump that. That's okay, I'm over it. But I am not your toy, you don't get to just pick me up and take me away when you want to make yourself heard!" Clarke closed her mouth and stared ahead with stone cold eyes, her nostrils flaring.
"Clarke," Lexa spoke calmly but her eyes were darting around in a nervous way. She turned to the warrior at her right, "Gon we, nau." He nodded and the other warriors, including the two behind Clarke, scattered away into the woods. She waited a few painstakingly silent moments before she turned her head back to face Clarke. She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, standing tall. "Clarke, I was foolish to bring you to me in such a way." She studied Clarke, fearing that her anger would cause her to interrupt, but Clarke stood stiffly and showed no signs of speaking. Lexa continued, "I had feared that after the night at Mount Weather you would be furious, maybe even out for revenge. But, it is not the revenge I truly feared, it is your hatred that brought me to worry. However, I see now, I was wrong. You are stronger than you think. Stronger than I thought you were, which is shameful of me. I apologize." She bows her head, avoiding latching her eyes onto the deep blue, angry eyes that bore into her like daggers.
Clarke took several steps towards Lexa, her stance not any softer, nor her glare. She stopped only a few small inches short of colliding with Lexa's body. She stood there, staring. Lexa's head did not rise, so Clarke reached up and pushed Lexa's chin upwards. Their eyes met and Clarke felt the pulse and the tremors pounding through Lexa as her touch filled her with both fear and passion. "Apology not accepted," she grumbled. She pivoted on her heels and began marching away, the task made difficult by the rope tying her ankles closer together than would allow for swift, quick movement. After only moments, she felt Lexa's hand on her shoulder. She stopped but refused to turn around. Tears were welling up in her eyes, Lexa's touch sending shocks through her body.
"Please, Clarke. None of this was meant to outrage you. I summoned you here because I needed your forgiveness. For weeks I have felt breathless. It is thoughts of you that leave me feeling crushed by the air. It feels heavy on my chest, more than I have grown accustomed to. It is hard being the Commander, I rarely admit so, but I will admit it to you. I have learned to cope. But the pain you bring to me is something I cannot bear, it is a weight too heavy. Clarke,"
Clarke turns slowly to face Lexa, whose hand falls from Clarke's shoulder. "I am sorry I have caused you pain, if it makes you feel any better you've done the same to me. So I'd say we're even."
Lexa's lips curl up on one side, forming, almost, a smile. Her eyes graze over Clarke, and she reaches her hands out and glides them down Clarke's arms until their hands touch. Lexa pulls Clarke's hands into her own and their fingers intertwine. Clarke's expression eases into something lighter, a smile appearing on the edges of her own lips. Clarke sighs gently, "Maybe we do deserve something more."
"Maybe we do," Lexa's eyes close as she speaks. "But this is not smart. How I feel is not safe, it is not in the best interest of anyone, much less of you and I. But, Clarke, if now you are ready to, as you say, 'be with someone', then I can forget my thoughts. I am willing to make a decision with my heart instead of my head." Her eyes flick open and are instantly met with a stare from Clarke. Lexa's eyes are not as bold and brave as Lexa is. Closer up, behind the warpaint they are the eyes of a child. They are fragile and scared and timid.
"I am ready. I am ready to be-" Clarke's words are silenced by the gentle touch of Lexa's lips on hers. Her mind flashed back to the kiss they shared in Lexa's tent before they went off to fight the Mountain Men. Lexa's tongue enters Clarke's mouth and Clarke attempts to move her hand up to Lexa's body but is held back by the rope. Lexa lets out a silent laugh and grabs a dagger from a loop on her thigh. She cuts the rope and as soon as she does, Clarke pulls Lexa back into the kiss, harder, as if making up for the lost moments. Making up for walking away from Lexa the first time they kissed. Making up for everything. For the first time since the drop ship landed, Clarke begins to feel free. The pain and the burden she had felt that had sent her into the woods began to lift from her chest. Her arms loop around Lexa's waist and she uses them so thrust Lexa closer to her. The kiss becomes desperate, as if they can't get close enough to each other. Lexa's hands grab at Clarke, and they both become almost ravenous. Clarke separates her lips from Lexa's, moving them down to her neck. Then she returns to Lexa's lips, kissing her even more deeply and lovingly. Then it is Lexa who breaks the kiss, her lips trailing down Clarke's neck and meeting her exposed chest. She sucks on the skin above Clarke's collarbone, fully intending to leave a mark that would be visible to all, as if to say "my Clarke". Then following the same trail she left, her lips meet Clarke's again. For what feels like ages, they go on. Clinging, and kissing, and groping, and releasing gentle sighs. When they finally pull apart they smile widely. Clarke reaches out for Lexa's hand and they walk back towards the horses. They both know that this is the beginning of the end, but they don't care.