A/N: So this was supposed to be a one-shot of Lexa getting a little jealous, but I got sidetracked and it turned into a full-blown canon story. I considered cutting it back a little – but can there ever be enough Clexa fiction?
Exactly.
Hope you enjoy. (Thanks to silverlightdragon for coming up with this story idea!)
Lexa's face was hard and unforgiving, the same expression all of her people had come to know: the one that made farmers settle for less land than they had asked for, the one that made young boys and girls stumble over their words, the one that made Roan try not to shift in self-consciousness as he stood before her.
"Fine. With Nia dead, the Ice crown falls upon you. As much as I would like to believe that upon your return home you will do as we have agreed upon, I cannot take that risk." Lexa's eyes left Roan to glance at Clarke. Fiery-eyed, beautiful Clarke whose low cut dress had threatened to distract Lexa a little too often tonight. A dozen objections ran through Lexa's mind but before she could stop herself the plan had been formed. "Clarke and I will escort you ourselves."
"That's really not nec-"
"It is decided," Lexa interrupted Roan with a raise of her hand, leaving no room for discussion and no room for Clarke's objections which, by the look on her face, were burning on her tongue. "We will leave tomorrow morning. I'll see you at sunrise, King kom Azgeda."
Roan's amused expression looked more like a grimace. With a flick of her wrist Lexa dismissed the Ice party of three, causing Roan and the two of his Royal Guards to leave their spot in front of her throne.
Lexa felt powerful like this. It was a familiar position, one she knew she could fall into without hesitation by now. A mask she wore confidently, a game she excelled at.
The armrests of her chair felt natural under her hands, her fingertip tracing over a dent in the wood where she had absentmindedly twisted her knife a little too often. Her red sash laid draped underneath her figure, legs crossed in a careless but regal manner, causing the inside of the knee on top to burn a little.
With another single word the guards at the door left the throne room as well, leaving only one other person in her company.
"You're not pleased," Lexa recognized.
Clarke's mouth opened and closed before she found the words to reply. "You could've at least asked me first."
"I presumed you would not have other plans."
"That's not the point," Clarke objected. "I am not your prisoner anymore, Lexa. Just because I haven't gone back to my people does not mean you get to tell me where to go."
Lexa kept quiet, jaw tensing with unspoken words. Technically, now that the Sky people were the thirteenth clan, they fell under the commander's rule – meaning that yes, technically, Lexa did get to decide such things.
But none of that particularly mattered when it came to the Skaikru's ambassador.
Clarke huffed out a breath and stalked forward a little; Lexa's eyes followed the movement from where she remained in her chair.
"Besides," Clarke continued, her voice calmer now, "spending God knows how many days wandering through the wilderness just so we can make sure Roan gets back home doesn't sound like the greatest plan."
"Four days," Lexa corrected, rising out of her throne. "The journey takes four days on horseback, ten by foot."
It only took a few steps until she was in front of Clarke. It was odd how simply being alone with her made Lexa's shoulders slump a little, made her feel like she didn't have to keep a proud posture all the time.
Her stomach fluttered as she kept Clarke's gaze. She pushed it down with a breath.
"Roan and his people don't need us to do this, Clarke. Our people do." Lexa moved to a nearby table and poured the both of them a drink. Even though she knew Clarke already understood what she meant, Lexa was eager to keep their conversation going. "If we wish to have any hope of keeping peace with the Ice Nation, we must see to it in person. Roan is our key to securing Azgeda's cooperation. We will go with him because we need his people to trust us."
Clarke accepted the cup Lexa offered her, glancing down at the watery wine but not making any move to drink it. "That's why we're doing this? For the coalition?"
Clarke seemed to look right through her, but Lexa raised her chin. "Would you rather leave it in someone else's hands?"
There came no reply and Lexa straightened her spine, pleased she had convinced the both of them.
"Besides," she dared, a small smile creeping at the corner of her mouth, "you have had your fair share of wilderness. I'm sure we will be fine for those couple of days."
"Clarke of the Sky people has honored us with her presence."
With slight annoyance Clarke glanced up at the commander who was already perched proudly on a horse. The morning's breeze was cool and smelled of rain, and the gray expanse above them was doing nothing to better Clarke's mood.
A small party had come to see them off: a few generals and high-ranking guards who all focused their eyes on Clarke the moment she appeared. With a sigh she handed her backpack to a guard standing nearby, who strapped her belongings to the saddle of what would apparently be her horse. Clarke shifted in place, pouting as she imagined what she was getting into.
After months of surviving in the woods, Polis' warm bed and cooked meals had been more than welcome, despite of how little she was willing to let on about that. Now she was saying all of that goodbye to spend a week on horseback so half-frozen people could cheer for the safe return of their king.
Assuming, of course, that they didn't kill them on sight.
It had been less than a month since Clarke had arrived in Polis as Roan's captive, less than a month since she had spat in Lexa's face and had screamed out her rage over being abandoned at Mount Weather.
Things had changed drastically since then; only a week later the commander had dropped to her knees in front of her, had driven a spear through the Ice Nation's queen, and had somehow made Clarke forgive her for her choice at the Mountain.
Since then, politics had been on the forefront of Clarke's mind, leaving little space for other things. But every now and then, in the sole company of Lexa, something much more fragile hung between them. Something personal that caused both tension and comfort, leaving Clarke's lips tingling with the reminder of a kiss and an ache in her chest for something more.
Clarke settled her foot onto the saddle stirrup, frowning as her horse moved a few steps. She glared at the grounder holding its reins – he had one job – and the bearded man shifted in place, tightened his grip on the reins as Clarke clutched onto the saddle and pulled herself up.
She had been quite aware of her late arrival. Lexa had said to be there at sunrise and it was well into the morning by now, but Roan arrived only minutes after Clarke.
"Commander, Ambassador," he lazily greeted them. "All set for the journey, I see?"
"Get on your horse before I kick you onto it," Indra grumbled threateningly with her hand, as always, on her sword – not even a little fazed by the knowledge she was addressing a king. Lexa pursed her lips and Clarke knew she wasn't the only one trying to hide her amusement.
Next to the commander, Titus stood silently with his hands clasped in front of him, ever faithful by his Heda's side.
"We'll be back in ten days. Keep Indra informed about any military progressions," Lexa told him. She tapped her horse forward as soon as Titus nodded his understanding.
Two of the commander's own guards and Roan's Royal Guards sat ready on their dark colored horses, loaded with light travel packs, warm clothing and extra weapons. It was a small party, but it offered enough protection without slowing them down.
Lexa called out a few words and they were on the move, horses starting the first few steps of the long journey ahead.
"The shock batons," Clarke mused distantly, eyes on the dirt road in front of her, "if we could somehow find a way to replicate them... Use them as defibrillators. You know, like with Lincoln? We could give each village-"
"Clarke."
Hazily, Clarke turned her eyes to the girl riding next to her.
A smile played on Lexa's lips, suddenly making her look a lot younger in the morning sun. "Chil au. We don't have to worry about these things right now. You'd be wise to take a moment of peace when it finally presents itself."
"Did you just tell me to chill out?"
A lazy smirk appeared, formerly unseen and strangely appealing to Clarke. "If we continue at this speed, we will not reach Azgeda for another week."
To punctuate her words, Lexa spurred her horse forward, eyeing Clarke over her shoulder. The guards behind them followed suit and Clarke did the same, until the party of seven was moving at a fast but steady pace through the woods.
The route they took was beautiful. Clarke had trouble finding a better word for it.
They had slowed down again after a while, horses returning to a comfortable walk. Clarke had eventually taken Lexa's recommendation to relax a little, the world's problems and worries over her people gradually easing from her thoughts.
The day might have started off grayish, but now the sun was bright and the forest lush. The path they were taking was somewhat familiar to Clarke as they were still in Trikru territory, but she had never seen it this way before: in a time of relative peace.
It was an odd thing, how the absence of an immediate threat or pressing worries made beauty more apparent. Sunlight fell through the canopy of the forest. Their horses huffed. All things green seemed brighter: the leaves above them, the grass that grew along the path – instinctively Clarke turned her head to the girl next to her, and yes – Lexa's eyes that glistered in the daylight.
The commander sat on her horse in a trained position, spine straight as ever but her face softer, not just due to the absence of war paint.
A quirk of Lexa's lips betrayed her knowledge of Clarke's gaze on her. When Lexa turned to face her, carefree and obviously enjoying the trip just as much, Clarke couldn't help the smile it pulled from her cheeks, nor the warmth that spread through her.
Maybe some time with Lexa away from Polis' eyes wasn't such a bad thing.
"My guards are hungry and my horse is tiring," Roan murmured as he pulled his steed up next to Lexa's, sometime during the afternoon. "Wouldn't you agree it's time for a lunch break, Commander?"
Instead of answering, Lexa glanced to her other side. At some point during the journey, Clarke's face had taken on the resemblance of a pout. She had shifted in her saddle, clearly not too comfortable after their hours of riding. Lexa had chosen not to mention it but she knew the girl was not as used to horseback riding as her own people were.
With a couple more days to go, they would need to plan their breaks well. Had Lexa been by herself, she would've pressed their journey on until sundown. She knew the horses could take it and her guards would've followed her without hesitation, but a glance at Clarke made her decide differently.
"Ryder," she called out, and the addressed guard in front slowed down to listen. "Scout ahead. Find us a resting place."
He nodded his acknowledgement and took off, the galloping of his horse kicking up dirt from the ground.
"Azgeda do not mourn," Roan stated, twirling the piece of bread in his hand. "We don't have time for grief."
Clarke frowned, chewing on her own lunch. They sat hunched on a few fallen logs, travel packs discarded on the ground, the horses tied to nearby trees.
"Then there will be no funeral for the queen?"
"Her soul will be set free in fire," Roan answered her with monotone, practiced ease that made Clarke doubt how much he believed in those words, "but the queen is dead and the people need a leader."
He spoke easily about his mother's passing. From what Clarke had known about their relationship his cold attitude was not entirely surprising, but at the same time she wondered if he was hiding anything behind the stoic rejection of grieving.
"And you're their new leader," Clarke offered.
"I'm their king," Roan mumbled. "The generals that lead the army are used to being in command; the queen often let them have their way. She knew they were loyal. As long as they were ruthless and ready to march into battle with her, she couldn't care less about the details."
"But you are to lead them into a new era," Lexa spoke up. Her eyes were on Roan and the sound of her voice didn't leave room for much discussion.
"Right," he replied unsure, "an era of peace."
Clarke's stomach dropped. She could not help the sudden, dreadful fear that this was going to be a suicide mission. There was a good chance the Ice Nation would dismiss their call for a treaty and look to the generals for command, quite possibly deciding to shoot them full of arrows on their doorstep, but for some reason Lexa – as probably the only one of them – was confident that wouldn't happen.
Clarke looked around their travel party of seven.
"Not just you," she told Roan, deciding she could have that same faith and putting as much conviction in her voice as she could muster. She held their attention. "It's not your job alone. Skaikru, Trikru… The commander herself is here to make a stand for this alliance."
She briefly glanced at Lexa, her heart doing a faint somersault when she met pleased, green eyes.
"Your people would be idiots to cross us," Clarke mumbled lightheartedly in conclusion.
An Ice guard huffed a chuckle.
Roan hummed. "You may be right, Wanheda."
Their journey continued not much later with renewed energy and a bright afternoon sky. The landscape remained similar to what they had already crossed, but Lexa informed Clarke that would slowly start to change by tomorrow.
They rode on until the sun crawled down and the sky turned orange and it was time to make camp.
It was a shallow cave, hollowed out in a large, rocky wall which would suffice for cover. They had brought tents, but those seemed unnecessary for the night. One of Lexa's guards disappeared into the forest and came back not much later with three large rabbits and a pouch full of berries. They cooked the rabbits over a fire and washed it down with bitter tasting wine from flasks that were passed around.
The horses grazed nearby, huffing and working grass between their jaws that had been freed of bridle bits. One of the Ice guards had taken to looking after the horses, brushing them clean and picking out their hooves, and Clarke silently watched him work for a while. His ruthless appearance softened as the horse nudged its nose against him.
Next to Clarke, Lexa sat sharpening her dagger. The simple motion made her look dangerous, the knife's steel reflecting in her eyes.
Clarke listened to the repetitive sound with a thoughtful frown. Her own gun was strapped safely to her side – she had convinced Lexa she wasn't leaving the city without it – but it wasn't the most convenient weapon in every situation.
"I need a dagger," she realized out loud.
The grinding of metal stopped and Lexa looked at her. "Okay."
Clarke turned to face her, curious about the easy reply. She looked down to find the knife's hilt presented to her. "This one?"
The commander nodded. "It is a good knife."
"But it's yours."
Apparently that was not relevant. "You have more need for it then I do."
Clarke accepted the delicately crafted weapon from Lexa's hands.
"Thanks," she mumbled curiously.
Lexa offered no further reply but returned her gaze to the whetstone, and seemingly out of nowhere pulled out another dagger.
Clarke grinned, rolled her eyes.
Of course.
When nightfall came, it was with a cold wind and a dark, cloudy sky. They stoked the campfire to keep warm and the piney smell filled the air around them. Soon enough Clarke was rubbing her arms and shuffling closer to the fire, the night growing unexpectedly cooler.
Lexa watched. "You should get under the furs, Clarke."
The bedrolls they had brought would provide warmth and comfort, and Lexa did not wish for Clarke to catch a cold on their first day of travel.
"Or drink more," Ryder huffed, offering the flask with half a grin.
Clarke glanced at him with amusement and reached for her water bottle instead. "I'm all right, thanks."
"We should rest, get up early tomorrow," Lexa decided for all of them. Staying up late would do them no good – at least, not all of them. Maybe if it would just be her and Clarke they could talk for a while and shuffle closer for warmth or-
Lexa cleared her throat to clear her mind. She looked at Roan. "One of my guards can take the first watch."
Roan nodded his agreement and everyone pulled out their bedrolls, positioning them around the fire. As ordered, one of the commander's guards took post just outside the cave's mouth, promising to keep the fire going until his shift was over.
Lexa placed her sword next to her, within reach, and watched Clarke shuffle into her own furs not too far from her. The others had settled down on the opposite side of the campfire, a respectable distance away. In the dim shadow of the cave wall, she and Clarke had their relative privacy.
Clarke propped her jacket underneath her head. She rolled onto her side, facing Lexa.
"We will rise early tomorrow," Lexa told her softly. She watched Clarke shift, trying to get comfortable. "Cover more distance."
Although Lexa had sped them up not long after starting their journey, they had not nearly crossed as much distance as they should have. If this would be the going rate, then she had been right and they would not reach the Ice lands for another week.
She absentmindedly calculated their progression in her head, though she was not worried about it. Her heart thumped, pleased to lie this close to Clarke and spend days by her side, but Lexa silently wondered how long she could use their journey as an excuse to be near her. Her head told her she should not at all, but the fire crackled soothingly and Clarke's sparkling eyes were still locked with hers.
"I still think this is a terrible idea," Clarke told her lightheartedly, curling up in the furs a little, "but it it's not as bad as I thought it would be."
Lexa's mouth quirked. "Of course not. A commander only travels with class, Clarke."
Clarke raised an eyebrow, amused. "Class? That's what you call this? I think something got lost in translation there, Lexa."
She let her name softly echo between them and Lexa wondered if any of the others heard, but there was no reaction, not even a shuffle or cough. She carefully allowed a smile, one that she was sure only Clarke would notice.
"We'll stop by a lake tomorrow," Lexa told her. "It will be nice."
Clarke hummed, a smile that betrayed sleepiness. "I don't think I've heard you use that word before."
"I use the word 'lake' all the time, Clarke," Lexa stated. "For instance, the lake people, the-"
Clarke chuckled, interrupted her. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. Who knew the commander could be such a smartass."
Lexa was about to quietly contemplate whether she should dare another witty remark (this time related to her ass), but they were pulled out of the moment by the sound of firewood being shuffled around nearby. The guard on watch stoked the fire and Lexa glanced at him, suddenly reminded of who she was.
Their quiet moment was somewhat broken and Lexa's body felt a little heavier. "You should rest. The guards will keep watch, you are safe."
Clarke watched her for another moment, then mumbled, "I know."
The girl closed her eyes, and Lexa released a breath. In the darkness of the cave she allowed her face to soften and not much later her eyelids drooped, too.
Her sleep was getting better. The nightmares didn't come bloody and screaming anymore. They were still there, but they were easier; woke her up with a racing heart but no sweat down her spine.
Clarke opened her eyes, forcing the dream to a halt. The relief of reality washed over her and it took her a moment to remember her surroundings. The reflection of flames danced across the cave wall, a proof that the fire was still going and that it was still nighttime. She turned onto her other side, wondering if she could catch a glimpse of Lexa. Clarke's sleepy body welcomed the new position and she almost would've fallen asleep again if it weren't for the sight that greeted her.
The commander sat with her back against the cave wall, legs pulled up. She seemed to be staring at the cave's ceiling, toying with the dagger in her hands (which appeared to be a habit, Clarke had noticed).
The flickering of the campfire danced against Lexa's eyes, and Clarke didn't speak; merely took to watching her. Her tired eyes were about to close again when Lexa glanced at her. By the shift on her face, she must not have expected Clarke to be awake.
"You're not sleeping," Clarke mumbled, voice husky.
She got no reply. A glance at the cave's entrance revealed an Ice guard keeping watch.
"It's not your shift," she added.
Lexa's mouth tugged in irony, and it only took a few seconds for Clarke to realize the commander most likely didn't trust a Royal Guard with such a task. Although the idea of being watched while she slept was a little unnerving, it also gave Clarke a strange comfort to know Lexa kept guard. Made her feel safe and oddly nostalgic for an earlier night in the woods under much less pleasant circumstances, but where it had just been the two of them.
With that in mind, Clarke realized the commander probably kept herself awake more than necessary. She wondered if the girl was going to get any sleep at all during their journey.
"If these people are going to be our allies," Clarke mumbled, still tired and already close to giving into sleep again, "the least you can do is let them take a night shift."
Once again she got no reply. She didn't open her eyes to see the smile form on Lexa's lips, and she didn't notice Lexa shuffle into her own bedroll again after Ryder took watch half an hour later.
Like Lexa had said, they rose early the next morning. Their routine was quiet. The horses were saddled and the bags packed. Clarke watched the Ice guards apply a fresh coat of white paint to their faces over the grime and smudges that were still there.
They let the fire die out and smoldered it with mud. By the time they were ready to leave, the sky was still a pinkish color. The air felt fresh and a few birds hesitantly started their songs. With a final nod from Lexa, they continued their journey.
"Four days," Clarke mused, "times two. That means you'll be gone from Polis for more than a week."
Next to her, she noticed Lexa nod, hips swaying easily with the horse's movement. The sun shone in the east and made a perfect outline of the commander's profile.
Their second day of travel was going smoothly and left room for wandering thoughts and easy conversations.
Clarke raised an eyebrow. "After Titus' rant about your last unnecessary visit to Arkadia, I'm surprised he didn't throw a fuss over you leaving again."
"He did," Lexa answered, a smirk playing on her lips. "Titus would rather see me locked in the throne room, ruling as commander from a distance. But my duty is to my people, all of them, and I cannot serve them solely from my chair."
Clarke narrowed her eyes, nibbled her lower lip in thought.
"Be honest," she started, earning an inquisitive look, "war or no war, with or without urgent matters – what is the longest you've ever managed to stay in that tower?"
Lexa averted her gaze, an admitting smile on her cheeks. "A warrior is not meant to sit still, Clarke."
"And a commander?"
"A commander is a warrior," Lexa nodded, "just with more responsibilities."
The further they went, the more Clarke started to recognize her surroundings. Small creaks where they refilled their water bottles and overgrown ruins they passed reminded her of sleepless days and sore feet and visits to a nearby trading post.
She had wandered these woods for months and it was hard to forget about the nights she spent in them.
However, a good few hours later, they had left that familiar part of the forest behind them and instead moved into territory where the trees were taller and darker and filled with needles.
Roan breathed in deeply and smiled to himself; Clarke wondered if this was gradually starting to seem like coming home to him.
Early in the afternoon, Lexa shot her a grin – unexpected and exciting.
"Hod up," she called to the riders in front. "We'll take a break here."
The guards didn't offer any complaints and Roan didn't seem to mind either, though the call did come a bit unexpected. They didn't put much effort into their makeshift camp; plopped down onto the ground and let the horses take a break from their luggage.
Clarke was about to sit down with the others when Lexa came up to her, shoulders all straight and chin high under the mantle of commander.
Her voice did not match her appearance. "Clarke. I was hoping you'd take a walk with me."
Taking a walk seemed like the least obvious thing to do in their current situation, but the others were preoccupied with caring for their weapons and horses, and after hours in the saddle Clarke decided stretching her legs wasn't such a bad idea. The fact that it would give her some alone time with Lexa was only a secondary reason.
Ever watchful over his commander, Ryder moved to follow but a curt shake from Lexa's head made him stay. He sighed and turned his attention to his lunch again.
Clarke felt the leaves and twigs crunch under her boots. She followed after the other girl as Lexa, apparently knowing exactly where she was going, made her way past trees and muddy trails. Clarke frowned and almost asked her to slow down a little, but Lexa's excitement held her back.
When they arrived at their destination, splayed below the tree line and highlighted by the sun, it made sense. Clarke grinned at the scenery before her. The lake had a blue shade and Lexa faced her with a quiet expectancy in her eyes.
Discreetly taking Clarke's hand, she led them down the small hill and closer towards the waterline.
Once they had made it across the rocky terrain, which Lexa was undoubtedly using as an excuse to offer a steadying hand, Lexa wasted no time in taking off her boots.
"Won't the others come looking for us?" Clarke asked. She followed Lexa's example and started unlacing her shoes.
"Ryder will stop them," Lexa assured her. "The lake is ours for now."
Before Clarke had even taken off both her socks, Lexa was moving towards the water with her pants rolled up to her knees and dropping her shirt to the ground on the way, leaving her in chest bindings. Clarke observed the commander's uncharacteristic carelessness with amusement. She picked up Lexa's discarded shirt and placed it with her own jacket so they wouldn't lose them. Then, in her tank top and pants, Clarke followed after the other girl.
The water was cold – really cold. Clarke hissed as her feet were submerged. She grit her teeth and fought the urge to just run out again.
Lexa, who stood knee-deep in the water a little further on, lifted her chin and appeared to be suppressing a grin. She raised a questioning eyebrow.
"It's… cold," Clarke explained.
"Yes," Lexa deadpanned. She seemed to be enjoying the temperature herself, dragging her hands through the water and waiting for Clarke.
Clarke pouted. "I don't want to go further."
"It will get better," Lexa promised.
Clarke's teeth clenched a little tighter and she wrapped her arms around her torso, as if that would somehow keep her warmer. She took a few hesitant steps forward, slowly closing the distance between them.
Lexa seemed pleased once they stood next to each other, smiling at Clarke's grumpy expression. "See? You just have to get used to it."
Clarke was about to argue that it hadn't gotten better at all – if anything, her legs were completely frozen right now – when Lexa splashed some water towards her.
Drops of water soaked through her tank top, cooling the skin below. Clarke was shocked. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm helping you get used to the water."
In retaliation, Clarke splashed a good wave onto Lexa. "That's not helping at all!"
Caught off guard by the sudden attack – maybe she was just trying to help, it crossed through Clarke's mind – Lexa froze. The amount of water Clarke had splashed onto her was enough to cover her complete torso, soaking through her chest bindings and making her toned stomach glisten in the sun.
Clarke stammered out the first few words of an apology, but Lexa chuckled – she chuckled – with her eyes squinting and her shoulders bouncing and she looked so entirely human that Clarke's cheeks burned.
Clarke was pulled out of her daze by Lexa's hand wrapping around her arm, pulling her towards the shore again with laughter still in her voice. "Come on."
"It really is beautiful here," Clarke mused as they sat side by side on the shore a little while later, their feet drying in the sun and their shirts back on.
"It is," Lexa nodded. They were surrounded by dark trees that contrasted the seemingly blue water. "The northern territory is known for its beauty."
Lexa had that vulnerability in her voice again, the one that was never present when people called her Commander. Looking at her, Clarke noticed it on the girl's face, too.
"The people not so much then?" Clarke asked, curious as to how much Lexa would open up to her.
"The Ice people are much like their surroundings," Lexa replied softly. "Cold."
Clarke knew what that meant. A few birds chirped around them in the trees above, and she fiddled with a lose thread from her shirt. "Thank you for bringing me here."
When Lexa had mentioned their pit stop the night before, Clarke had more or less expected their whole travel party to take a break at the lake, not this private moment away together. The exceptions Lexa made for her did not go unnoticed by Clarke. They were rather endearing.
Lexa nodded once in acknowledgement, her eyes on the water again. The sun had just reached its highest point in the sky and it warmed them up significantly, though that wasn't the only reason for the heat on Clarke's face.
She contemplated asking about their plans once they got to the Ice lands, but decided against it. They would have enough time to discuss it later and she didn't want to ruin this moment by reminding them of who they were.
There was a time when the two of them and their people could not be differentiated, a time of war and politics and decisions they had to make without emotion. In the light of the sun, away from everyone else, somewhere near the border of two lands and hidden between rows of trees, things were much simpler.
Lexa leaned her head back and closed her eyes against the light of the sun, and Clarke wondered if they were finally doing more than surviving.
"Commander." Roan watched them arrive back at the group. "I was starting to think you had left without us."
"It crossed my mind," Lexa responded stoically, but Clarke could hear the playfulness in her voice.
Roan gave Clarke a questioning look, a bit unsure about the commander's reply.
Clarke shrugged, playing along. "You owe me."
They checked the straps on their saddles and resecured the supplies. A few apples were handed out for on the way before they mounted up again, ready to travel on.
"Clarke."
The alarm in Lexa's voice was the most disturbing thing around her; not the way all warriors reached for the swords on their hips or the narrowing of Roan's eyes or the deep rise of a guard's chest.
Lexa's voice hid fear and that's what made the hairs on Clarke's neck rise.
"Do not move."
Clarke was, however, in the middle of shifting her weight, and so she carefully settled her foot further down. With wide eyes she locked her gaze on Lexa, occasionally glancing at the other warriors for a clue about the imminent danger, as her spine tensed up with adrenaline.
Earlier, they had stopped somewhere in the woods to make camp for the night and two of the guards had already left to collect dinner. The rest of them were about to set up the tents, their travelling packs lying only a few feet away while the horses, still at ease, were tied to the trees nearby.
Clarke is not sure what made everybody panic so suddenly. But if Lexa said you do not move, you do not move.
And so Clarke froze. A dozen possible dangers flashed through her mind – Emerson's gun, a panther or pauna, the blade or drawn arrow of an assassin sent to kill them – and Clarke felt vulnerable. She ached to look over her shoulder, to face whatever threat there was, to settle this indecisive fight or flight feeling.
Something rustled behind her, softly and barely touching the leaves of the forest, and Clarke startled at its proximity. Before she could process what it could be her eyes flew to the colorful, striped snake that slid down a branch just off to her side, poking its tongue out, only a few inches away from her.
Instinctively, Clarke flinched. Her first reaction would be to run as far away as possible – but Lexa's urgent gaze was still on her and Clarke remembered to not move even as her breathing grew heavy.
"Lexa…"
Lexa was already slowly moving towards her, dagger drawn, as the snake slid further down the branch, brushing against Clarke's leg.
"Movement will aggravate it," Lexa murmured, and Clarke desperately tried to focus on her voice to drown out everything else. "Try to keep still."
Before the commander could distract the snake, the nearest horse took notice of it as well. It neighed in fear and stomped its foot, tugging on its leash and startling all of them.
Clarke flinched again – the adrenaline in her body was just too damn high – and the snake, now alert, ducked before diving at her lower leg.
"Clarke!" Lexa had followed the snake down and scolded her for the movement. With precise hands, Lexa waited for the right moment and managed to cease hold of its head, pushing it to the ground and driving her dagger through its skull.
Clarke grit her teeth as she watched the snake slither and die. Her lower leg throbbed with pain as if someone had smashed a hammer against it. There was no blood, but by the concerned look on Lexa's face and the pain she had felt earlier, she knew she had been bitten.
"It's not poisonous, right?" Clarke's breathing was heavy. She searched Lexa's eyes desperately. "Right?"
Clarke raked her mind for anything she had learned in Earth Skills, and remembered that more than seventy percent of snakes used to not be venomous.
Used to. She tried to ignore the panicking voice in her head that told her things had changed with radiation and mutations.
Her heart dropped when Lexa met her eyes. Without giving Clarke a reply, the Commander turned to the others. "We need to find a healer."