A/N: Title from 'Attention' by Wyatt, which inspired me to write this.
"Clarke," Lexa breathed her name as if it was a prayer, a sacred word used for the holiest occasions.
Clarke turned around, her clothes swaying in the movement, and Lexa was convinced their only purpose of existence was to stay close to her body at the perfect distance, only sometimes making way for soft breezes of air or the brush of an outstretched arm.
"Commander." A corner of her mouth lifted, sadly and timid, like she was afraid to show Lexa anything more than a tragic acknowledgement.
The clothes fit you well.
I noticed you weren't at the tables, so I had them save dinner for you.
This dress makes your eyes stand out-
"The meeting tomorrow will take place just after sunrise," Lexa said, focusing her gaze on the sky girl's feet.
Clarke nodded, her hands tingling at the way Lexa wouldn't meet her eyes. Silence took over the room. Lexa stood near the door, her eyes still downward as her thoughts drifted to be anywhere but here.
Anything else? It popped into Clarke's head like a reflex - a phrase that was mechanically used because two people needed something to talk about as a reason to be near each other.
She consciously kept quiet, biting on her tongue and swallowing the acidic words back down.
They were mere seconds, but Lexa could've believed anyone who told her they were hours, before she reminded herself to breathe and reached for the door handle.
"I will see you at sunrise, then."
Sunrise, but all Clarke managed was a nod that Lexa didn't even notice.
Sunrise had come and passed an hour ago before Clarke walked into the throne room, ignoring the complaining murmur of two bearded men and seating herself in the only remaining empty chair.
Lexa had risen when the doors had opened. Expecting a judgemental glance for her late arrival, Clarke avoided her eyes - and Lexa composed herself, dismissing her reason for standing up as a means to start the meeting, and certainly not because the appearance of blonde hair had made her rise up in exhilaration from her throne.
She avoided blue eyes.
Clarke studied the cracks on the floor.
It took three days for their eyes to meet again. It wasn't sweet, or careful, or determined like they had faced each other before.
It was cold.
It was painful.
And Clarke swallowed away the lump in her throat because this was confusing.
Lexa had sat on her chair at the end of the table, regal posture and eyes roaming steadily over the clan ambassadors attending the feast. Clarke showed up in a dark green dress, formal black paint under her eyes, and it made Lexa's heart skip a beat.
But you're not someone I could hold.
So she drank her wine and moved her gaze to the young women that danced to rhythmic music, a poor attempt at distraction.
Bellamy finished the last of his drink and his arm tightened around Clarke's shoulder. He kissed her temple and she smelled the lingering scent of the grounder's alcohol. She looked towards the area where Polis' inhabitants were dancing, and was unprepared when his fingers moved under her chin and he pressed his lips against her own. His hold was lazy, and she immediately pulled back. It was insignificant and foolish, and he would regret his drunk actions in the morning - she knew that.
But Lexa found her eyes and the Commander's heart shattered in her chest. It burned, it cracked and ripped out every fiber of her existence.
It was painful.
And then it was cold.
And Clarke's eyebrows rose in sorrow, because Lexa was a liar.
Lexa retreated to her room that night.
She threw up as her heart sunk into her stomach and coiled around, convincing herself that the tears streaming down her cheeks were from the acid in her throat.
"You must take these Azgeda threats seriously!" Titus nostrils flared as he spoke. "You cannot allow these rumors to become your downfall-"
"They hold no ground," Lexa interrupted him, keeping her gaze fixed in front of her.
"Heda, your feelings for the sky girl have compromised your position. They will call for a vote if they think you unfit for the throne."
Lexa's fingers dug into the armrest of her chair.
"They have no reason to doubt me," she insisted. "The Ice Queen only wishes to see me fall."
"Clarke-"
"Is the ambassador of the sky people."
"And nothing more?"
"And nothing more."
She tried to ignore the way her bruised heart seemed to stop beating entirely.
"It didn't mean anything."
Lexa swallowed through a tensed jaw at the sound of her voice, but didn't turn around. It would make it easier, she convinced herself.
"I know."
"He was drunk."
Lexa turned towards the window, a poor attempt at escaping Clarke's words. She looked over her city, down onto the grey streets filled with people. She was their Heda, their Commander and leader who was supposed to be untouchable, and it was in these moments that she wished she wasn't.
"I don't love him like that. I don't-"
"I know."
And Clarke tucked away all the rest of her words because Lexa knew, and she wasn't even sure why she felt the need to tell her all this.
Except she had seen her eyes break the night before.
"Why did it hurt you?"
Because weakness causes pain.
"It didn't. It can't," Lexa replied, looking out over the city.
"Bullshit," Clarke exclaimed surprisingly quiet.
"You know why, Clarke," Lexa spoke too loud, turning around and facing her with steel eyes. It was a mistake, she knew afterwards, because she wasn't prepared for the pain in her chest at seeing her face. "You know why it hurts." Her voice trembled and she cursed herself for it.
For all of it.
I was lying to you when I said my love grew cold.
She turned back to the window before the tears had a chance to spill and the trembling of her lips became too obvious.
Clarke wasn't sure if it was her place to feel guilt, but she felt it anyway. A single tear escaped from the corner of her eye, leaving a trail for both their pain, before she realized her presence was the cause of it and left the room.
"Then why is Wanheda still alive? If this is your weakness again, Azgeda will happily step in." The Ice Nation's ambassador stood in front of her, defiantly awaiting her response to his challenging tone.
Lexa's voice was even as she spoke; she had rehearsed these words enough times to make them sound convincing. "Clarke kom Skaikru is here as an ambassador. Unless you wish to break the Coalition, I advise you not to make threats against the Thirteenth clan."
"They hold your favor." It wasn't a question but a statement to conclude it for all present in the room.
"They hold an alliance," Titus corrected him immediately. "Your accusations of Heda being weak are ill-founded. You would be wise to base your allegations on something before challenging her position again. Now take your seat and let us move on to more pressing matters."
The Commander's jaw was clenched as the Ice man concluded his accusation and relented, leaving the few other present ambassadors to observe her intently.
If Clarke was here, she would understand.
She would understand why.
But Clarke already understood, and it didn't make it any easier.
She convinced herself that it wasn't much different from how it had been before.
Except it was, in every way.
The Sky people had been integrated into the Coalition, they held an alliance with the Trikru and it was their means to survival - except Lexa made her long for more than survival.
They were leaders, spoke for their people who always came first - except Lexa made her loathe that position.
They spoke of politics and trade arrangements - except now Lexa avoided her eyes and left too many things unspoken.
"I don't think I can do this anymore."
Lexa's heart clenched at the vulnerability in Clarke's voice. She resisted the urge to comfort this girl who fell out of the sky and onto her lands like she was always meant to make this life a little harder, a little brighter.
Lexa swallowed once. She could barely do this either, that much she had known from the very start.
"I think I should leave, Commander."
She should. It would remove the danger and distraction she presented to her. It would stop any more rumors from forming and it would preserve the Coalition.
"Lexa." She forced herself to look into blue eyes, fighting not to drown in their ocean. "You used to call me Lexa."
Clarke merely shook her head and looked away, causing Lexa to search her eyes in a desperate attempt to pull her gaze back to hers. Her hands were begging to reach out and pull Clarke's face back to her, to remind her how to breathe and to soothe the ache in her chest.
How I need your affection.
She had no right to ask Clarke to stay, she couldn't give her a reason, yet she found herself on the edge of begging her not to leave.
Clarke looked at her, suddenly making them painfully aware of the small distance between them.
Lexa moved her jaw, forcing herself to take steady breaths. She raised her chin in an attempt to draw back the tears that threatened to cloud her vision.
Clarke's shaking hand almost reached out for Lexa's own, longing to feel her warm touch again, seeking the long-lost comfort of the girl that had kissed her in the privacy of her tent. She slowly brought their foreheads together and Lexa closed her eyes, feeling her breathing trembling.
My heart still aches for you. It ripped through her mind like a painful realization and got caught in her throat as she couldn't find it in herself to say the words that could only be like a dagger to Clarke's chest.
The doors opened, the reflection of light on their glazed windows cutting through the silence like a knife, and Lexa immediately pulled back. Clarke remained standing, her own eyes still closed as she processed the loss of their small moment.
Titus' eyes were hard as his gaze fell upon Clarke. Lexa faced him with equal steel, daring him to draw any conclusion as to what he had walked in on.
"Heda," he said, and Clarke swallowed down the reminder of what they couldn't have.
"To be Commander, is to be alone."
"I will not hear this again."
Clarke found her one evening, her breath pushing soft clouds through the cold air outside.
"Don't go," Lexa said, not bothering to turn around from where she looked into the bordering forest. "Stay in Polis. For your people." I'll have you protected.
Clarke huffed. "For my people," she echoed like it was an absurd thing to say, an ironic statement.
Lexa turned to face her, eyes dark and unreadable through the thick night air.
For me. It went unspoken, but Clarke could swear she heard her say it.
Clarke nodded, sighed. "For my people."
When the spear tore through Nia's clothes, settling somewhere in between her abdomen and the chair she sat on, Lexa breathed. She breathed for vengeance, for desperate closure, for Costia who would never take a breath again.
She found Clarke standing on the sidelines, her expression somewhere in between worry and relief.
And Lexa realized that she breathed for her, too.
Perhaps it wasn't so much about her safety, but more about their newfound respect of the Commander when the guards let Clarke into her room.
Bare feet walked carefully across the floor, but not as hesitant as before. Braids untied, face washed clean and clothes light against her skin, Lexa felt almost uncomfortably exposed when Clarke stood in front of her.
She opened her mouth to speak, but found no words to be said and swallowed instead, waiting for Clarke to tell her of the things that weighed heavily on her mind.
A small reflection of the stars that shone through the window behind Lexa was seen in glazed over, blue eyes.
"You're a liar."
Lexa's eyes went hard at this, she tensed her jaw but held her tongue for she couldn't deny it yet wouldn't admit to it either.
"You're so afraid of your own feelings that you won't even admit them. You're a coward, Lexa."
"This has nothing to do with cowardice," Lexa argued through gritted teeth. "I thought you understood a Commander has no place for things as love."
Clarke felt a kick in her stomach as Lexa labeled it as love, but composed herself almost instantly.
"Don't use your 'love is weakness' lecture on me. Stop hiding behind excuses," she growled, taking a threatening step forward into Lexa's space.
"It is not hiding," Lexa spoke loudly. "It is about protection." Yours more than mine.
Clarke shook her head as if it would cause Lexa's words to be less true.
"You deserve better." It was whispered, out of place among the harshness of their previous tone, a heartbreaking statement that ripped through the air as if those simple words could change who they were. "We deserve more."
"Do we?" Lexa's voice was soft and on the verge of breaking, laced with sudden uncertainty. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice was telling her that it didn't matter what they did or did not deserve - she lived for her people, and not for herself.
Lexa's hands tingled as Clarke pressed her face close to hers, brushing their noses together and breathing in her soul. She didn't explain why, but it needed no explanation when Clarke ghosted her parted lips over Lexa's ever so lightly, testing the soft feeling of her lips and waiting for her to pull back or lift her chin to kiss her properly. But Lexa's breath caught in her throat and she did neither.
And so Clarke moved again, gasping for small breaths of air as her mouth and cheeks brushed against Lexa's skin.
Her neck smelled of flowers and Lexa looked down to trace the smooth skin with her eyes in silent longing, one that she had convinced herself she couldn't give in to. Clarke was closer to her than she had ever been before, and Lexa mourned as Titus' lessons tried to fight their way through her mind. But all the teachings he had taught her were nothing more than whispers in the wind, because he had trained her to be Heda, and not Leksa - not the girl she was right now.
Weakness coiled in Lexa's stomach and pressed upwards to her chest, and she closed her eyes because she had never been strong enough to fight this. And so she relented, letting Clarke's soft brushes cut her open, drowning in waves that made her gasp for air through the almost painful sensation in her chest. She moved her head, pressing back against the pale skin and letting the tears from Clarke's eyes stain both their faces.
Lexa almost whispered confessions of lies against her parted lips but instead there was a soft sigh of yearning as she felt the curve of Clarke's upper lip brush against the corner of her mouth. The sound and all of her secrets were swallowed by Clarke's lips, finally pressing their mouths together in an eager kiss, one that made Lexa's jaw go slack and at the same time urged her to push back.
When Clarke pulled away, Lexa chased after her lips in short, urgent kisses. For every moment they disconnected, Lexa would feel destruction wash over her and immediately ask for another, short moment that pushed it away, silenced her entire being and at the same time only added to the pain it caused.
Time had never been on their side, and it didn't take long for their touches to become desperate. Soft hands clawed at delicate clothes that could almost tear through the fabric, soft moans falling out of their mouths because this was wrong, this was forbidden, but they were too deep in and neither could stop it.
And so they settled for letting it drown them together.
They fell out of their clothes, not as leaders. Clarke's grip on Lexa's side was bruising, but she wasn't about to let go because they finally had each other and once the sky tumbled down to the ground, it would never get back up again.
They stumbled against the wall, bodies pressed together, hips grinding unconsciously until the friction elicited a desperate moan. Pulling each other onto the bed, gentle kisses pressed to soft and scarred skin like they would heal all the wounds the ground had given them, limbs entwined like they had always been incomplete without the other.
Fingers found all the secret curves, tracing patterns and thrusting rhythms as they couldn't make out where one began and the other started.
And for a moment, there was only them.
For a moment, caught in a haze of longing, Lexa could swear that what was written in the old books was true.
Heaven did exist, and it had fallen down to earth for her.