Sugar We're Goin' Down
Hey nerds! I love and miss all of you bootyful people, and I'm saying all of this sappy shit because in a few months I'll be stopping updates completely, and this might last several months. I gotta have surgery and the total recovery time will be six months, but I'll be coherent enough to write after six weeks, but physical therapy and swimming are going to be taking up a lot of time. (I'll be losing a lot of weight and I'll be on drugs for a while ;/ so I want to work out enough so that I'm ready for my comps in December.)
This was a piece resinswhy wanted, so this is all for you Princess!
The world seemed to spin fast enough to where it could be felt beneath boot clad feet, what with all of the people bustling about seemingly in a perfect circle around a distressed figure in a long black trench coat. They were all glowing and joyful, high on their victory against the Mountain Men. None of them thought much of the smoke rising from the side of the Mountain, they didn't mind it one bit, because they all thought it meant that some of the Mountain Men had been blown to pieces of flesh and bone, and not their own people.
But their own people had been reduced to chunks of bloody muscle and razor bits of starch white bone.
Lexa's stomach was twisted into so many knots that a thousand naval Captains couldn't untie the elaborate mess if they had a thousand years of spare time. Her throat was a mashed up mess of lumps she couldn't swallow around and her jaw was clenched tight enough that the straining muscles themselves would probably tear if she stretched them any more. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, she couldn't, and she wouldn't, cry. Not until she was alone would she break down, and she controlled herself by concentrating on the loop her mind had been set on.
Clarke is gone.
The Mountain blew, and it blew her along with it.
Lexa's clenched fists shook as she bared her teeth, eyes clenched shut as if that was enough to subdue the tears that fought a tiring battle to appear in bitter victory. Her shoulders were tense, and they strained against her armored coat, which threatened to burst at the finely stitched seams. She didn't know how to deal with this injustice, this wrongdoing against humanity itself because Clarke was such a damn good, caring person that such a death wasn't befitting of even the smallest, most insignificant cell or even organelle within her fragile body. The Mountain Men were not an honorable opponent, they were not an opponent that was worthy enough to fell Clarke of the Sky People. None were worthy, but she was worthy enough to have them all fall at her hand.
No one had the right to kill such a person as Clarke.
Lexa inhaled, and gave a small, barely apparent sob, though her chest heaved slightly.
Indra noticed, and she cursed the name of Abby Griffin.
"I want Clarke on my team. We will lead the second wave on the first three floors until we make our way to the fifth where the majority of the citizens are," Lexa said firmly, her finger ghosting over the maps Clarke had sketched so that everyone had copies of the Mountain's layout. "My team will only be fifteen strong."
"That isn't enough people!" Abby snapped, struggling to keep a respectful tone. It was not that she didn't like the Commander, because in all honesty she admired the young woman. It was that she wanted Clarke with her, and Abby would always be of the belief that Clarke would be safer surrounded by Arkers armed with guns than a cluster of savage Trigedakru. "Perhaps you could take more men, and I was hoping Clarke would be with team four in the third wave, she could act as a doctor for the teams in the first two waves. You will be the ones taking most of the injuries-"
"-No," Clarke said fiercely, "I will not be kept from the fight. I want to at least be in the second wave, and that is not up for negotiation."
The blonde stared down her mother and Lexa, knowing that the latter also needed to understand that she wanted to fight. But Clarke realized that Lexa wouldn't stop her, she would only protect from afar.
Lexa nodded, "Be in the second wave. Perhaps you have your own team? Fill it with my warriors if they suit you, but I would suggest at least one of the Skaikru with one of your guns."
"Then you should have one of the Skaikru too," Clarke argued, ignoring the look her mother gave her when she didn't say, 'of my people.'
Lexa shook her head, leaning against the table with her scarred knuckles. "Skaikru are skittish around my people if you or one of your people are not in possession of some sort of level of power or importance. They do not like the unknowns that are created when none of their leaders are present to 'protect them from the savages'."
Abby opened her mouth to counter the statement, not wanting Lexa to think that way without hearing her out, but Indra spoke up.
"Do not try and protest, Abigail Griffin, we know it to be true," Indra turned to Clarke, "Lead a team to the right side of the second floor, it should be full of well guarded art and technology if these maps are correct. The technology is something we need to keep away from the Mountain Men, so it is a priority."
Indra ignored the look Lexa shot her. Those rooms were not well guarded, in fact, they were far from the truly intense action that would engulf most of the second floor after the first wave made it to the third floor, leaving behind fresh and battered soldiers for the second wave to deal with.
But Clarke's team hadn't gone to the right side of the second floor. Abby had directed them towards Kane's team of Arker Gunners, wanting to protect the man who had been screaming about taking heavy fire and a bullet to the leg. It was her fear, her idiocy, that cost them Clarke. But of course Kane survived, having been hefted up by Lincoln upon Clarke's order and brought to safety, as if he was the one that needed to be brought to safety instead of the injured that had and had continued to actually fight.
A small, deep growl escaped Indra's lips, she detested the Skaikru ways. They were always ruling with emotion, with their weak little hearts instead of using their only slightly stronger minds. They thought that others were more valuable then others, when they were all human, when only mere words determined their worth.
'Yet they possess such an extreme superiority complex over the Trigedakru'
Indra watched Lexa swallow before her mask fell back into place. Her gloved fists uncurled and one hand moved to clutch the hilt of her black blood-stained blade at her armored hip. Her spine straightened and her air of power and intimidation returned strong enough for even Indra to feel, the intensity of her dark green eyes striking deep into Indra's heart. She could see the pain her Heda's eyes, only because she had known her since she was born, only because she had studied that face for nineteen, almost twenty years.
The dark-skinned general ran her tongue over pearly white teeth, huffing. She would do nothing, not unless the Commander asked something of her.
The girl hadn't needed a hug and motherly words since the day she received Costia's head in a dirty cloth sack.
Indra watched with a clenched jaw as a teary-eyed Octavia marched up to the Commander to request a private audience. Lexa nodded, and the two walked into the Commander's war tent.
Inside the tent, Lexa's hands curled back into fists, trembling as her emotions threatened to burst past her facade like a raging bull. Her mask was an experienced matador, though now it had been weakened, and now it was at risk of being speared with sharpened horns. Those horns were coated in poison, a poison that would set free all of the caged monsters Lexa stored in the facility she built within her mind over years of leading and suffering along with her people. But the Commander would not be broken, especially not in the company of Octavia Blake.
"How can I-"
"-I know this whole act you have is a cheap facade, Heda," Octavia choked, her voice strangled. Lexa saw that the other girl herself was struggling to contain her tears. "I would know, because I made one too, and now Abby and Kane hate me for being emotionless. Pfft, there was a time when they hated me for existing, so I don't really care but I mean come on its your fucking fault she's-"
"-I know," Lexa interjected, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "It is amazing, Octavia Blake, that men and women can hate each other for trying to be strong while they are the cause of what has made them weak."
Octavia nodded, the sudden lump in her throat making it nearly impossible to speak. She pushed through it to speak later, however.
"I'm still mad at you for what you did in TonDC," She said, her voice as hoarse and low as Lexa's. "But I can't bring myself to feel angry right now, not when we're both suffering and I don't feel like adding onto it."
Lexa nodded, "I understand, Octavia, trust me, I do. It is okay to feel anger, feel sadness, depression, weakness. But please, do not let it show, not until we have somehow achieved true peace. Until then, tears will be acid that will destroy your shield, your facial mask. Do not cry yet, Octavia Blake. Save your tears for a more private time."
But tears were falling silently down the sheltered teens face, even as her teeth were clenched and bared as she struggled to rein them in. She didn't want to fall apart in front of the Commander, in front of anyone, even Lincoln. But she couldn't believe that Clarke was dead. Octavia didn't even care about TonDC anymore, she couldn't hold it against the now deceased blonde. Only after Clarke died did she realize just how many hard decisions the blonde had made, and now she felt like an ass.
The once-Arker was naturally shocked when the Commander walked up into her personal space and pulled her into a fierce hug. Octavia's arms were pressed between their chests until she shift to wrap them around Lexa's neck, burying her face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder. Only then did Octavia let her tears flow without struggle. Lexa was there, Lexa was her comfort, because she had no one else, and perhaps she could find solace among the others that suffered.
As Lexa held Octavia - which was something she hadn't realized she had done until the shorter girl wrapped her arms around her neck - she went back to a moment she had shared with Clarke not long ago.
Lexa passed Clarke a slice of sugarcane. The crop had been freshly delivered that morning, and Lexa knew that the blonde had probably never even tasted such a delicious sweetness in all her life. The Commander wanted to be the one that introduced Clarke to everything that the Ground had to offer. She wanted to take the blonde everywhere, take her to see everything and try everything she wanted. She wanted to just be there and see Clarke's face light up when something caught her eye or amazed her, because it was entrancing, endearing, empowering, even.
The blonde sunk her teeth into the sugarcane and sucked gently, bringing the sweetness onto her tongue with a small moan. The blonde removed her teeth from the sugarcane, and looked at Lexa with bright blue eyes, the elated glint there captivating.
"This is delicious!" Clarke exclaimed, giddy. "What is this stuff?"
A small smile formed on cupid bow lips as Lexa replied, "Sugarcane, we use it to make regular sweet sugar, but there is nothing like regular, freshly harvested sugarcane."
Clarke sunk her teeth back into the sugarcane before pulling back. "You're definitely right about that. Can I have more?"
Over the course of a week, Clarke's sugar addiction progressed at a steady rate and Lexa finally dubbed the blonde 'Sugar', though she didn't tell the blonde about her new nickname. It was something Lexa wasn't ever planning to admit, just like she wasn't planning on admitting her attraction to the blonde.
Lexa remembers Clarke smiling at her, fresh sugar enveloping her taste buds. She remembers the sun glinting off of her blonde hair, creating a wreath of golden flame that encircled her goddess-like features, making her cheeks glow and her eyes somehow brighten even more. She remembers her beauty, her bright presence, her quiet grace even though she was barely moving at all. Her entire being was intoxicating, and Lexa wondered what Clarke's lips tasted like when they were coated in the sweet treat she had been given.
'You're a drug yourself, Sugar.'
Lexa swallowed past a lump in her throat, shuffling slightly as Octavia trembled in her arms. She knew the brunette was not her biggest fan at the moment, but she also knew that they were both hurting and they were both the only people the other could turn to. They would suffer together, though Lexa would make sure her suffering would not be as apparent as it was with the crying and now sobbing warrior in her arms.
But after ten minutes of fierce struggling, the matador was pierced with the razor sharp horns of the bull, and all of Lexa's emotions were freed in a torrent.
But even then, she was able to keep herself in check.
But even then, a singular, small tear raced down her cheek, as if it were fleeing her eyes to escape her body, to escape the sadness, the devastation.
The Commander could feel herself falling deeper into her seemingly never ending pit of sadness, depression and excruciating pain that had opened up in her chest. She would cling to the sharp edges of the side of the pit, but her fingers would always lose their grip eventually, and she would slip and fall lower and lower and lower.
'Sugar we're going down.'
Heh.