With weary eyes she looked down upon the city; the wind whirling softly around her. A lover's breeze touches her hair and she closes her eyes. The light of the city carried up high into the tower. The stars, despite the bright lights of Polis, shined soothingly above her. A gentle reassurance. A soft voice called out to her. It happened more often in the last few weeks. She knows what it means. What could have been; what should have been. She knows it's time. Tonight.
She turns around and stops in her movement when her eyes fall onto the candles in the room. In her peripherals, she swore she saw a shadow dancing around the candles in this room. In her room. In their room. It is still their room.
After everything, the Commander gave her this room in honor of Wanheda and the Commander before her. Ontari, dead for decades by now, did make sure that Clarke was save; after everything was over. The war was won. Pike had died. And she; she went into the City of Light. The pain was too much, but more so was pain of thinking that she died for nothing. So, she went. Fooling Jaha, fooling A.L.I.E. When all hope was lost, she felt save again; for the last time.
A whirlwind of blades rescued her from being beaten to death. Before she could register it, soft hands embraced her face and carefully stroked her cheeks. Lexa.
'I am here to help you' she spoke.
She could only nod and marvel at seeing this face. At seeing Lexa alive, in her war gear.
'You know what you need to do, Clarke,' she spoke when they were standing in the centrum of the City of Light.
She nodded. Her throat constricted, her heart felt like it would drop into the earth. 'I can't lose you again," she whispered softly and stepped closer to Lexa.
She kissed her. Her hands gripped her hair tight. She pressed against Lexa, feeling her heart beating against her chest and she imagined Lexa's heart beating in the same rhythm as hers. Being one. How it should have been.
Her tears melted against Lexa's lips as they shared a passionate kiss. The prickling in her lips spread through her body and for the first time in weeks, she felt alive. Carefully, she pecked Lexa's lips, caressed them with her lips, and then let go. She leaned her forehead against Lexa's and inhaled deeply. Her scent.
'I can't do this. I … I can't lose you again.' She whispers against Lexa's lips. She heard the audible gulp of Lexa's swallowing. Her hands on Lexa's face noticed the muscles contracting in her jaw. This is her Lexa. How could she lose her again? Not after … everything.
'I love you, Clarke kom Skaikru. You will never lose me. Your spirit touched mine beyond worlds and my soul will be forever bound to yours.'
Lexa sounded so sure. And her heart skipped hearing this confession.
'I love you too,' she whispered back.
A sudden gush of wind brought her out of this reverie. A tired smile adorned her lips, her skin wrinkling around her mouth and deepening the already existing lines. The pain and anguish she felt all these years ago faded into longing. She had loved Lexa with all her heart and she knew she could not poison her image with ill feelings she held about her death. Forgiveness. She preaches it to the natblida. She is, after all, the legendary Wanheda. Her hair falls in gray waves over her shoulders; her days as the blonde are long gone, but not forgotten. She is feared and will be forever feared in the legends of the Grounders. A warrior, a peacemaker. A lover, a mourner.
Slowly, she lets her eyes drift over the candles, the bed that never changed, Lexa's armor standing on a rack in the corner. Another smile in loving memory. Soon.
"I have watched you sleep so many times," a gentle voice murmured near her ear. Surprised, she turns in the sheets of her bed to find Lexa – youthful, smiling, and her eyes full of love and adoration. Gentle light streams in through the curtains and envelops the room in dreamlike state.
"H-How?" she stammers confused.
"You died, my love," she whispers back and carefully lifts one hand to her cheek. She nuzzles her skin against those hands she had missed, against the warmth that made her feel alive. Once again. Alive. With her love.
Lexa pulls her closer. No clothing. Nothing that seperates them. Not even time.
She enjoys feeling close to her. To breathe her in, to carefully draw random patterns on her skin; like so many years before. She felt Lexa's hands on her back, in her hair. Lexa surrounds her.
A sudden weariness overcomes her.
"Why am I so tired?" She mumbles against Lexa's shoulder.
"Dying takes much from one."
"Oh."
She snakes an arm around Lexa's waist and pressed herself even closer to her.
"Can we sleep?"
"We have eternity," Lexa spoke into her skin and then softly kissed her forehead. With a lazy sigh, she nestles into Lexa's embrace, intertwines her legs with hers, and softly speaks.
"Reshop, Heda."