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It wasn't her fault. Really it wasn't.
Really.
She couldn't possibly take the blame for the ability to detect the movement of abs most favourably viewed nude under the tight material of the powerful coat effortlessly worn. How could she take the blame for the tight cling of fabric exposing all but skin of toned thighs? She squirmed in her seat, imagining, rememberingthighs and abs working in tandem beneath her. It definitely wasn't on her to account for the tension found in the tight jawline, perfectly sculpted. And certainly there was no blame to be had for the glint of the sun reflecting off deep emerald eyes. Angry emerald eyes. Anger directed, mercifully, at another ambassador.
But why anger was present at all, that she didn't know. And that she was accountable for.
She should be paying more attention in the council meetings. It was a privilege to be there. To be counted as the ambassador of the thirteenth clan. It had been seventy-four days since the threat of war loomed over her people. Since their place at this table was questioned. Since the utility of keeping them alive was put forward for discussion.
It had been a blow to Lexa's support. Undoubtedly. Despite her insistence that it was their duty to follow her in all things. Into war and into peace. Anyone who dared defy her, well, their clans weren't protesting any more. Lexa was ruthless. She had been informed long ago of this fact. It wasn't a surprise to her that Lexa's methods were not the stuff of heroic fairy tales. Clarke herself had made hard decisions. Not of the same calibre as the object of her musings had, and not as often, but she knew. Decisions like these didn't come easily, so hard it was to separate right from wrong. There were times when the moral course of action had to give way to the wicked, as it so often did when the body upon the gallows was retaining one's power. The right choice might just be the one to make you lose. Battles must be conceded to win wars, and it was vital that Clarke win the war for her people's place on Earth.
So Clarke didn't ask. When certain ambassadors did not show up to council meetings following accusations of favouritism, of blindness, of witchcraft,it was all for the bigger picture. These little deeds Lexa executed were attempts to retain her position, yes, but also to secure Clarke's. To secure Clarke's people's pace among the thirteen.
And they were not done lightly. The shadows hung in Lexa's eyes, swept through her soul. She wasn't a fan of fighting dirty, Clarke knew. Give her a sword and a sand pit any day over politics and slight-of-hand negotiations. She would sleep better at night, Clarke also knew. Though nightmares rarely touched upon her, there wasn't much slumber to be had for her lover. She was never far from waking, never more than an arm's reach from her ornate dagger. Her nightmares existed in her waking hours, powerful enough to pull her from sleep at the creak of a door, Clarke knew.
And so Clarke did not question her on these matters. Other things, yes, Clarke wouldn't abide. No, she would not agree with cutting out the tongue of a young Asgeda who had mocked her inferior knowledge of Trikru custom during the Festival of Light. Mutilation does not an appropriate punishment make for the offence of mockery. "Too much!" she had insisted. "Skikru needed to be stronger than mockery, above simple words from simple boys," her words had said. Her eyes spoke of different reasons, of this being one of those times in which, yes, Lexa had been letting her affection dictate her actions rather than her intelligence.
These things forced Clarke to remember just who Lexa had truly been raised to be. A leader, a visionary, a killer. She was known to be merciless far and wide, she kept her people strong, her collation alive. She even forced the great Wanheda into submission, Skikru to join her ranks. This Heda had accomplished the unachievable and ushered in an era of peace for not only Trikru but allclans.
Well, Clarke thought, we'll see who'll be submitting tonight. And smirked.
Terrified as she was of her lover's methods at times, she couldn't deny the heat that claimed her watching her ferocity in action.
Lexa was leaning over her great war table, posture rigid, aggression aimed at the ambassador of Asgeda.
Clarke crossed her legs, an attempt to ease the delicious discomfort settling between her legs at the view of Lexa's shapely behind. She stared, transfixed, as visions flitted in and out of her mind of times she wishes she could call forth to more substance than just memory. The firm smoothness that drew her hands when Lexa settled herself in her lap, as she often did in an attempt to convince Clarke that, "no, she is not a bottom," and yes she is because even when she is on top, gyrating and rutting against her thigh, her hip, her hand, when her breath is quick and her hands tight against the curve of Clarke's neck and waist - she is right where Clarke wants her. And every so often Clarke will interrupt her rhythm with a squeeze, firm and hard, just to prove it to her. I can make you move just the way I want you to, when I want you to. And Lexa will grunt, in pleasure Clarke's sure, before growling hard and hot in her ear to mask just how much Clarke's control makes her wet.
And it makes Clarke hot. These noises she lives for. The indecipherable language that they share. She needs it and she wants it and she'll take it any chance she can get. And get it she will. Tonight. Because she can't wait any more.
Lexa had been stuck in meetings day in and day out. If it wasn't a dispute between this clan and that clan it was preparations for a festival or a scouting party urgently requiring attention. Well Clarke urgently required attention, it had been days since she'd last felt the slide of Lexa's tongue against her, last felt her fingers within her, last came to pieces before her, and she would be damned if she waited any longer.
She huffed out a breath, giving her legs a squeeze together one more time to quell her growing frustration at even just the outline of Lexa's exquisite breasts. She long-
"Are we boring you, Skikru?" Osha spat in her direction. Osha, Boat-Clan ambassador. Usually they were one of the more civil clans. What had she missed?
Clarke schooled her features, impassive, and looked toward Osha, "Excuse me?" She feigned haughty, but her heart pounded against her ribcage.
"You may huff for as much as you please Skikru, but were the River-Clans impeding on your territory you would not as easily tire of discussions." Osha angrily drove her dagger into the table before her.
"I didn't-" Clarke began.
"Insolence! The newest clan cannot even tolerate discussions if it does not concern her own people!"
Anger sparked a small flame inside her and burned her with shame. Osha was right, she should have been paying more attention, but to call her out in front of all of the other clans? Clarke couldn't tolerate it, not in this culture where subservience meant weak. Right or wrong it was Clarke's duty to defend any attacks to Skikru at this table. She glanced at Lexa, quick as she could, to gage her reaction to the situation at hand.
Expressionless of course, her poker-face practised to perfection. She did however notice the way emerald eyes burned. They ached to defend their love, itched to pull tongue from mouth, heart from chest, doubt from mind. But she couldn't. Fight, Klark, they said, show them you belong here.
Clarke didn't need to be told twice. It just helped her to know they were on the same page.
"How dare the boat-clan make such an accusation when we have devoted most of the afternoon to their needs!" Clarke bluffed, having devoted most of the afternoon to her own needs fuelled by thoughts of the war paint itching to be smudged under fingertips. "Skikru are patient beyond measure with this trivial issue! You're fighting over a piece of land you don't really want, as you've told this council yourself on many occasions. You want it now that the River-Clan can use it. It's childish! Your land is waterlogged. There's no way we can fix that, you just need to accept it. It's too shallow for your people to cultivate. The River-Clan have expertise putting shallower depths to greater purpose. You're denying them the possibility of progressing because you're stubborn."
Osha's face had by degrees begun to redden.
Not good, Clarke thought, stand your ground but don't paint a target on yourself for fuck's sake.
Clarke softened her tone. "Why don't you use it to your advantage, Osha?"
She held her breath and waited for Osha to take the bait. Osha glared at her with hard unforgiving eyes. "How?" Derision leaked from her tone.
"Bargain." Clarke smirked at Osha, feigning an inside joke between the two. Comradery, Clarke had found since coming to Earth, was more about pretence than actual deed in many cases. It helped that Osha had never been a forerunner in marking Clarke as an outsider. "Surely the River-Clan will be willing to trade for their use of your land? Perhaps even willing to compensate you to call the territory their own?"
Osha smiled.
Even Agar, River-Clan ambassador, looked relieved. Clarke's spine relaxed, though she could still feel the lick of sweat that had settled there in her nervous state. She glanced at Lexa and caught the proud smirk soon to be hidden behind the mask of impassivity. Excitement pooled between Clarke's legs at the hidden communication, just for her. It wouldn't be long before she would be the one to wipe the smirk of Heda's lips.
Lexa sighed quietly turning onto the corridor of her room. She kept her face impassive, as usual, lest the guards positioned outside see the exhaustion creep into her expression. It would not be appropriate.
She pulled one foot in front of the other automatically letting her mental map drive her forward. She was much too tired to put any conscious effort into where she was going. There was one door she needed to get to and, mercifully, not many opportunities at this point for anyone to intercept her.
It had been a full day, overly full, were she truly honest. In the same way a cup of wine will overflow with a too generous pour so had her efficiency. By the time her last meeting of the night had rolled around she had been able to do little but stare intimidatingly at her generals. It was a shame. Of all the political discussions she was forced to participate in it was her generals she usually had the most patience for. But this had not just been a long day, this had been a long day upon previous long days. Lexa was tired, burnt out, exhausted. And she was horny.
She had participated in the morning training with the young Nightbloods, as was her pleasure once per week at least while she resided in Polis. She enjoyed this immeasurably, had always been a fan of exercising in the morning. It was the perfect way to start the day. Get the blood pumping. Perhaps even get the aggression pumping for her noon meeting with the ambassadors. They would undoubtedly have some tedious issues that would require her wisdom. For as much as she enjoyed spending time teaching the younger generation of the intricacies of combat and defence, of strategy and politics, and watch the wonder on their faces as they looked upon her with pride and awe, she hated executing it in a stuffy room surrounded by people who did little more than whine about their problems and let others fight for their cause.
Never once had she been graced by the presence of an ambassador on the battlefield.
None of them aside from Clarke. Though perhaps even Clarke did not know this. She frequently appeared flustered when challenged inside that room. Often in the beginning the challenge would be so intense that Lexa herself would have to step in, just as soon as it crossed the border from the capabilities of Skikru to questioning the decision of letting them join the coalition. That could not be tolerated. Skikru must find itself a position among the clans and defend itself, but it was young and inexperienced and until it had grasped the game it must be supported. This is what Lexa's political mind told her, but her heart told her that Clarke needed the support herself. She could only let her people go so far in challenging her lover until her patience broke. Clarke had given too much to her people to be bullied by a collection of frauds, in Lexa's opinion. She hadn't taken joy in administering discipline to the more outspoken representatives, but Clarke had soon learned to stand on her own. And the balance of power remained firmly where it needed to be.
Clarke, Lexa had to admit, had come into her own in the past six weeks or so. She now longer cowed from a fight. She stood up for herself and her clan the way an ambassador should. It might not involve a gun, Lexa frowned in disgust at the thought ofSkikru weapon, but Clarke had the ability to fight her own battles, as she had proven today in the second of Lexa's five meetings.
Watching Clarke interact with the rest of her ambassadors was, well, exciting. She had viewed the altercation with half glimpses each side of the argument, not wanting to appear too involved. Truth be told she cared little for the meat of the argument. But the way it was played sent a jolt of pleasure right between Lexa's thighs. Clarke had looked to her for approval before engaging Osha, something that was immeasurably valuable to her. For other clans to see her held in reverence was something that Lexa could not fabricate. It was something that could only be given, and give Clarke did, and hot Lexa was for this.
It usually takes more for Lexa to be anything other than focused, but in the time Clarke has sat at her table Lexa has found her attention harder and harder to command. The increase in her heartbeat, the rise in her temperature, the tingle in her stomach, the ache between her thighs – they could all be attributed to the blonde who sat three people to her left. And that was the way she liked it. The way she wanted it. She'd gone to lengths to protect it and for as long as she formed rational thought it would be where Skikru sat, right where the afternoon sun shone perfectly upon glistening lips and illuminated strange sky undergarments through her shirt. Lexa would never tire of the image of the glowing curls tumbling into her ample cleavage. Had she not be raised to contain such reactions she was sure she would be drooling halfway through the meeting. And when Clarke rose to defend her people, well Lexa could hardly contain herself, grateful that her position lent her the comfort of crossed legs as heat poled in her belly and her eyes trailed over the edges of the v-neck her lover teased her with.
But that was three meetings and twelve hours ago. Lexa was now tired beyond exhaustion. She nodded curtly to the warriors positioned outside of her door and wasted no time in making her way inside. As soon as she heard the latch click into place behind her she shed her coat, boots and trousers, intent on burying herself in furs and Clarke's warmth as soon as possible. Her plan was soon recalculated when she realised her furs did not house a certain blonde as expected. Frowning into her pillow Lexa spared a thought for where her favourite ambassador could be, but before it could carry her from bed in search, the woman in question landed on her back, chest pressed enticingly against her.
"You're home," Clarke breathed against her neck beginning a campaign of feather-light kisses that sent tingles down to Lexa's toes.
Lexa took a steadying breath, trying to reconcile her need for sleep for her need of Clarke's lips, "I am. No more meetings for a whole day," she mumbled barely coherent, enjoying Clarke's ministrations immeasurably.
"Lexa's day of rest," Clarke chuckled, hooking a leg between her own sprawled legs.
"Mmm rest," Lexa moaned into her pillow, but moved her head to allow Clarke greater access.
Clarke brought her thigh up between them, pressing into Lexa from behind. Lexa moaned. "Well I hope tomorrow will be good enough for you, cause I have plans tonight."
"Plans?" Lexa groaned pushing back against Clarke's strong leg.
"Yeah," Clarke whispered, into her ear, moving to nibble on her lobe, "I planned on fucking my girlfriend senseless tonight."
Lexa's eyes shot open and excitement shot through her core, coating her pants in moisture. Dirty Skikru words, Clarke knew she had a weakness for them. But exhaustion pulled at the edges of her mind. She wanted to sleep, but she wanted relief too. It had been days after all. She untangled herself and turned flipped over in the bed, meeting Clarke's blazing blue gaze. The fire in her stare made Lexa's mind up and she shot upward meeting Clarke's mouth in a clash of teeth and lips and tongue, exhaustion be damned. She had thought of nothing more for most of the day than the feel of Clarke's expert fingertips filling her again and again and again. She wrapped her leg around Clarke's hips and pulled her into a position Lexa had found particularly useful for facilitating her relief and began a rhythm for both her and Clarke, sliding one leg between the blonde's.
Fair is fair. But she was certainly of a mind set her own pace as standard tonight.
Her hands roamed along Clarke's side, pushing her shirt up and over her shoulders and she did. Clarke wasn't wearing her strange, complicated, sexy Skikru undergarments she usually did. To satisfy her disappointment Lexa instead palmed a handful of Clarke's breast and buried the other hand in Clarke's copious blonde locks, guiding the younger girl's mouth to her own, desperate for contact with the lips she had witnessed abused by teeth all day.
Clarke was rather hoping to be in control of the situation at this stage. She wanted Lexa writing beneath her, but it seemed in Lexa's exhaustion she had decided to take exactly what she needed from Clarke, grinding into her thigh in hard and fast strokes. Clarke's breathing was becoming ragged with the rhythm Lexa was setting.
Too soon, too soon, too soon!
Lexa manoeuvred down her body to take a nipple into her warm, inviting mouth and Clarke nearly lost her reason. If not for the change in pressure against her clit she may not have found the strength within her to pull away, sit up, and give her control of her hands again rather than hovering over her exhausted partner.
Lexa's brow furrowed and her lip pouted as Clarke sat up, pulling her to join. "What're you-"
"Shh," Clarke soothed pulling the commander's shirt up and over her head and busying herself with planting soft kisses along her shoulder as she unwound the older girl's bindings. Lexa's head lolled in the opposite direction, too tired to fight her lover. She would an arm around Clarke's back to hold herself up. It had been a long day after all, and she didn't have to be Heda when she was with Clarke. It was nice to give into the will of others sometimes and letting Clarke guide their lovemaking was one of her favourite acquiesces.
She would never tell Clarke this.
Clarke shifted their positions so that Lexa once again lay flat against the surface of the bed. She felt her hands in her hair, threading through the blonde curls. It felt amazing when Lexa played with her hair. Shot electricity through her whole body, electricity that settled itself right between her legs and God, did she know what that tugging was doing to her? Clarke kissed her from her throat to her breasts. They were smaller than her own, than others' she'd been with, but they were perfect. The pert pink nipples hardening on soft flesh impulsively drew her to circle them with fingers, with tongue. She couldn't help herself. It was Lexa, it was flawless, and she was hers. She heard the other girl groan at the scrape of her teeth and instinctively ground down onto her thigh. She was losing control, and she needed to regain it. This was for Lexa right now, she couldn't be selfish.
She could, but she shouldn't. She wouldn't. Lexa's day had been much longer than her own.
She held a hand to Lexa's throat in an attempt to keep her head from cropping up and participating as it had begun to. She would not be distracted by the softness of Lexa's lips, Clarke had a mission. And the restraint would only serve to make Lexa wetter for her, she knew.
Clarke withdrew her hand and made her way down Lexa's abdomen, kissing sporadically along her defined abs. She loved her abs, but they were not the primary goal tonight and Clarke was further along than she'd like to admit after days of not indulging what had become an almost nightly pleasure between them. She parted Lexa from her pants as soon as she had room and settled herself between her legs, using the time to plant hickeys along her thighs. She had thought it was just her so acutely affected by the intensity between them, but as soon as she heard the guttural, "beja Klark, beja," she knew she had her right where she wanted her.
It wasn't a common occurrence that Lexa reverted to Trigedasleng in Clarke's presence outside of meetings, and she had learned that Lexa meant what she said in these instances.
Far be it from Clarke to deny her lover. She slowly swiped her tongue up from her entrance, gathering as much moisture as she could from the ample amount gathered there to her clit, where she spent much attention licking just how she knew her Heda liked it.
Lexa buried her hands more purposefully in Clarke's hair, keeping her in the exact spot she needed her lover to focus her movements. She knew her playful lover had a tendency to tease, to build her up beyond measure and let her fall back to earth without release only to repeat again and again and again. And she couldn't do it tonight, Lexa needed release. Lucky for her Clarke didn't seem to be in much of a teasing mood and swirled her tongue just right against her and Lexa saw stars and they each had an imprinted image of Clarke between her thighs upon them.
Pleasure curled tight and low in Lexa's belly at Clarke's attentions and she groaned because could there be anything better in this world than a princess of the sky giving pleasure with her tongue?
Lexa squeezed her thighs together at the thought and tightened her hold upon Clarke's curls.
Clarke moaned at the increase in pressure on her hair and felt Lexa's thighs begin to quake at the sensation. Quickly Clarke inserted two fingers into her, truly intent on fucking her girlfriend to release.
Lexa growled at the feeling of Clarke's fingers pumping into her and arched her back off the bed, helping, unconsciously, Clarke to angle her fingers just so and God and she quivered and quaked in Clarke's arms as she came undone for her.
Clarke continued to lick at her girlfriend's clit as she felt her shake and tight squeeze her thighs around her. Though it disrupted the rhythm of her fingers Clarke kept them in place, enjoying the contraction of Lexa's muscles around her. Once Lexa had settled Clarke glanced upward past glistening abdomen and heaving chest to rest on her lover's face peaceful and sated. Emerald eyes met cobalt as Clarke licked her fingers and climbed toward her love for a kiss that she longed to have.
They tasted each other for several minutes, playing dominance through teeth and tongue, but rarely hands or legs. Lexa, exhausted and sated as she was, to her credit, didn't miss a beat. She was aware that her girlfriend desired to "top" the Skikru term for the one that takes the lead in bed, but she was not yet sated as she herself was. Truth be told, Lexa loved it when Clarke topped. It had been a long time since anyone had challenged her, let alone her winning such a challenge. And Clarke did it in such a way that made Lexa ache for more.
She pushed Clarke up by the shoulders and wrapped her arms around her hips, pulling her forward firmly so that from her position lying below her she had full access to the treasure she sought.
Understanding dawned on Clarke's face and she groaned in pleasure as Lexa pulled her forward and she inched up the bed little by little to straddle the commander's face. Clarke loved this position, loved that she had control over the position of her body and back as it arched into Lexa's expert touch. Loved the view of the darker girl's ministration that it afforded her. Loved watching Lexa secure her mouth around Clarke's clit as she did right now and Clarke dipped her head back, the only thing grounding her being Lexa's left hand as it wrapped firmly around her hip. Her other hand was steadily making its way toward her entrance and inserting one-
Two
Fingers into her and she groaned, loud and hard, gyrating against Lexa's mouth as she pumped in and out of her, an ever increasing rhythm. She looked downward, a groan escaping her mouth every time Lexa's fingers hit home and
A third!
Clarke's eyes rolled into her head and she gripped the headboard in front of her, unable to maintain her balance with only the help of Lexa's arm any more as Lexa fucked her with an increasing pace and green eyes flashed up to meet her own as she sucked her clit into her mouth and lathered it with attention from her delectable tongue.
Tingles crept up and down Clarke's spine as she felt her climax fast approaching. Faster than she would have liked, but proud at the same time of her ability to last as long as she had with the fierce, ruthless leader of the ground between her legs. She moaned, and moaned and moaned, "Lexa! Don't stop, don't-"
She didn't. She wouldn't ever. If this was the place Clarke wanted her she'd stay here for the rest of her life and die a happy, honourable death. But Clarke couldn't take it for it wasn't long before her groans became more high-pitched, Lexa's fingers slipped more and more freely in with the wetness that was Klark.Walls convulsed and thighs trembled and breathing hitched and Clarke collapsed against her with soft pressure.
It was several seconds of recovery before Clarke moved and settled herself in Lexa's arms, pressing kisses to Lexa's lips.
"I shall plan late meetings more often," Lexa breathed into the space between them with a small laugh, nuzzling the younger girl's neck.
"Don't you dare," Clarke chuckled, "I need consistent attention or your ass might get me murdered by an offended ambassador."
Lexa smiled, not on her watch.
Thanks for reading guys! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! If ya liked it, drop a review. Love some feedback on my writing style! I haven't done much writing outside of academia for a while now.
Katie
