Commander Snow
WORD: SNOW
Clarke sat up with pleasant sigh, arching her back slightly as she reached up to the heavens, a small groan escaping her lips as her back cracked. Suddenly, she shivered, and became aware of how her breath was visible and just how cold it was in her home in TonDC. She was only staying in the city for a few more days, a week at most, before she would accompany Lexa to Polis. Clarke couldn't be around her own people any longer, or at least for the time being. They were suffocating, always demanding her presence and vying for her attention and her affection. Some had even gone so far as to ask for her hand in marriage, and though they had done anything beyond telling her their name to deserve her hand.
As though she would actually say yes to some pampered boy from the Ark. Pfft as if. Clarke had a far superior person, woman, that was interested in her, and she was just as interested.
Clarke smiled at the thought of the Commander, her emotions welling up into a bomb within her chest, that was slowly filled with the affection, love, downright infatuation that Clarke had for the lethal leader. Soon, all of Clarke's emotions exploded with in her chest, filling her with the feelings she had caged beneath the iron door of an iron mask crafted from an iron will that had bloomed during a time of desperate, depressing, and damaging war. Now, all of those gloomy and grey emotions were conquered by brighter ones. They brought a smile to the blonde's lips, and a sparkle to her eyes that had not been there since she was a young girl. The sparkle had run and hidden, deep within her eyes only to be brought out during one of the most magical times of the year, during a magnificent time of peace and prosperity.
Clarke quickly hopped out of bed, knowing what her visible breath and chills meant. She slipped on casual grounder clothes. She donned a black long sleeve shirt, and brown breeches, desiring to later ride one of the horses through the snow to visit the twins and her other friends one last time. Over this, she donned a thick leather jacket made of pale leather and cloth with robust chest pockets and deep pockets for her hands. The jacket had intricate buttons made of steel that linked together only to be covered by a strip of leather and cloth that hid them from view. Clarke then wrapped a scarf of deep blue silk around her neck loosely, tucking the ends into her warm, flexible coat. Finally, the blonde pulled on her almost knee-high boots, just a shade darker then the brown of her breeches.
Fastening her belt on her hips as she left her temporary home in search of two things: Lexa, and food.
But as Clarke's stomach rumbled from beneath her jacket, she concluded that Lexa could wait a few more minutes in favor of sating her appetite.
After eating boiled Quail eggs in the company of Nyko, Clarke set out to find the lethal leader of the Grounders. She knew Lexa had no meetings that day, what with all of this lush snow coating the land like chilling blanket and many opting to sleep in during the cozy time of year. The Trigedakru worked hard almost every second of everyday, but during the winter months, patrols were short and rotated constantly, and the food stored came in plentiful bounds of varied options and flavors. Survival was the minimum they labored for, but now, they labored for more lavish options that they had ignored in favor of saved energy during war time.
Clarke reveled in the crunch of fresh snow beneath her expertly-crafted boots. The Sky People, her people, had boots as well, though they were no where near as warm or as comfortable as the boots the craftsmen of the Trigedakru could produce. The lack of experience was constantly made apparent among the Sky People, and if it were not for the Ark, their old metal husk, they would not survive long. Some could not even wield an axe without spraining a wrist or cutting themselves. The fact that they still tried to maintain an air of superiority when among Grounders made Clarke embarrassed to say that she came from the same place as them. Abby was one of a select few of Sky People that had dropped any facade of superiority to the Trigedakru, and had welcomed their ideas and methods with open arms.
It was sad, really. Just as Abby had begun to act more like a true mother, Clarke was leaving.
But hey, there were some benefits. One of them? Not being around as her mother and Kane began to flirt and date and do... other things.
Yeah, Clarke didn't want to be around for that.
Soon, Clarke caught site of a fiery red and gold sash that waved in the chilled wind, bits of crisp white snow sticking to its lower part, and she smiled in victory. Her victorious smile however, quickly morphed into one of soft adoration, and perhaps even love, as she realized what Lexa was doing.
The lean, lethal Commander of the Twelve Clans was facing off against half a dozen Grounder children all swaddled up in the warmest clothing their mothers could force them into. They all held snowballs of varying sizes, shapes and levels of success, and they had playfully evil grins on their faces, like the children that know that they've beaten an older kid at something.
Lexa was unfazed, and kept her torso behind a wooden shield that was strapped to her left forearm over a thick leather jacket, one that looked much like Clarke's own. In her right hand, Lexa held a well made snowball, and it was ready to be thrown. A playful glare was hammered into Lexa's eyes, only to be melted and reforged into a look of glee as she let out a war cry before launching her snowball, catching a young boy in the shoulder as he leaped to dodge it.
The boy slumped over, pretending to be dead for exactly three seconds before leaping up to throw a snowball at Lexa, who lifted up her shield to block. The snow ball exploded in a burst of white power against the smooth wooden shield, and Lexa let out an evil laugh.
"You will have to work harder to take down the mighty Commander of the Snows!" Lexa howled, laughing as the children let out adorable war crys akin to the fierce yips of a disgruntled pup. She usually wasn't like this, but these children had dubbed her Commander Snow, so why not go with it?
Clarke's smile grew wider as she watched Lexa weave about the small children, blocking and slapping them with handfuls of soft snow. The small children yet out fierce yells every time Lexa roared, blocking attacks and returning them with playful shots that made them dodge for nothing but laughs and slight exercise. Soon, and evil smile replaced Clarke's amused and adoring smile. She would help the kids defeat the Commander of the Snows.
So Clarke bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, holding a finger to her lips so the children wouldn't give her away. They all smiled evilly and crafted more snowballs, but didn't throw them. They would wait for Klok kom Skaikru to attack Commander Snow-Monster before they attacked.
Clarke pulled her arm back, and flung it forwards, launching the compact snowball right at Lexa's back, confident that it would hit its mark with ease.
So naturally, when Lexa spun to block the snowball with her shield, Clarke was positively stunned.
The Commander smirked at her, voice laced with smugness as she spoke to Clarke. "You must work harder than that, Klok kom Skaikru, if you wish to land a snowball on me."
Clarke lifted her chin up stubbornly, voice powerful and overly dramatic for the children, who watched in anticipation. "Oh, don't worry Leksa, your fight will be over soon enough, as my allies and I will succeed in taking you down before lunchtime." Clarke looked at her new young allies, rallying them up. "Will we not?!"
The young children let our fierce cries that, in actuality, weren't all that loud.
Together, Clarke and the children threw snowball after snowball at the seasoned Commander. Lexa dodged and blocked the snowballs seemingly without effort, but Clarke knew they would wear her down soon enough.
But suddenly, Clarke realized that all of the children had hidden behind their makeshift fort between two trees, and she had not a single snowball at the ready.
But Lexa did.
A playfully evil glint flashed in Lexa's dark emerald eyes, and Clarke glared in warning.
"Don't. You. Dare."
Lexa smirked, and hurled the snowball at the blonde, who dived to the floor to avoid the speeding snow. But Clarke didn't move fast enough, and the snowball caught her in the ribs.
The blonde clutched her side in false agony, crying out "Avenge me!"
Suddenly, the war cries of six children became the war cries of a dozen children, their ages ranging from six to twelve. They cried out together, and began to launch snowball after snowball at the Commander, until she was overwhelmed.
Lexa held up her hands, and the plethora of flying snowballs ceased. "I surrender. You have avenged Klok!"
The children cheered and giggled, racing out from behind their fort to dance around the Commander, who tackled the youngest and ruffled their hair before pulling a girl of six years onto her shoulders so she could reach up and inspect a squirrel hole from a safe distance. A moment later, she set the girl down, and moved to smile down at Clarke, who had gotten comfortable on the snow covered ground, having folded her hands behind her head. Two children, ages eight and twelve, had joined her, but the leaped up and joined the racing children not a moment later, somehow sensing how the two women needed a moment.
"Well, I must say, Clarke, you gained quite the few powerful allies today," Lexa teased.
Clarke nodded, "That I did, and we even managed to defeat the fierce Commander Snow."
Lexa chuckled, her smile warm and comforting as she gazed down at the woman that had somehow captured her heart. Clarke gestured for her to lay beside her, and Lexa quickly moved to mirror the blonde's position. Their elbows brushed together when Lexa folded her own gloved hands behind her head, and she looked at Clarke briefly before turning to look up at the sky, smiling brightly. She hadn't been this happy in a long, long time.
Neither realized that the children had begun running together, their deep imprints in the snow creating an almost perfect heart. Later in the day, a fire would be built at its center, and the children would play well into the day, and still, the heart would remain.
OH SO SAPPY AND FLUFFY. SOMEONE CALL THE FLUFF POLICE.
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