Lovers in a Dangerous Time
"What happens when all this is over?"
Clarke stood at the table, her fingers turning a metal cup half filled with wine. She glanced back over her shoulder, her expression carefully neutral.
Lexa put her own cup to her lips to buy time enough to think. The same query had crossed her mind countless times. They were unlikely allies and even unlikelier partners. She and Clarke were too alike – too driven, too stubborn and completely unprepared for what awaited them. There was no knowing what the coming days would bring, whether it be death, life, or the chance at something more.
After Costia's death she'd immersed herself in her duties, approaching every conflict with single-minded determination. Rather than grieving, she'd lifted her chin, straightened her shoulders, and steeled her gaze. Grounders grieved once the battle was over and her battles had only just begun. Such logic had worked for a while. During the long marches and days spent negotiating tactical manoeuvres there hadn't been time to let the grief in, but the nights were lonely, dark and cold without Costia at her side and there was no ignoring that ugly truth.
With the death of her dark-haired warrior the world had become black. She'd hardened her heart to it, swearing to never again allow someone close enough that their death would cause her this much pain. It was unbearable, debilitating even. And in rare the moments when she found herself alone in her tent, she would wrap her arms around her middle and bow beneath the weight of it, crying silent tears for those warm brown eyes she would never see again.
It was just as she'd begun to heal, just as she'd accepted that that sort of love would never again be part of her life, that she met Clarke. And with all her blond-haired, fearless fury she'd forced her to sit up and take notice. It was impossible not to notice her. Clarke was a force all her own, a natural born leader who attracted others by her strength and resilience. It wasn't arrogance that made her refuse to give up, it was her stubborn refusal to consider anything but success as an option. That reckless determination was what made her a great leader and it was a skill she envied.
That's how it'd started: envy, followed by begrudging tolerance, which led to gradual acceptance, until finally respect. She couldn't think of a single leader, Grounder or otherwise, that she'd rather stand side-by-side with in the coming battle. She would gladly fight and die by her side. That was the sort of leader she was, the sort of woman. And it was that awe and respect for a woman in every way her equal that cracked her heart open, just a sliver.
The way she'd fearlessly drank from that bottle, absolutely certain that her people hadn't filled it with poison, and the genuine concern in her eyes when she realized who the real traitor was, cracked her heart open just a little more. It was dangerous to allow it to happen and for a time she'd fought against it with every fiber of her being. But resisting the draw she felt towards Clarke was like trying to fight against the harrowing wind of a storm – completely futile.
Thoughts of the leader of the Sky people began to impose on her conscience when she considered battle strategies. While studying a map, her mind would wonder how Clarke would proceed. Would she take the forest route or navigate the river? Would she launch a surprise attack or develop an elaborate trap? Trouble was nothing about Clarke was predictable.
That unpredictability was what had led her to do what she'd done, to kiss her brazenly and without permission, because there was just a good a chance she'd refuse as accept and in that moment, with her breath caught fast in her lungs, she was willing to take the risk. And to her surprise, Clarke had kissed back. With her hand sliding lightly up her back, sending shivers jetting down her spine, she'd opened her mouth beneath hers and told her in no uncertain terms that she wanted this too.
Clarke wasn't ready. And she may even feel conflicted over her feelings for Bellamy (though she would never admit it). But there was no denying the connection they'd felt was real. The jolt of something that'd charged through their veins to shake them to their bones wasn't a thing of fantasy; it was as tangible and real as the soft brush of Clarke's lips against hers.
And while she didn't receive the answer she'd hoped for, she was satisfied with knowing that her feelings weren't unwelcome or one-sided. This was the start of something, something profound for each of them. Together, there wasn't a power in the world that could stop them. And with that kiss, for the briefest of moments, she allowed herself to imagine that life, one where she fought until her last breath with Clarke at her side, a life where she felt loved and whole and happy. She'd convinced herself long ago that such an existence could never be hers, but now…now…
She lifted her gaze to Clarke's and felt her heart jolt as it always did when their eyes met. Setting her cup aside, she exhaled a soft sigh and offered the barest hint of a smile.
"That is up to you, Clarke."
Clarke's face fell. She'd been hoping for an easy answer, someone to tell her what the right path was, but she had no intention of doing that. If Clarke wanted this, if this was her path, she must choose it of her own free will.
"But when you are ready," she added softly, noting the way the Sky girl's eyes darted suddenly, hopefully, back to hers. "I'll be here."
A shy smile pulled at one corner of Clarke's mouth and she tipped her head in the faintest of nods. Her relief was palpable as was her uncertainty when she replied even more softly, "I know."
Author's Note: This is my first shot at writing Clarke and Lexa. I absolutely love everything about how this relationship between them is playing out (so far). Reviews are most welcome!