I Wish to Make All the Difference (With My Hands on Your Skin)
Pairing: Clexa
Rating: Children be Wary (K+)
Notes: Another oneshot for my Masked!Clarke AU. If you haven't read the prequels to this, You Ask My Name (And All I do is Listen), and, You Know My Name (And Now I Speak), do so. otherwise this wont make that much sense.
She sat idly, twirling a scalpel about her fingers with practiced ease. If anyone who didn't know her watched as she flipped the small blade, they would think she was the picture of calm. However, a storm raged within her, contained only by tense shoulders and the rhythm of the spinning knife. She was waiting patiently, or as patiently as she could be, for her, undoubtedly injured, Commander to return home; for Lexa to return home.
The conflict along the Trikru/Azgeda border had escalated over the two months that she had resided within the tower, drawing Lexa further and further from the safety of Polis each time. What made it worse was that, because she wasn't a warrior, or technically an official healer of the army, she couldn't follow, no matter how much she wanted to. Once learning of these road blocks, she had taken strides to become an official healer, working in the clinics around the capitol, but progress had been frustratingly slow.
Lexa had also forced her to begin training with several of her top warriors. The brunette girl was determined to have Clarke be able to defend herself effectively when the Commander herself wasn't there, something the masked healer had found unbelievably endearing. While in the beginning it had been exhausting and painful, the blonde had grown to enjoy it. The exercise made her stronger, and the training made her more skilled, and the fact that she could watch Lexa train with her guard's while she took her breaks made it more pleasurable as well. On the field, Lexa was stunning. A whirlwind of calm fury and flashing blades. Watching her was certainly a sight to behold.
Clarke was drawn from her thoughts at the sound of a war horn, signalling the return of her Commander, blasting from the gates to the capitol. Twirling the scalpel one last time, she lay it gently among the rest of her supplies. On the table in Lexa's sitting area lay bandages, salves, needle and thread, among other things, that Clarke knew she would need eventually; if one healing tool wasn't used today, it was most certainly going to be used the next time. Standing from where she had been lounging on one of the couches, she padded over to the adjoined bathroom. Dipping her finger tips into the cool water of the tub, she reached for a pair of coal tongs. Within the brazier in the main room sat several large stones, almost red hot from their time nestled in the glowing flames. Gripping one firmly with the tongs, she moved it to the tub, dropping the scorching stone into the chill water. Immediately the water hissed and boiled, instantly raising the waters temperature to almost scalding.
Removing the stone from the water, she returned it to the brazier to heat again. With a bath prepared, she made her way over to the door leading to the hall. Before leaving Lexa's chambers, she lifted her wooden mask back to her face. During her time at the tower, it had been her constant companion. If it wasn't on her face, it was hanging around her neck on leather ties, or gripped tightly in her hand. While she had grown more comfortable in taking it off, certain she wouldn't be caught unawares in places such as Lexa's chambers or her own rooms, she still felt the need to have it near, almost like a security blanket of sorts.
She and Lexa had had a very lengthy conversation about it about a month before. Late at night, in the darkness of the Commanders room, laying side by side on the bed. That day, Kane, the Skykru ambassador, had come to negotiate for more land to farm in exchange for some of the harvest. Clarke had stood behind Lexa's throne, off to the side, observing unnoticed. The talks had been civil. No mention of the supposedly AWOL blonde at all. That is until the very end.
Hesitantly, Kane had asked if the Commander or any of her warriors had seen or heard anything about her whereabouts. Clarke had stiffened slightly, heart suddenly beating much too fast to be healthy; her eyes glued to Lexa, awaiting her answer. After a pause, Lexa had responded, making the disguised blonde breath a sigh of relief as she denied any knowledge of her location. Once Kane had left, looking a bit defeated, Lexa had turned to her, raising her eyebrow and giving a wordless signal that they would have to talk about these events later.
That night, they had discussed her disguise. How long was she going to keep it, what did she want in the long term, etc. Clarke knew that she couldn't be Oyen forever. While she greatly enjoyed the anonymity as well as the closeness she had achieved with Lexa, to live like this forever wasn't an option. Her identity would become known eventually, whether she liked it or not, so she wanted it to be on her terms. But until she was ready, she would continue as she had been, as Oyen the mute healer of the Commander.
Sighing deeply, she opened the door to the hall. Two guards stood to attention as she poked her head from the rooms confines. One of them, a man named Julius, turned to her, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Lifting her hands from their position gripping the door jam, she began to sign her message.
Working in the clinics had taught her much, but not any other skill as valuable as sign language had proven to be. Not only did it allow her to communicate in her silent persona, but it let her become closer to, and communicate better with, many of her patients, despite still not being the best at it. Many throughout Polis had disabilities that the hand language worked around, from those born deaf or mute, to those who had lost hearing from old age or accidents, it was truly a skill worth learning.
After signing out her question slowly so the guard could understand her, he nodded and replied.
"The Commander should be here soon. A messenger came about ten minutes ago saying she was almost at the tower."
As Clarke signed her thanks, she heard the tell tale clanking of the ancient lift, announcing the arrival of the Towers name sake. Leaning out further into the hall, she watched as the lifts doors opened, unveiling Lexa in all her post battle glory. While to the casual observer she appeared fierce and strong, covered in blood and bruises, back straight as she strode forward, Clarke could see the pain she was in. The older girl hunched slightly to the side, one shoulder dropping below the other. 'Probably dislocated.' The masked healer noted as she watched the brunette come closer. She could see bruises along her jaw, dark swirling masses of blues and greens and yellows. The rest of her injuries were covered by her armour, but she was without a doubt in great pain.
Clarke straightened as the other girl neared the door. Clasping her hands behind her, she stood to the side, allowing passage into the candle lit room. She swallowed as Lexa passed, aching to touch the other girl, to give her comfort in her pain, to help her return to being as strong as she normally was, but the guards were still watching silently. With a shaky exhale, she moved to enter the room, but a gentle hand on her shoulder gave her pause. Turning to the owner of the hand, she looked up at the sympathetic face of the other guard, a woman named Jas.
"Take care of her, alright? She may hide it well, and no one speaks of it, but she is in pain and deserves rest just like everyone else."
A swell of affection filled her at the guard's words, bringing a smile to her masked face. Over the last two months, the guards had gotten used to her coming and going at odd hours, watching silent and unjudging as she carried armfuls of medical supplies into the Commanders room after large and small battles. Because she couldn't do much else without revealing herself, she had taken to doing small things to help ease the great burden of leadership from Lexa's shoulders. Whether it be bringing food in the mornings or bandaging wounds after combat, she was determined to help in whatever way she could, and such things seemed to have given her favour with the guards around the tower.
Nodding, she gripped the woman's shoulder, showing her understanding. Tonight, she would make sure Lexa was taken care of and undisturbed. Turning back to the room, she padded inside, the doors closing behind her. The sight of Lexa sprawled on the couch, arm thrown over her war painted eyes, with her boots and coat still on, made her sigh sadly. With careful steps, she silently made her way to the couch.
Slipping her mask off, letting it hang about her neck on its ties, she kneeled down next to the supine brunette. With quick fingers, she untied the laces on the other girl's boots, and eased them from her feet. Lexa gave no resistance as she worked, removing each boot, and then every weapon that she had easy access to.
"Lex, I need you to sit up."
The words were spoken softly in an attempt to maintain the calm quiet that had descended over the room. With a groan that bordered on a whimper, the exhausted warrior sat up, throwing her legs over the edge of the couch to steady herself. Clarke continued her work, removing weapons and the layers of armour that swathed a beaten body. As she did so, she examined the other girl, taking in her furrowed brow, eyes clouded by pain, and wincing at the mottling of bruises that were revealed each time an item of clothing was removed. Finally, down only to a pair of leggings and a thin undershirt, Clarke eased the brunette back so she relaxed against the couch. Luckily, it seemed the only severe injury her patient had was her arm, although the bruising was extensive.
"I can tell just by looking at you that your shoulder is dislocated."
A tense nod was her response.
"I'm going to have to reduce it, okay?"
Another tense nod.
Sliding on to the couch next to the other girl, she gently prodded the dislocated joint. It didn't seem like a severe dislocation. Just one that was painful. Positioning the afflicted arms elbow at ninety degrees, she slowly began to move it back into position. In an attempt to distract the other girl from any pain, she began to talk.
"I kept up training while you were gone. Nerva says that I could use some work with swords, but I've become rather good at using knives. I managed to hit the centre of a target from twenty yards."
She continued to chatter, watching as a, tight, tired smile spread across Lexa's lips. A subtle pop and the older girl stiffening, a choked breath escaping her throat, signaled the relocation of the injured joint. Carefully keeping the elbow bent at ninety degrees, she tucked the arm close to Lexa's chest, before drawing the rigid girl into a soft embrace. Lexa was a sensual person, craving touch at almost all times, but rarely was able to take part in it, so whenever she could, Clarke would hug the other girl, especially during times of healing. Feeling the tension almost drain from the brunette's frame, Clarke slowly rubbed circles into her back.
"I have a bath for you once you're ready, but I recommend getting in soon, before the water cools."
A low groan escaped the older girl, but she nodded, eyes closed as she enjoyed the feeling of arms around her. Smiling softly, Clarke rested her cheek on the top of Lexa's head. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of blood and sweat that came off the other girl, but was completely content to continue holding her.
After a few minutes of silence, Lexa sighed deeply and moved to stand, holding her arm close to her chest. The young healer stood with her, staying close as she hobbled to the bathroom. The water, that had earlier been scalding, had cooled to a good temperature, cool enough that it didn't hurt, but still hot enough that it left the skin with a pleasant burning feeling.
With little hesitation, Lexa stripped out of her remaining clothes. Nudity had little affect on them now. Any discomfort had quickly been dispelled during the first time Clarke had treated Lexa for more severe injuries than just a few bruises. The healer suppressed a shiver at the memory of the other girl, laying still on a table, two arrows piercing deeply into her shoulder and hip. While they hadn't hit anything vital, removing them had been a painful process. Suppressing more shivers, she helped the injured girl into the steaming water. The brunette stifled a blissful moan as she rested her head on the tubs edge.
Chuckling slightly, Clarke gathered a comb, a bowl, a smaller tub filled with lukewarm water and a bottle of oily shampoo. As Lexa reclined, her aching muscles soothed by the waters glorious heat, the blonde healer sat on a low stool behind her. Once she rolled up her long sleeves, she began removing the older girl's long braids. With quick practiced fingers, she unwove the intricate hairstyle, freeing the brown locks from their confines, each strand crackling with dried blood and dirt.
Placing the smaller tub underneath, she filled the bowl with water, and slowly poured it over the dirt filled mane. She did this several times, soaking it thoroughly, completely uncaring that her own tunic was getting soaked by the back splash. Setting the bowl aside, she grabbed the shampoo, pouring a liberal amount on her open palm. After rubbing her hands together to create a nice lather, she began working it into the brown tresses. She couldn't help but smile as Lexa groaned in appreciation as she massaged her scalp, scratching lightly with blunt nails. It made Clarke happy that she could make the other girl feel pleasure in such a way.
After rinsing her hands of the soapy excess in the smaller tub, she picked up the bowl once again. Gathering more water, she poured it over the mass of lather and hair in front of her, watching as the dirt, blood and soap drained away. With a few more passes of the bowl, the water ran clear. With that she picked up the comb, and began running it through the tangles that remained. For several minutes she picked through the knots, and only once the comb slide through the strands with ease did she stop. After getting up and putting away the bowl, comb, and shampoo, and setting the smaller tub filled with dirty water by the door for the hand maidens to retrieve, she went and kneeled next to Lexa's limp form. The fierce warrior had melted into a puddle of loose, aching limbs and delightfully blushed skin.
Retrieving a cloth, Clarke gently cradled the exhausted Commander's relaxed face, and lightly wiped away the war paint and blood that coated her features. With each tender swipe, a new patch of clear skin emerged, until all that was left was Lexa. Green eyes blinked open as she finished, clouded by fatigue.
"You ready to get out yet?"
The water had cooled significantly since the brunette had entered, so the healer knew that even if she refused at this instant it wouldn't be long. The older girl pressed her face against the blonde's palm, nodding as she did so. With a wince and a groan, Lexa sat up, holding her arm to her chest as she clambered out of the tub. Shudders made her limbs quiver and gooseflesh to erupt along her arms as the chill air attacked her warm skin. Clarke draped a large towel across her shoulders, pulling it tightly around her shivering frame. Quickly, the blond guided the injured warrior to the main room. It was far warmer than the bathroom, considering the brazier that had been burning for most of the evening.
She quickly sat her charge down on the bed, wrapping a large fur around the brunette to keep her warm for the time being. With that she quickly crossed to the dresser and selected a night gown. One that was light and wouldn't press on any injuries too much, but was woven tightly to keep in heat. While the majority of winter was over, spring nights could still get rather cold.
Having retrieved the gown, she returned to Lexa, who had remained where the blonde had placed her, staring off into space. The brunette's eyes were glassy, and her skin pale. She was obviously exhausted, but Clarke needed to tend to the bruising before she could let her rest. After laying the gown on the bed beside the injured girl, she went and gathered her salves for bruises, and a sling to mobilize the warriors injured arm. Returning to Lexa's side, she set down her items on the side table.
With a gentle hand, she brushed strands of still dripping hair from the other girl's forehead, feeling a combination of sympathy and pity as blank eyes stared back at her. As strong as Lexa was, she had her limits, both physically and emotionally. Clarke wasn't certain what happened on the battle field, but for the Commander to react in such a way, she must have lost some of her warriors in the fight.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
She asked in a low voice, as she combed her fingers through damp hair. The blonde knew she would talk when she was ready, but sometimes it took a little prompting to make Lexa remember she didn't have to hide her feelings from the healer. A slight shake of the brunette's head told her that any discussion would wait till later, thus, she began administering salves.
Bruises littered Lexa's body, covering her skin in dark blotches. Several stood out starkly on the pale skin of her stomach, shaped suspiciously like fists, while another covered her collar bone, spanning all the way up her neck to the curve of her jaw. Other, smaller, bruises dotted her legs and arms, and a large one marred her lower back. Salve was quickly applied with light touches, making sure not to cause more pain than necessary.
Once all the bruises were attended to, Clarke grabbed the night gown and slowly coaxed the aching girl into it. Lexa's muscles had relaxed significantly after the bath, but they were still tense enough to make movement difficult. Normally, Clarke would have gotten some oil and massaged out any of the kinks that she could, but with how many deep bruises Lexa had, the blonde didn't want to put her through the pain it would cause. Now clad in the night gown, Clarke eased the warriors injured arm into the sling, and strapping it to her chest so it wouldn't move and possibly damage the muscles surrounding the strained joint.
With injuries sufficiently tended to, Lexa lay back on the bed. A deep sigh escaped her as she attempted to relax sore limbs. Slowly, she curled onto her side with a low groan. Clarke watched as she did so, a sad smile on her face. Lexa was in so much pain, but she was alive and healing, and that was all that mattered.
Grabbing the fur that had been discarded in favour of the night gown, she lay the fluffy skin over the older girl. As she made to pull away, a hand shot out to grip her wrist lightly. Looking down, she saw two pleading emerald eyes staring back at her. Acknowledging the unspoken message with a nod, Clarke turned to blow out the nearest candles. The grip on her wrist slackened, allowing her to move about the room, extinguishing the flickering light sources. Only when a few were left, did she return to the bed.
Shucking her boots off unceremoniously, then stripping off her still soaking shirt, and finally placing her mask on the side table, she crawled into bed behind Lexa. With slow movements, in an attempt not to jostle the other girls arm, she wrapped her arms around the brunette's torso, drawing her near.
After caring for her a few times, Clarke had learned that Lexa preferred being the little spoon. It gave her a sense of security, knowing someone she trusted protected her back as she slept. Now fully flush with the older girls back, the blonde pressed her face into the small space between her shoulder blades.
While the warrior hadn't said anything, much to proud to directly ask her to stay, Clarke understood. Lexa was exhausted. Her emotions were pulled taught and ready to snap, and physically she was in a great deal of pain. Whatever had happened while she was out fighting a war, it had taken a great toll. A toll that Clarke was more than happy to help pay.
Endnotes: If you want to talk with me about Fanfiction, or want updates on what im writing, follow my tumblr GillyTweed.