Hard to top drunk, horny Clarke but I did try my best. ;)


Clarke awoke bleary eyed and with all the makings of a massive hangover. At least, she thought that's what the terrible pounding in her skull signified. She had never been one to overindulge in alcohol, preferring to keep a calm and cool head at all times, so her experiences in this regard were rather limited. When she tried to reach up to touch her shattering skull, she found that her limbs were constricted by something. For a second she panicked at her immobility and squirmed around like a snake caught in a trap. Some logic returned and she looked down to find she was wrapped very tightly from head to toe in a large pelt of some sort. From this vantage point, all she could tell was that it was made out of something black, and considerably warmer than her own deer skin. In fact, with it this tightly wrapped around her, and the sun now thawing the night's cold away, she was positively burning up. And the more she focused on how hot she was, the more she realized she was sweating profusely, which led to the unsettling realization that she was completely unclothed!

"What the hell?" she murmured to herself, as she squirmed around some more. This still did not have the desired effect, so using some more of her limited faculties, she rolled sideways instead. Of course she overdid it and went straight off the bed, the landing jarring her bruised brain painfully, and coming to a stop several feet away. But she could live with this now that she had succeeded in freeing herself from the devilish constraints.

"Freedom," she sighed contentedly, spreading out eagle style on her stomach. She was so relieved to be freed and so not in the mood to move anymore that she simply stayed that way for awhile, enjoying the light breeze that played across her bare ass.

If not for her raging migraine, and the fact that she had to urinate horribly, she would have gratefully dozed off again. As it was, she forced herself up and blinked around for her clothes. They were neatly folded on her wooden chair. Clarke liked order in most respects, but by the end of the day she usually just tossed her outer coverings there and fell into bed.

"What the hell?" she said again with a frown.

Who had undressed her and then attended to her clothing so methodically?

She would have ruminated on this matter further but her bladder called insistently and she hastily threw her things on and stumbled out of the tent and into the glare of a thousand suns! Or so it seemed to Clarke in her current incapacitated state. She held her hand up against the evil sky being, silently cursing it, and stalked over to the nearest hole in the ground to do her business.

It took an insanely long time to relieve herself fully and by then other grounder women had shown up and were impatiently waiting. One of them ungraciously muttered something in Trigedasleng that she thought might have roughly translated to 'The Sky Princess has found her true throne.'

The other grounders laughed and after she was done she marched over to them and said, "The throne is all yours."

Judging by their taken aback expressions, she figured she had translated right, even as out of it as she was. Or perhaps they had no idea what she was talking about. In any case, she went back into her tent to get some relief from the sunny day and also try to piece together last night's events. Clarke plopped into her chair and closed her eyes in an effort to remember. She had drunk a little and danced with her friends around the bonfire. Then she had drunk some more at their insistence, a lot more come to think of it, and then...she wasn't really sure what happened next.

She thought maybe Bellamy had tried to kiss her at one point, but she couldn't be certain. She recalled the boys passing out right there around the dying bonfire and then she had gone somewhere by herself...but where was the question.

Clarke opened her blood shot eyes and studied the pelt on the floor. A big black bear skin. Who did she know who had something like that?

Slowly comprehension dawned through her sluggish brain.

Lexa.

A string of impressive swear words escaped her chapped lips as more and more of her misadventure came back to her. By the end of her hazy remembrances, she was utterly mortified and she put her head in her hands, wishing she could get into a time machine and go back to before she had taken a single drink.

Sure the mountain men were defeated but she would still need to convene with Lexa about her people's next steps, whatever those might be. As such, there was no way to avoid the commander for very long today. If she didn't go to her, Lexa would just send someone to come and get her instead and they wouldn't leave until they had escorted her back there. Back to the tent where that incredibly embarrassing encounter took place. She cringed every time she thought about how much she had cried. Lexa must have been disgusted by her pathetic display and probably regretted ever showing any romantic interest in her. How could the fearsome grounder commander take pride in a great big cry baby for a partner?

Briefly she contemplated fleeing the camp and taking her chances in the wilderness, rather than face Lexa again. Even another pauna would be a less terrifying prospect! Hell a pack of them would be preferable!

Clarke started to hyperventilate and hopped up, pacing around her tent in an effort to calm herself down. This wasn't working very well, so in a fit of panic, she scooped up the bearskin and flung it outside the tent, as if that would suddenly make everything better. Someone said 'hey!' loudly and then Octavia poked her head in with the offending object in hand, holding it like it was both a piece of garbage and the holy grail.

Clarke stopped pacing and froze like a two headed deer caught in spaceship headlights.

"Clarke?" she said quizzically. "What were you doing with this?"

Of all the people who happened to be passing by, Octavia was the worst! They still weren't on the best of terms and she might see this as a way of getting back at her. She had to play it cool and not act suspicious in the least.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Clarke said hurriedly, looking away.

Octavia stepped in further and held it in front of her face so that it was impossible to ignore. Beneath her own musky scent, she could smell Lexa on it at this range. "This right here, the gross, sweaty thing you just threw at my head- this is the commander's. I'm sure of it."

Close to having a nervous breakdown she exclaimed, "We didn't sleep together if that's what you are insinuating!"

Octavia blinked in surprise a few times and then openly gawked at her. "You sooo did! You slept with the commander!"

"No, I didn't!" Clarke said defiantly. "I only wanted to but she wouldn't let me!"

She slapped a hand over her mouth for such idiocy. If there had been any way to burn herself more than this, she couldn't think of it.

"Oh my God!" said Octavia giddily. "She rejected you? Wait till I tell the others!"

She went to leave with the proof in hand and Clarke completely freaked out and attacked her. On the ground outside of the tent now, they began struggling over the bearskin and drawing a crowd around them.

"Give it back!" cried Clarke.

"No way!" yelled Octavia.

"What is this nonsense?" said Indra.

Octavia stopped fighting her and looked up with a sheepish expression. Then she jumped up and faced her mentor head on, doing her best to look stoic but failing with such a juicy piece of gossip on the tip of her tongue.

Indra glanced down at Clarke and then back at Octavia. "Why does the Sky Princess have the commander's bearskin?"

The growing crowd began muttering about this development and Clarke was sure the world was about to end, and was only too glad. At least then she wouldn't have to feel so impossibly embarrassed. She couldn't bear to be scrutinized anymore so she pulled the sweaty bearskin over her blood red face and waited for a swift death.

"Well," said Octavia gleefully, "last night-"

"Klok kom Skaikru en ai don teina. That is why she has my pelt."

There was an unnervingly loud silence following this pronouncement, followed by many mutterings of 'Heda'. Footsteps approached and then, "Arise, Clarke. The ground is no place for the commander's chosen."

Clarke pulled the covering off and gazed up at an impassive and clean faced Lexa. If she was embarrassed by this situation, she wasn't letting on in the slightest. Clarke knew Lexa would not dare help her up, so she steadied her nerves and somehow managed on her own.

Lexa nodded once and then headed in the direction of her tent. Clarke wasn't sure if she was supposed to follow or not, but she sure as hell wasn't going to stay around the likes of Octavia! Though she was pleased to note that the girl looked like her favourite sword had been taken away from her and shattered into a million pieces.

Inside, Lexa poured a glass of something amber in colour and held it out to her. She exchanged it for the pelt and said, "What is this?"

Lexa threw the pelt on her bed and turned back to say, "A remedy for the thunder."

Clarke expected it to taste horrible, but it was actually pretty pleasant and fruity. She consumed it in a few gulps and was disappointed when it didn't immediately cure her killer headache. Then with nothing else happening and Lexa simply staring at her, she felt intensely awkward and fiddled with the cup.

"Why did you lie, Lexa?"

"Would you have preferred I allowed Octavia to tell the truth as she so clearly desired?"

"No," she conceded after a moments thought. Clarke bit her lip. "About last night...I'm really sorry...that must have been even more awkward for you than it was for me to remember today."

"Jus slip daun is very potent. You would be wise to use caution next time you partake."

Clarke shook her head. "I don't think I'm ever drinking again."

The corners of Lexa's lips twitched slightly. "You grow wiser every moment, Clarke."

"Also..."

"Go on."

Clarke held her gaze. "Thank you for being a perfect gentle...woman. It means a lot that you were so respectful...even though I wasn't."

"You were not yourself. I only wish to be with you when you are Clarke of the sky people," her eyes flashed playfully, "not Clarke of the cry people."

Clarke laughed, more out of surprise than because it was actually funny. "Was that a joke, Lexa?"

"Joke?" she replied, obviously pleased with herself for eliciting this response.

Clarke was pretty sure she understood her meaning but elaborated anyway. "You know, when you say something with the intent of making the other person laugh."

"Ah, leife.* This is our word for such a thing."

She laughed again.

"This is amusing to you too?"

"Yes...no...I just didn't think grounders had a sense of humour."

"We are not always in times of war, Clarke. Sometimes we even play music and dance."

Finally something like relief swept over her poor skull and she couldn't help but smile. "So, now what?"

"Now we attend to our duties. There is much work to be done yet."

"No, I mean, what about us? What's our next move?"

Lexa studied her for a bit and then took a step closer. "What do you desire it to be?"

"Well, Lexa," she said with a smirk, "since you told everyone that we're together, I think we have no choice but to actually be together."

"Yes, Clarke," said Lexa closing the rest of the gap between them, putting a hand on her waist, "you are certainly growing wiser."

They kissed a little more passionately than the previous time, and then right at the height of her pleasure Maxin barged in again saying, "Heda! Come quickly! Trouble brews on Mount Weather!"

Lexa whirled around, giving him a murderous glare, to which he quailed at. "Forgive me, Heda!" He looked at Clarke like he couldn't believe she had not been cast into exile for defiling his leader with salty water. "I did not know you were with the sky princess again!"

"That is why you are required to ask permission before entering my chambers," she said low and dangerous.

Maxin backed out of the tent and Lexa turned back to her and sighed, the first time Clarke could recall hearing such a defeated sound from her. Lexa rested their foreheads together for a few more seconds and then pulled back and said, "I must away."

"I'm coming with."

Lexa nodded and then they hurried out together, a faint smile on both women's lips. Clarke had a funny feeling that everything would be fine between them from here on out. If Lexa still wanted her after last night's and this morning's pathetic displays, there was probably nothing Clarke could do to sway her mind otherwise. And this knowledge made her happier than she had been in quite some time.


Who else was cringe laughing throughout the Clarke/Octavia/Indra bit?

'Klok kom Skaikru en ai don teina' means something like Clarke of The Sky People and I have entwined/come together.

'Jus slip daun' basically says blood fall.

*I dunno, made some shit up.

Random question here: Why do the grounders know how to speak English? Who are they talking to that would require them to have kept teaching/learning it throughout the generations?

Edit: Thanks for the many, many, many replies to this question. It seems the answer is pretty simple. They just kept learning English so as to be able to communicate and spy on their enemies the mountain men. That's why children aren't allowed to learn it until they become warriors. Too dangerous. And vice versa, they created 'sleng (almost slang really) as a way to prevent said mountain men from learning their secrets. It's like a code language that all grounders know, that's why it's only like slurred English. Shof op is a really easy one to figure out.

Anyway, thanks for reading this silly thing. Till next time.