1.
The weight on her lap is the first thing that Lexa is aware of when she wakes up. She opens her eyes and Clarke's hair looks like silver in the pale light of the moon, her eyes closed.
She fixes her gaze on the other girl's face, observing the tiny cuts on her forehead, the scrapes on her cheek.
She finds a deeper scratch just at the side of her mouth and her hand is already moving to gently brush over it before she has time to realize what she's doing.
She stops, her hand frozen in mid air, then pulls it back over the white, threadbare sheets.
She tries to concentrate on her own body, fighting the numbing sensation caused by the sky people's medicines, in order to make an inventory of her injuries.
Her chest hurts, even now, and she knows the gash must be as deep as she had predicted the moment she felt the wolf's claws tear into her skin. Her mind takes her back to the forest, to Clarke's expression after they had defeated the pack. To the way her eyes had opened wide and she had unconsciously raised her arms towards Lexa, as if she couldn't bare to be away from her even for another second.
She closes her eyes again and takes a deep breath.
She had been distracted. She had let her guard down and in doing so put Clarke's life in danger. She realizes, now, how she should have paid more attention to her surroundings, how she should have noticed the absence of small creatures nearby, certainly driven away by the predators' proximity.
But she was too busy concentrating on the way Clarke's lips felt on her neck, how the blond hair tickled her skin at every shift of her body, how her chest was firmly pressed into Lexa's back.
She recalls the panic she felt when she realized the danger they were in, how her brain had zoomed in on a single thought, playing it like a loop in her head: keep Clarke safe, keep Clarke safe, keep Clarke safe.
She doesn't remember much of the actual fight, just the adrenaline running in her blood, filling her body with the desperate energy that allowed her to survive until the last beast was taken down, her sword gleaming red with its blood.
She's yanked from her thoughts when she feels Clarke moving, trying to bury her face further into Lexa's warmth. She considers that the chair the girl is half seated on must be anything but comfortable and for a second she's tempted to wake her up, to invite her on the bed, to loose herself in the tight, soft hold of Clarke's arms.
But something stops her, a subtle shame, an indistinct feeling that she doesn't deserve the comfort and protection that those arms would offer her.
And anyway, Lexa thinks, Clarke is so beautiful in this moment, lost in the depths of sleep, her face relaxed, innocent, that she can't bear to disturb her.
So she adjusts her body, unconsciously wrapping herself around the other girl as much as she can, and laces her fingers with her lover's ones.
In a moment, she's asleep.
2.
Lexa stays in the medical area for exactly one week - the time it takes for the pain to go from excruciating to almost bearable - before she calmly informs Abigail that she is ready to return to her tent and to her obligations as commander.
She ignores the doctor's protests, every technique that the woman uses to change her mind - from gentle firmness to outright frightening accounts of the possible consequences that her premature return to her life could have on her health - before finally storming out of the room announcing that she's not going to take any responsibility for her patience's thoughtless attitude.
Lexa even ignores her own generals' attempts to reassure her that the situation is stable enough and that she should concentrate on her recovery.
She knows they are legitimately worried about her. They are still benefiting from that honeymoon period that comes with the ending of every long suffered war and she and Clarke have become a sort of celebrated pair of heroes in the eyes of their people. But it's not the first time she's been in this situation, so she knows better than to take the population's respect and devotion for granted. They may worship the ground they walk on, for now, but it never lasts.
Clarke only looks at her, silently, and Lexa knows she understands.
/
She's resolute on walking all the way from the medical area to her tent, horrified by the thought of her people seeing her in what Clarke calls a wheelchair, and her ribs protest painfully to her every movement.
But she can't afford to be seen so weak that she can't even stand on her own feet, not after the fact that the last time her soldiers saw her she was being carried away in someone's arms like a child.
Her balance starts wavering after only a few steps and by the time they finally come to what for every intent and purpose is her home, she has trouble breathing.
Clarke moves the deer skin that covers the entrance of the tent aside, silently inviting her to go in first, and then turns to her mother and to Indra, who have followed them in case Lexa lost consciousness from the exertion, and tells them that they will be fine on their own for the night.
They linger outside for a while, probably for some last minute instructions on what to do in case the pain gets really bad, so by the time Clarke joins her in the soft light of the candles Lexa is already half naked, struggling to free herself from her shirt.
She spies Clarke putting some tiny bottles on the table and figures Abigail has guilt tripped her into taking them.
But it doesn't matter. They both know Lexa is not going to take the sky people's medicines again, no matter how much pain she's in. After all, they only managed to drug her the first time because she wasn't awake to stop them.
Clarke turns to her and send her a soft smile, but her expression becomes confused when Lexa doesn't return it.
Wordlessly, she gets closer and starts helping with the difficult task of undressing without upsetting her already battered body even more.
This is the first time they've been alone in days, and there's nothing Lexa wants more than to be able to hold Clarke close, to feel her skin, to bury her face in the other girl's neck.
Still, when Clarke takes her hand Lexa's head is assaulted with images of what could have happened and in her mind Clarke's face is colored red with her blood, her eyes and mouth are open wide in her last breath.
The horrifying picture disappears as suddenly as it has come, and Lexa instinctively retracts her hand, taking a step back.
"Don't worry. I already know how strong you are. You can let go now," Clarke tells her quietly, lovingly.
Lexa tries to take another step back, to put on a brave face, to scold her features into those she has memorized from a life of having to present herself as the heartless, ruthless commander of the grounders.
But it's all useless because Clarke can see right through her, and by the time her mind is able to reconnect with her body, the other girl has already freed her from the shirt and taken her to bed, tucking them both under the covers, their bodies intertwined.
They don't say anything. There's no need to. They just look at one another for what seems like an immense amount of time, trying to memorize every detail of each other's faces, to commit the sensation of their bodies touching to memory, how they both feel like they have finally come home after a long journey away.
They are painfully aware of each other's thoughts, how they are both replaying the attack in their heads, turning it into something far more sinister and tragic.
Clarke falls asleep first, and it is only after her eyes have closed and her breath has slowed down to a peaceful rhythm that Lexa, her eyes shining with tears that she won't allow to fall, says, "I'm so sorry Clarke. I'm so sorry my love."
3.
She's busy planning an attack on a rival tribe which has been poisoning their cattle for weeks when Clarke suddenly comes barging into their tent.
Her body is shaking with nervous rage, her lips tightened into a thin line, and Lexa thinks she's never appeared as magnificent as she does in this moment; a powerful, deadly creature, a work of art not to be messed with.
She knows the reason why Clarke is so angry. During the last month she has seen the girl's face grow more and more confused every time Lexa's brushed aside the chance to spend some time together in favor of unnecessary war meetings, every time she's refused Clarke's touch, every night she's turned her back to her lover and only pretended to fall asleep, too cold and bitter to actually surrender to slumber.
She knows at first Clarke has tried to give her space, perhaps believing her burdened by some problem regarding the protection of the village; but Lexa has seen her patience waver over time, the hurt more and more vivid in her eyes and she has known that soon Clarke would inevitably confront her about it.
So she's not even remotely surprised when she hears the girl say, her nerves masked by the harshness of her voice, "You need to tell me what's happening, because I can't go on like this anymore."
"Nothing is happening, Clarke." she answers, calmly. "I am simply resuming the duties I have forgotten for too long. I'm sorry if you feel that I am neglecting our time together but you must understand that we cannot let our guard down if we want to ensure the survival of our community."
"I thought we were past this," the girl replies after a few seconds, her voice suddenly tired.
"Past what, Clarke? Look around you. Our people are still starving. The other tribes are still trying to kill us. You and your people came all the way down here looking for life, but this world is made of death." She takes a breath, trying to calm herself down. "Our war is not over. It will never be over."
"I know exactly how dangerous this world is, and I'm not saying we should ignore it, but I thought we were past sacrificing everything good in our lives, past living every day as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, past..." But what remains of Clarke's answer is lost, interrupted by Lexa's exasperated cry, "I have a responsibility towards my people, can you understand that?"
Lexa herself is surprised at how angry she is, surprised that her calm and collected demeanor has abandoned her in the moment she needed it the most.
She closes her eyes, again trying to compose herself, then resumes, more quietly, "I have a responsibility towards them, towards all of you. I am the Heda. It is my duty to protect and care for my people, for our people, above everything else. That's what I was born to do. That's what my spirit was born to do, and has done, for many years.
Things are quiet now, Clarke, but don't be fooled into thinking that's how they will stay. Not unless we keep watch, always."
"That's bullshit!" Clarke explodes, with renewed heat.
Lexa opens her mouth to retort but the girl continues, "I'm well aware of our responsibilities as leaders. I know it's our job to provide resources for our people, to protect them, to create the best conditions in order for them to thrive." She pauses and takes a step towards Lexa, looking straight into her eyes.
"But that's not what this is about. This is about you and me. This is about us being attacked by that pack. I know you blame yourself. And I know you were scared they were going to hurt me..."
"Scared?!" Lexa exclaims, infuriated. "Scared? Clarke, I was terrified! There was an entire pack of wolves trying to make us into their next meal, and only me to protect you. We were hours away from the village. And all that happened because I got distracted, because I failed to recognize the danger we were in.
I've been living in this woods all my life, Clarke. I know them like I know the back of my hand. I recognize every sound, every smell, every reflection that the light creates filtering through the trees.
But when I am with you... I forget everything I know, everything I've been taught.
And that's dangerous, Clarke. It's dangerous for me, for you, and for our people.
What do you think would happen if I were to die tomorrow? My generals follow my orders because they respect my judgment and my position, but how long do you think it would take them to turn against your group if I wasn't here to entice power over them? If something happened to me all the sky people would be in danger. And you more than anyone."
Clarke is silent for a long time, her eyes fixed somewhere behind Lexa's head, then finally replies, "When we were riding on that horse, the last thing you told me before you lost consciousness was that you will always choose me. So I'm asking you to trust me on this. To trust my word that it won't come to that. I'm asking you to trust me when I say that we can find a compromise between your role as Commander and what's between us.
I've always been by your side, Lexa. We got through a war together because we wanted to build a better world, to give our people a better life. Now the war is over and we've managed to come up on the other side. We are here. We have a life to live, and I'm asking you to live it with me.
I don't want to just survive anymore, Lexa. I don't want my life to be defined only by the battles I've won and the people I've killed. We have created a new world together, but what good does that make if we are not living in it? So I'm asking you to choose to live instead of surviving. I'm asking you to choose me."
Lexa can see Clarke's eyes filling up with tears, can see her hands trembling and is sure that the girl is fighting the temptation to wrap them around herself. She loves that she's holding onto her strength, even now.
She loves her proud, fierce girl.
She loves her with all her bitter, stony heart.
Clarke's voice is delicate, pleading. "Choose me."
Lexa looks at her. They stay frozen, observing each other for a long moment, and then suddenly she can see Clarke's whole body deflating as the girl realizes she has lost the fight.
With a sigh Clarke turns around, heading towards the threshold, and is about to step outside when Lexa tells her, "I am choosing you, Clarke. One day you'll be able to see that."
She thinks she can see Clarke's back stiffen, but the girl doesn't turn around.
"I am," she repeats, her words sure, final.
Clarke stops for a moment, then resumes her walk.
Lexa doesn't follow her.