Chapter Eight
I got another oooone! XD Took me a bit, but here it is! I have decided that Lexarke sounds cooler than Clexa, but I'm not sure... I'm also not sure if I really like this chapter, I might re-do it soon instead of another update tomorrow. Whatever it is, it'll be up before the new episode that airs at nine!
Guest, you were right, WARTIME IS COMING.
In fact, it's upon us.
All she could hear was the thundering of the heavy hooves of her, Lexa and Octavia's steeds as they rode ahead of the center group. A team had ambushed them, and Lincoln stayed behind with half of his foot soldiers to deal with the surprisingly weak group of Grounders, while the other half branched out amongst the trees in search of other ambush teams. They were all fodder, meant to tire Lexa's team for the final battle. Quint seemed to think that a few dozen bodies could tire her warriors. Soon, yells and clangs of blunted blades sounded behind them, beside them, in front of them.
In front of them.
And then Clarke was airborne.
Hawal, her loyal mare, had her legs slammed out from under her, shooting Clarke forward. The blonde artist landed with a sickening crack against a flat sheet of stone. The blonde rolled onto her back with a loud, pitiful groan as she stared blearily up at the sky, caressed by the green leaves on the tallest trees.
Clarke's vision was beyond blurry, but she could just make out the whirling black and brown body that took on five male Grounders maybe ten feet from her? Three fell quickly, crumpling to the ground with dents in their skulls from the flat of the warriors blade. Clarke looked up, and realized that Octavia was leaning over her, shielding her as she fired arrows at oncoming Grounders. Those that made it past the heavy-headed arrows with minimal injury were met with the wrath of Lexa Heda. She lost all sense of rationality the moment Clarke and Hawal tumbled down upon the forest floor. Her blows were vicious, striking the heads, groins and chests of those who dared attack her with the force of a beast as unnatural as the mutant wolf painted upon her love's face.
Her love's.
Clarke's vision had cleared, and oddly enough, she had no headache. It was her left wrist and ankle that seared with pain, while a dull throb kept steady on her left hip.
"Octavia," Clarke rasped, sitting up only to be cradled by her friend as she shot a Grounder right between the eyes, slamming into a pair of protective goggles covered in fur and wood. He crumpled like a ragdoll. "Where's" Clarke had to stop speaking to catch her breath, her wind having been knocked out during the fall. "Where's Hawal?"
"Whistle for her."
Clarke whistled a simple note, but it sounded about the nearby forest, and soon, her stocky mare came thundering towards her, Lexa's own steed, Darjmere, right beside her. Clarke saw red at the blood dripping from her mare's legs. How dare they. Clarke growled, and with Octavia's assistance, stood tall. She pulled the gun at her hip out of hits holster, took aim at the same female Grounder that had fought her at the last war game, and fired. The girl collapsed with a cry of pain, clutching her chest. Clarke took aim again, this time at a massive boy with hulking shoulders and fired. He didn't stop running.
Clarke looked closer at the boy as Octavia fired arrow after arrow at him, the sickening thuds of the heavy-headed arrows ringing out clearly. Clarke gasped. His eyes were fully dilated, no scrap of color anywhere to be seen other than black. The white of his eyes were streaked with thick red veins and spittle flew from his mouth. Clarke raised her gun again, firing off three bullets in quick succession as Octavia's arrows joined in the assault. He had been heavily drugged, and was nothing like the boy he usually was as he walked the halls of Alliance.
The boy - no, beast - was almost upon them, and both Octavia and Clarke unsheathed their blades, their weight comforting in sweaty hands. The boy leaped up, planning to crash down on both teens.
Suddenly, the air where the boy had once been was empty.
The same went for the tree four feet to the right of Clarke and Octavia.
The tree had been snapped in half low near the trunk, caused by the enormous boys body being slammed into it. The force that caused such a feat? Lexa's very, very angry foot.
The Commanders eyes blazed with a fury Clarke had never seen, and the muscles in Lexa's neck popped out, each rolling and flexing as she inhaled and exhaled with rage-induced force. Blood tricked down the warriors neck, and also covered parts of her shirt. But before Clarke could take account of all Lexa's injuries, another wave of enemy Grounders was upon them.
Last year, it was only two teams of fifty. This year, it was two teams of two hundred.
Shit.
Lexa, Clarke and Octavia went back to back, forming a triangle as they spun from blades and ducked from arrows. Soon, they became separated as the number of Grounders attacking them became overwhelming. Octavia had been pinned to the floor by two large male Grounders while a third preceded to punch her in the abdomen as hard as he could.
It was Lexa's turn to see red, and unlike Clarke, it would not fade.
First, the Commander drove her elbow into the back of a Grounders head, then, she picked up a thick, heavy branch from the forest floor. She swung it like a baseball bat, and it knocked the two Grounders holding Octavia unconscious. The two lay with their libs intertwined as they lay slumped against each other on the cold forest floor. The newly freed brunette yelled, driving her foot into the last Grounders face, smashing his nose and causing him to see stars.
Clarke, once the dizziness had faded, became a blur, whirling about the enormous Grounder boys, firing her gun as she rested it against their ribs or thighs, rendering them almost immobile with pain in sensitive spots she had learned from Lexa not even a week ago.
Together, the three girls held their own as they awaited back up, trusting the loud noise of the fight to draw the attention of Lincoln and his foot soldiers, and hopefully, some archers scattered in the trees. Not many Grounders could attack them at once, lest they injure each other, so for the moment, they could manage.
Soon, other Grounders from Lexa's team joined the battle, and the yells and clangs of fighting became nearly deafening. Thankfully they were in a clearing large enough to hold seventy five of the fighting teens. The yells had become commonplace after an hour of fighting continuing throughout the forest, but a new, screaming yell lead into a heavy roar sounded throughout the clearing.
Lincoln came flying, smacking right into Octavia, who screamed his name. The tanned boy's eyes fluttered open, his vision blurry as he mumbled Octavia's name. The brunette cradled her all-time crush in the middle of the battlefield, Lexa defending her in a whirl of fierce yells and vicious attacks. Clarke came in to replace Lexa as the Commander moved to confront this new threat.
Heavy foot-falls were masked by the loud noise of the battlefield, but Lexa didn't need them to identify the hulking mass as Quint, his eyes dilated and his breathe coming in heavy, fury-induced pants. He was wild, eyes swallowed by thick, pulsing red veins. He was sweating far too much, yet another indication that he had indulged in some sort of drug before or during the battle.
Quint roared again, slamming a black and silver mace into the tree beside him, making the wood splinter and groan before the thin, adolescent tree toppled, striking one of his own men in the shoulder, dislocating it while slapping another Grounder girl in the face with its leaves.
Lexa matched Quint's roar with one of her own, the noise itself enough to cause one Grounder boy to wet himself at its intensity. The Commander was, in this moment, more than slightly feral, slipping into a state of mind her furthest ancestors possessed as they fought for their lives with obsidian spears and sharpened boomerangs.
Quint ignored her, however, as his wild eyes caught sight of a much more interesting target.
Clarke.
Quint charged at the blonde, who had her back turned as she struggled against a Grounder girl with two scythes that hadn't been blunted well. The air was knocked from her lungs as Quint made contact. Clarke was pinned to the floor as Quint brought a meaty fist back only to slam it down, aiming for Clarke's head. His fist met a medium sized stone, and his two main knuckles broke as the cartilage was partially crushed. The scariest part? He didn't seem to even feel it.
Lexa gave another almost inhuman roar, launching herself at the significantly larger opponent. She managed to tackle Quint off of Clarke, forcing Octavia to defend Lincoln on her own until Monty seemed to materialize beside her, shooting three Grounders in quick succession before putting his back to Octavia, and hers to him as they circled together, Lincoln laying semi-conscious between them.
Clarke struggled to her feet, just in time to see Lexa slam into a tree before she bounded off of it, using it as a backboard to deliver a superman punch directly on Quint's jaw. The brutish boy spit out two teeth as he stumbled, whimpering as a slight twinge of unfamiliar pain destroyed his high feelings of invincibility. The massive boy swung his mace at Lexa's head, rules of the game forgotten as he focused on one thing. The kill. Lexa managed to duck, and her once again very angry foot snapped out to slam into Quint's knee. A sickening crack sounded as the once-honorable boy was forced to crumple down to be supported by his one good fist.
Lexa's shin slammed down on his jaw with the force of a solid-wooden baseball bat, and he crumpled down completely, unconscious.
Nearby Grounders gave a howl at their Commanders victory against the brute, and their fighting intensified, emboldened by their Commanders strength as though it were channeled to each and every one of them. Soon, more of both teams joined the fray as more and more were taken out of action, both forcibly and willingly. Not a single member of Lexa's team was willing to surrender, not even small, lithe Fox, who weaved about almost completely unnoticed as she shot Grounder and after Grounder at point blank range in the ribs or thighs.
Soon, Lexa and Clarke came together, fighting across from one another against fodder and real competition as the enemy's numbers dwindled.
"Having fun Princess?" Lexa asked as she brought her fist down onto the cheek of true competition, knocking his thick-headed self into a state of semi-consciousness.
"Definitely!" Clarke yelled over the cries of those still fighting. She kicked a large Grounder boy, Eddie was his name, before flicking her gun into her hand to fire a single shot at center mass. The usually loud and obnoxious boy collapsed without a fight. Clarke smirked, she had pictured hitting the boy with a textbook every time he opened his racist mouth for months, both this year and last. This was much more satisfying.
Lexa smiled brightly at Clarke, green eyes gleaming with intensity and adrenaline. Clarke smiled back and together, her and Lexa slammed two Grounders' heads together, putting them in a dreamless sleep.
Suddenly, the two found themselves inches away from the others face, panting heavily. The enemy was currently occupied, with the cries of Octavia and Monty ringing loud and clear as they fought not fifteen feet away. The two didn't notice, too caught up in the other to actually give a damn about the battle that surrounded them on all sides. Clarke gave a quiet, breathy laugh as her lips stretched in a wide smile, the fangs beneath her lips moving with the muscles of her face. She looked fierce and wild, her hair wind and battle tossed and her paint smudged around the ears of the Hawal Pauna. Lexa never thought she looked more beautiful then she did in that moment, her breathing heavy and her eyes gently glazed from battle.
No, she didn't look beautiful. She looked hot. Beautiful was her Clarke when she wiped off whatever makeup she wiped off as she strut around in sweatpants. Hot was Clarke covered in war paint, sword and gun in hand as she looked at Lexa as though she were a feast and she were a starved wolf.
Hawal Pauna.
Lexa leaned closer to Clarke, their noses brushing gently as their heart rates sped up to a near fatal pace. She cupped the artist's cheeks with her palms as she rubbed her thumbs just beneath her eyes, removing smudges of kohl. She could see Clarke's breathe falter as she brought their faces closer. Lexa let her hands travel down Clarke's neck, shoulders and arms to rest on the blonde's hips, her sword buried under bits of leaves and dirt. The two shared an intense gaze for what felt like years before they surged to press their lips to the others.
Clarke's arms, her hands still holding her sword and gun, wrapped themselves around Lexa's neck as she lost herself in the kiss. So lost was she, that when Lexa tipped her back and the clang of metal on metal sounded right by Clarke's ear, it was as though she had been woken from a dream by blaring sirens and screams. She was pushed away from Lexa as the warrior whirled to face the boy that dared to interrupt their moment.
The Grounder boy smirked, but the smirk vanished a moment later when his eyes rolled back into his head as he crumpled to the floor. Bellamy stood behind him, breathe coming in heaving gestures as he kept the fist he used up. He and Lexa connected gazes, and he winked at her, flashing a thumbs up before leaping back into the slowly lessening fray.
Before Lexa could continue with Clarke, they were faced with a small group of five Grounders that they dispatched of easily.
Lexa glanced at her love, blonde mind waving wildly behind her as she duel wielded her sword and gun.
I'll die for this girl.
No, I'll live for her.
Darjmere- Slurred from 'Dark' and 'Nightmare', meaning 'Nightmare'
Hawal- Slurred from 'Howl', meaning 'Wolf'
