Hey guys, sorry for the insanely long wait. Life got really crazy but I'm for sure continuing on. Don't worry! Thank you for bearing with me. Happy pride month!
The snow blanketing the ground is not as white as yesterday, dirt is stomped into it near the primary walking areas. Even without the snow fall, its dark and dreary outside, and colder than it was yesterday. However, that weather doesn't stop Lexa from dragging Clarke out to a secluded courtyard to follow through on the agreement they made on the couch last night. The Commander is going to teach her how to fight. Properly.
Clarke gained some skills during those three months in exile, without a gun and mainly just her hands. It doesn't surprise Lexa that there is power behind each blow. But, they are inconsistent and imprecise. Clear indication that she lacked formal training and picked these up by herself.
"Umph," the Commander grunts when she deflects a jerky strike near her head.
"Sorry," Clarke says half apologetically but with a half-smug smirk. "I'm not half bad, am I?"
The Commander catches her breath much quicker than Clarke. "You have impressive strength, Clarke. Strength that often takes years for warriors to build up." Her voice softens when she steps into Clarke's personal space, choosing her coaching words sensibly. "Your form could use your improvement though."
A small crinkle forms between Clarke's eyebrows but she nods, accepting the critique she was anticipating.
Lexa's hands extend toward her; however, she stops herself before she gets too close in public without permission. "May I show you?"
Again, Clarke nods.
Lexa drops her training stick onto the mixture of dirt and snow then moves behind Clarke. Her hands slide over Clarke's elbows and lift her arms to raise Clarke's stick. "You are using your elbow too much. That's why you aren't precise with your hits that often. And you could injure yourself. You want to use your shoulders more." She covers the length of Clarke's arms with hers and guides her shoulders back into a basic position.
"Hold it back like this." She instructs as she hoists their arms up a couple of inches. "Then swing through like this" Lexa swings the stick in a slow short motion.
"And once you get accustomed to that." Her hands release Clarke's arms and ghost over her hips. "You can use your legs and hips more."
Clarke cranes her head over her shoulder and wiggles her eyebrows. "I'll do that, Commander."
Usually, Lexa dislikes when Clarke uses her title when they are alone together. But the way she says it, low and husky in her throat and with a frisky suggestiveness that sparkles in her eyes. It bubbles pleasantly in her gut and for a few moments she enjoys her title.
"Then show me, Wanheda." She playfully canters back and whisks her stick from the ground. The brown snow flings off the end when Lexa cockily swings the blunt wooden weapon at shoulder height.
Clarke squints at her mannerisms then reigns in Lexa recent instructions, raising her weapon up then powers through with her shoulders. The blow clearly catches the Commander off guard because her neck muscles clench and her boots slide through the snow to prevent a stumble. To take advantage of this, Clarke swings hastily to the other side that Lexa maneuvers to defend off. Her internal scrappiness starts seeping back in and Clarke pivots around the Commander's leg and kicks her in the back of her knees that sends her tumbling in the wrong direction, right on top of Clarke
They land on the snow-covered ground with a crunch and a small thud. "I assume that move didn't go as planned." Lexa stares down at the woman beneath her, both struggling not to blush at their suggestive position.
Clarke strains to surge up and flip their positions. But, with barely any effort, the Commander pins her arms down. A mixture of shock and disappointment flicker in Clarke's eyes as they skip up and down the muscular arms restraining her.
"That move usually works on you." Clarke pouts.
"I'm training you to fight Clarke."
When Clarke gives up on wiggling her arms, the Commander releases her hold and climbs back up on her feet. She extends her hand, a wordless invitation to help the other girl up.
Maybe they are standing a little too close, too intimately for the public eye. Mainly due to Lexa being overly cautiously, over paranoid. It doesn't stop her from dusting off some snow on Clarke's shoulders and on the tips of her hair.
Her hand snaps back when she spots tops of head coming up from the training rounds with trudges of feet through the snow and dirt. And with her sharp hearing, she can hear a disgruntled grumble from a recognizable throat.
Indra and Octavia are leading the small group of Natblidas, followed by Lincoln in the tow. It has been a couple of days since Clarke has been met with that upturn of a nose with disapproving hard dark eyes from the General. At this point, Octavia is unfazed by these interactions.
"Heda." Indra nods her head respectfully but grunts a, "Wanheda."
The distance grows between the two women as the Nightbloods line up behind the two warriors with Lincoln towering over them.
"Teaching Clarke how to fight like a warrior?" Lincoln penetrates the awkward silence.
"Sha," the Commander grins at Clarke then turns to the small group. "She is doing very, I may have her join our Natblida training session next."
Young eyes light up excitedly, glaringly eager to spend more time with the Sky Girl.
Lexa approaches her young Natblidas, walking past her two her warriors. "How did training go today, Lincoln?"
While Indra chooses to join her Heda, Octavia meets Clarke a few yards away. "How's training going, Princess? Not as easy as it looks, is it?"
Princess doesn't sound as condescending when it rolls off Octavia's tongue, it sounds like a teasing friend. She puts her hands on her hips, her breathing finally slowing down. "I already had a few moves of my own, maybe I'll show you sometime."
Over the young warrior's shoulder, she spots a hooded figure standing by a tree, watching. Enough light is seeping through the clouds for Clarke to be able to decipher the markings on Ontari's face. Her throat feels thicker and it's getting harder to breathe again. It's taking her back to the night of the ceremony, when she caught Ontari watching her and Lexa. Fear and anxiety cripple down her spine and spread through her shoulders and arms.
"Clarke." The loud click of Octavia's tongue snaps her out of her anxious mind. "Are you okay?"
"Uh yeah," Clarke stammers over her words then shakes her head to focus. "I'm fine."
Octavia eyes her warily but before she can press further, the Grounders approach them. "Klark," the Commander says, "the Natblidas are asking that you tell them more stories. Will you be willing to tell them one or two before their next lesson?"
The distraction makes Clarke smile, "I think I have one or two in mind."
Before following the group, Clarke chances one more glance in that direction. And Ontari is gone. Is that good or bad? She doesn't have much time to think though, Octavia is studying her guardedly. So, she smiles to pretend that her lungs aren't being constricted by her ribs.
"There were parts of the ship that had glass ceilings and windows, where you could lie on the floor and feel wrapped in the stars. Stars that seemed so much closer up there." Clarke beams, almost in a day dream, while she sits on the steps below the Commander's throne and rehashes memories from a different life. "The moon was right there." She nods into nothingness. "You could make out the craters and mountains."
Young eyes grow in amazement with each word. Most of them sit with their legs crossed and leaning forward, engrossed in details of a foreign life.
Lexa has been standing a foot or two behind them, observing their interactions and drinking in every word of Clarke's story. Wanting to know everything there is to know about her. For a moment, her eyes flicker to Lincoln and Octavia, standing intimately close. She needs to follow his lead little by little because love is not weakness. It is strength.
It's been so long since she has shown any signs of affection or love in public or in front of anyone, intentionally. She sucks air deep into her lungs and closes the short distance between her and Clarke. Not wanting to startle her or make her uncomfortable, she places her hand on a tough but delicate shoulder.
"Once a meteor- "Clarke halts mid-sentence to find nervous, timid eyes, and immediately understands Lexa's purpose. She reaches up and laces their fingers together. Meeting her half way.
This seems to be the only thing to distract the children gathered in front of them because all those pairs of eyes flash up to their joined hands. And Lexa can't help her heart beating harder against her chest, out of internalized and irrational fear. Fear that quickly dissipates when her young Natblidas smile and nudge each other elatedly.
"Once a meteor." Clarke starts again but is interrupt with a question being shouted from her little audience
"What's a meteor?"
"It's basically a giant rock." Without letting go of Lexa's hand, she gestures with an open arm. "They can be as small as this room or as big as a planet!"
That sets the children's eyes to snap wide open. She loves blowing their minds with information and stories that she once took for granted. The grounders would stare at the mysterious sky, not knowing what's out there or what it's like. Dreaming of one day being there. And Clarke would stare down at the ground, wondering what it was like and what would be here. Now, she knows, she's here and is no longer dreaming.
"This one meteor came so close to us that it shook our entire station, everything was falling on the ground and some people hid under tables. I didn't hide, I saw this redish brown rock barreling above us with an orange and purple glaze trailing behind it. It just missed Earth too."
"Did you see the meteor, Octavia?" Sitting in the back of the audience, Aden twists in her direction.
The warrior catches some words in her throat, probably at the missed experiences. "I didn't see it, I was in my room with no windows. I felt it though, I remember the walls shaking around me and the bed. And some pictures fell. It was scary." She toys awkwardly with the collar of her jacket and Lincoln tenderly places a hand on her lower back.
Lexa feels Clarke jump at the unexpected banging on the doors. A meeting was not scheduled for another two hours at least, she unlaces her fingers from Clarke's.
"Good work today. You are dismissed for the remainder of the day." She says to her students before calling to the guards to allow the visitors inside.
A small group of Yujleda leaders file through the door, two in lead and three bringing up the rear. Right in the middle is Bellamy. One of the front leaders sticks out his foot to trip him and another comes up to shove him forcefully to the ground. Papers fly everywhere as the leaders chuckle at their prisoner. Bellamy doesn't dare glance up from the floor in humility.
The Commander catches Octavia's eyes and cranes her head down at Clarke, silently asking her to whisk her love away from the uneasy situation. Octavia crouches down to Clarke's level to whisper, "come on, let's go back to one of our rooms to talk about Skaikru."
Bellamy is on his knees, reorganizing the scattered papers when they walk past. The footsteps provoke him to tilt his head up, his eyes red and pleading. "O…." He begs.
It's as if his plea get lost in the wind because his sister doesn't even react with a tic of a muscle or a blink of an eye. Her head is up and forward. Clarke barely glimpses at him before exiting the room.
"What did I say about harming the prisoners?" The Commander barks, striding defiantly towards Yujleda.
"He merely tripped, Heda." Uzac feigns innocence but there is an extra rumple in his wrinkly eyes. "Skaikru are as unstable on their feet as they are with their judgement and weapons."
Papers rattle in Bellamy's trembling hands when he finally stands. His eyes are glued shamefully to the documents in front of him, the lines creasing in his forehead and around his mouth.
The Commander dismisses his delayed remorse, reminding herself that he is rightfully paying his consequences. Too much blood shed because of him. Nearly shattering her collation, putting her and Clarke's leadership at risk. And the thought of him hurting Clarke physically and emotionally claws back into her skin like a snake.
"What matters bring you into my presence before our scheduled meeting?" Her coat swishes behind her, turning her back on the former Sky leader and letting this incidence slide.
"What were you staring at earlier? Down in the courtyard. You looked worried. Or scared." Octavia probes, ending the minutes of silence that had built up between them.
Clarke pushes off the side of their couch and lets her folded arms drop to her sides. It has been eating at her a bit since the celebration but now she feels it tearing up her gut and chest and working itself into her brain.
"That Ontari girl…"
"The Nightblood that use to be Ice Queen's right hand or prodigy, right?"
Clarke's lips turn down, "I saw her at the celebration for Skaikru, she was staring at me. Or Lexa. Or maybe both of us." The words are running faster out of her mouth than they are running through her head. "Then I saw her again near the courtyard. Hiding."
The younger girl keeps her arms bent across her chest, tapping against her biceps in thought. "What do you think she wants? What is she up to?"
"I don't know." Clarke throws her arms up, getting increasingly preoccupied. "I don't know if it's with me or Lexa. Maybe she is upset that I tried to kill Nia or that Lexa did. She's always been after the throne."
Octavia stands, tugging at the ends of her sleeves but doesn't move from her spot. "All of that would make sense. Especially after what Lincoln has been teaching me about Natblidas and the legacy of the Commander." She takes a moment to pause, then adds. "And maybe she knows about you and Lexa."
Her eyebrows instantly hitch together. "How – "
"You and the Commander aren't as subtle as you think." Octavia cuts off her before she can even finish her word. And slightly rolls her eyes.
Clarke runs her fingers through her hair, worst-case scenarios are already swarming her mind. That girl is highly capable and her eyes have been on the Commander's throne.
"Have you told Lexa?" The young warrior asks when Clarke fails to respond.
"No." Clarke says definitively. "She'll freak out. This was already a big step for her."
She can't allow Lexa to believe that love is weakness again or that her love is somehow endangering and selfish.
"Was she with anyone? How about Roan?"
Clarke shakes her head. "She was by herself both times. I don't think her and Roan have a good relationship since it seemed like Nia abandoned Roan for Ontari."
"Why don't we go find out then?" Octavia offers.
"What?"
"Let's track her down, see if she is doing anything suspicious. We won't talk to her. But I think it'll be a good idea if we can try to find out anything."
"Okay but we can't..."
"We won't tell Lexa." Octavia sighs in annoyance. "But I'm telling Lincoln, so he can keep his eye out for the both of you. It's his job. And we can't afford either of you to be dead."
"Fine, let's go then. We will start near the courtyard, since that's where I saw her last."
After Octavia questions Clarke if she is prepared with weapons, they depart silently down the hall. And Clarke glances at the throne room doors, not wanting to run into Lexa and be met with her questions. Even hearing her voice through the thick doors makes her stomach do summersaults. Especially hearing the curls of her tongue speaking Trigedasleng.
The elevator attendants secure the doors behind the two women and when the old machine begins its jerky decent, Clarke turns to the girl next to her.
"I'm sorry about your brother."
Octavia blinks hard several times before her brows knit tightly together and her forehead wrinkles. "Why? He got what he deserved, he has brought it upon himself. Don't tell me you feel sorry for him."
Clarke struggles with words for a moment, staggered by a complete lack of sympathy for her brother. Forgiveness wasn't expected though. Only a few seconds later, she finds the proper words.
"No of course not, I just assumed that it wouldn't be easy for you to see him roughed up as a prisoner or servant or whatever you want to call this predicament."
The elevator jolts and shakes when it hits the ground, interrupting their stream of conversation. A gust of wind whirls through them as soon as the attendants open the doors for them.
"Mochof." Clarke acknowledges them politely before exiting after Octavia.
"Your- The Commander." The sassy girl catches the words on her tongue. "The Commander is already going easy enough on him. He is lucky that he wasn't killed in battle or brutally punished. He can manage a trip or two."
They hang a left into the direction of the courtyard and slush through the remaining snow. Clarke agrees with Octavia, that Bellamy has gotten a deserved punishment. It is still difficult to observe the pain of someone that she use to consider a partner and a trusted ally. If it weren't for him, maybe she wouldn't have gotten shot. Their alliance wouldn't have nearly been shattered. Excessive blood shed could have been avoided. And Lexa's life and command would not have been questioned and threatened repeatedly.
The recollection crawls from her shoulders and balls at her fists. A flash of her punching Bellamy comes to the front of her mind. Maybe she could right now.
"Princess." Octavia repeats louder and it actually resonates in Clarke's brain this time.
And when Clarke finally looks at her, she continues. "Where is it that you saw her last?"
Clarke points at the thick bare tree at the very edge of the courtyard, where she had seen the Ice Nation girl just over Octavia's shoulder.
"There is still snow on the ground, maybe we can track a trail." Octavia says, moving swiftly to the spot, staring intently down at the snow.
"I doubt it." Clarke sighs. "The snow isn't as hard or thick as it was before. Her footprints would have melted together by now probably." She stares at the spot that her and Lexa trained only hours ago, unable to distinguish definitive footprints from them.
Her point goes unheard or is completely disregarded because Octavia is searching around the tree trunk, glancing up in a few directions.
"You didn't see where she went?"
"No. I looked away for a second and then she was gone. I don't know how long she was there for. I'm assuming she went away from the tower though."
Octavia nods in response this time, staring in the general direction away from the tower and the main grounds around it.
"I didn't see her or anyone pass through the training grounds. Lincoln or one of the Natblidas would have said something. That's too many people to go unnoticed."
As stealthy as Ontari might be, she wouldn't have slipped past all of them. A hooded figure would have drawn alarming attention to them.
"Let's stay south west mostly." Octavia suggests, already heading that way down the small hill on the other side of the training grounds. "Please don't wander off. Stay close. If you see her or anything else suspicious, let me know. I don't need Lexa to behead me if something happens to you."
Clarke huffs, staying less than a foot behind her guide. "I'll do my best. Anyway, Lexa wouldn't kill you for that."
She doesn't need to see Octavia's face to know she is rolling her eyes before Octavia flings a mocking scowl over her shoulder. "I think that's the only thing she would kill me or anyone for at this point."
Before Clarke can argue back, Octavia raises her hand up in the air. That compels Clarke to stop inaudibly so the warrior can scan the area. An area that seemed to be clear of anything except the filthy snow. But, her thorough guide checks behind the couple of big trees nearby.
When she retreats without a word, Clarke continues with their disagreement. "You know Lincoln would do the same for you. Kill me if anything were to happen to you."
"No, he wouldn't." Octavia shakes her head. "He would see this as me protecting you. Because he would do the same for you, for me, for Lexa. But, Lexa would see this as me putting you in danger and that someone took her niron away. Again."
Take her niron away. Again. Rings in her ears. Between the pain of Costia's fate and the sheer panic over Clarke's almost fatal fate, she knows Lexa could not endure that again. That it would break her this time. And Octavia might be right. If she weren't so worried for Lexa's safety also, she would get back to the safety of the tower.
She can't though. If anything were to happen to Lexa, she wouldn't be able to endure it either.
Twenty minutes pass and they are walking through crowds of citizens in the markets, everyone dressed too similar to tell them apart. They try to catch a glimpse of their faces as they pass by. Octavia is met with a few more smiles, than Clarke is, probably because she is actively seen with the Nightbloods with Lincoln at her side. And she appears as an authentic Trikru warrior.
After weaving through the crowds, Clarke spots a dark wool hood wrapped around a head that is facing toward a merchant. Clarke stops, observing the individual more closely, appearing to be a similar height as her, wearing pitch-black pants with boots half way up her calves.
Octavia finally notices that Clarke has stopped and comes back to stand next to her and follows her eye line.
"Do you think that's…?"
At that moment, the suspect turns around and clutches a newly bought item tight in their hand. The hood casts too many shadows on their facial features while they look down. But when they lift their head, the thick marks read like writing on the wall.
"That's her." Clarke faintly growls.
They march slowly towards her at first but when Octavia lifts her dark eyes and spots them pushing through the crowd. She runs.
The pair takes off after her, pushing and shoving through the crowds of people. Citizens yell and mumble at them in a mixture of languages. Clarke is too focused on trying to keep up with Octavia that she doesn't have time to apologize.
Luckily, Octavia is faster and more athletic, that she trails close behind Ontari. But, when they meet a cross roads, a young boy collides with Octavia and she loses site of their target.
"Sorry." The young boy mutters with his head hanging low.
"It's okay." Octavia lightly taps his back, spinning around to see if she can spot the lost runner.
Clarke catches up to her and sucks in deep breaths to fill her lungs, "do you see where she went?"
Attempting to stand as high as she can on the tips of her boots, looking over heads, Octavia sighs in frustration and shakes her head. "I lost her."
Clarke spins in a half circle and runs her hand through her hair, not seeing her either. "She's definitely up to something."
Octavia nods. "She wouldn't have taken off otherwise. I wish we had caught her, so we could figure this out."
Possibilities rattle in her brain. What if it was a bottle of poison or a toxin in her hand? Like how she wanted to do that to Nia to save Lexa before. Or a poisonous dart. They wouldn't sell that so causally on the streets, would they? It could be nothing.
A touch to the elbow brings her out of her anxiety-filled over thinking. "We will figure this out, Clarke. I'll let Lincoln know what's going on. I was considering telling Indra but…"
"Don't tell Indra." Clarke groans. "I don't need to give her another reason to hate me."
Octavia laughs airily through her nose. "She doesn't hate you. Well, not as much as she use to." She comes more serious when Clarke doesn't laugh along with her. "it's just taken Indra while to adjust to Skaikru. She doesn't hate you though, she's just protective over Lexa."
"Just please don't tell, Indra. Not yet."
"If things start to escalate, I'm telling her. It's either that or tell Lexa. And that means Indra would find out anyway."
She can already feel those dark eyes burning into her with Indra's glare, that is tangled with an I told you so.
"Fine." Clarke accepts her defeat, knowing it's better to deal with that glare than the alternative of a Lexa over-protective freak out that could cause her to retreat back to love is weakness.
The pair retrace their path through the market, a silent agreement to return to the tower and to escape the freezing air.
The moon is already high in the sky when Lexa slinks through her chamber doors. Her limbs are heavy with the length of the day. It's quiet in her room but she can hear the faint sound of Clarke's steady breathing. She smiles at the small lump under the furs, facing away from her.
Her smile stretches to her ears when she opens her wardrobe and sees Clarke's belongings packed in with hers. At some point, she may consider ordering a wardrobe just for Clarke, since her Commander gear takes up a significant amount of space. For now, this seems even more real and permanent. And that they aren't sneaking into each other's chambers at night, finding excuses to stay. This space is now her and Clarke's.
After she drops a sleep shirt over her head, she realizes her braids are still in. She doesn't want to call in a handmaiden and awake Clarke. So, she pinches a few strands of hair to unweave as she walks to her bathroom to stand in front of the mirror.
The knots loosen when she combs her fingers through her hair a couple of times then she returns to her bedroom. A comforting warmth spreads in her chest when she scoots under the covers and towards her lover. Not wanting to wake her, she gingerly slips an arm around her waist and presses against her back. She inhales Clarke's familiar scent, that is prickled with pine undertones today.
Her eyes grow heavier under the smell and her breathing falls deeper in her chest and she's nearly asleep when it happens. Clarke harshly jerks in her arms then shoots up with a loud gasp and a wail.
"Clarke." Lexa shoves herself up with her elbows.
And Clarke turns to her with wild eyes with tears clinging to the corners. "Lexa?" Her voice roughly shakes in disbelief.
It nearly breaks Lexa's heart. "It's okay. It was only a nightmare."
Clarke barely nods, her lip quivering and reaching out for Lexa's face, tracing her cheek bones and jawline with two fingers. Then she leans into her. It constricts Lexa's throat, she rubs her back soothingly.
"Do you want to talk about it, Hodnes?"
Clarke shakes her head against her and scoots closer. Though she understands Clarke's unwillingness to talk about it, it still activates a sinking in her gut. It's selfish and it shouldn't cause her to worry but Lexa can't help to think if Clarke is having nightmares about her leaving her at Mount Weather.
Some of her anxiety is relived when Clarke inclines more weight on to her until Lexa gets the hint to lie back down. Clarke curls into her side, nuzzling her head into her chest, seeking her heart beat out with her ear. Lexa's fingers trail up Clarke's spine and through the back of her hair. She has to bend her head upward to place a kiss on Clarke's head.
It's almost as if Clarke is attempting to comfort her because her hand slips below the hem of her top and rubs soothing circles along her belly. And when her hand lightly brushes over her ribs, Lexa breaks out in goose bumps that read like brail. Lexa's heart beat relaxes and warms as Clarke simply wraps an around her stomach and hugs her close, maintaining the small skin to skin contact.
"I love you." Clarke hums the words into her heart with unknown emotion racking behind them.
"I love you, too." Lexa breathes out, thankful that Clarke is curled safely in her arms.