This is officially my longest fic eva! Imma have to kill everyone off real quick now...but I'll let you finish after I give a ninety minute speech...wait, what?
But seriously, thanks to everyone who has stuck with this thing for as long as you have. Y'all are great. :)
The air was crisp and somewhat biting, and her calf still troubled her, but she nonetheless felt like going for a walk shortly after Clarke left. The girl could be so unreasonable at times, it drove Lexa mad. Always being ruled by emotion was not conducive of much, other than bad decisions. Lexa hoped that in time, Clarke would learn to see things more clearly, more her own way.
Her guard remained many paces back and off to the side, giving her space, but ready to intervene in a moments notice lest someone or something attack. Once this constant shadow would have vexed her greatly, never having a single moment to herself, except in sleep. Now she barely paid them any mind, and simply tried to enjoy the serene Autumn morning, before some new dilemma required her attention.
She didn't get very far before she came across someone hunched over, digging in the rain softened dirt with their bare hands. Even from the back, the profile seemed familiar and she slowed her step and moved to a better vantage point. She silently watched as Clarke's father lifted up a small tree, really more of a shrub than anything, and placed it in the hole. Instinctively she knew it was the Eden tree and that it held great meaning for some of Clarke's people. Lexa wanted to tell him that now was really not the season to be planting anything, that winter would be upon them soon, that it might die if it didn't have enough time to grow sturdy roots before the harsh chill came, but she couldn't bring herself to interrupt his peaceful progress. And she assumed he must have already known the risk. He had a great intellect.
When he was done patting the dirt down and securing the tree, he stood up, wiping his hands off on his pants, and began muttering something to himself. Though she had remarkable hearing, it was hard to make out his words. What she could discern didn't make much sense. It might have been a prayer, might not have been. Whatever it was, Clarke was not familiar with it.
Rather than continue on and pretend like she hadn't been watching and listening, she remained standing there until he turned around a bit and noticed her presence.
After his surprise wore off, he smiled at her and said, "You really need to teach me that trick." She raised an eyebrow. "How to be a ninja." Since she didn't immediately respond he continued, "Oh, right, that means-"
"I know what it means, Jake of the Sky People."
He smiled again. "Jake's fine." He glanced down at the Eden tree. As if he had read her mind, "This tree was genetically modified to survive extreme conditions. It'll be fine." He looked back over at her. "I was just saying goodbye to all those that sacrificed themselves so that we could be here."
Lexa dipped her eyes in understanding.
Jake started walking towards her. She shook her head almost imperceptibly towards her guard as they raised their bow.
"In all that craziness...I never got to properly thank you for saving my life." He held out his dirty hand and she clasped it and shook the way the sky people did. "Mochof, heda."
"Lexa's fine," she replied smoothly, earning a smirk from the man. "And you're welcome."
He turned away, taking a deep lungful of the cold air. "Sure is bracing out...and beautiful. It'll be a shame when winter comes and sweeps away all this colour." Jake glanced sideways at her. "Wish I could bottle it up, ya know?"
She nodded. Lexa relied on the vibrant paintings in her home in Polis to get her through the dreary months ahead. Briefly she wondered if perhaps Clarke might be able to add to her collection.
They stood there in silence, but it wasn't awkward. More peaceful than anything. She watched as a few birds lifted out of the fire red canopy, twirling around each other, completely free and unburdened. The longer he stood there beside her, the more she came to understand he wanted to say something else. Was this going to be an 'if you hurt my daughter, I will hurt you back' kind of speech? Blood must have blood. And sure enough...
"You know, Clarke was my father's name. He really dotted on my unborn child, talked to her regularly through my wife's stomach. Abby thought it was ridiculous, illogical behaviour."
Lexa agreed.
"But when he died before she was born, I took up the tradition, and Abby never rolled her eyes again." He grinned, "I even caught her once in the act. Teased her mercilessly about it."
Lexa smirked.
"We were originally going to call her Carmilla, Carm for short."
Lexa narrowed her eyes and he laughed. "Yeah, kind of glad we decided against it. Doesn't really suit her, does it?"
She shook her head.
"Anyway, my point is that things don't always turn out the way we expect them to. In fact, they rarely do." He placed a hand on her shoulder and she stiffened against it at first, but quickly relaxed into the touch, warning off her guard with just her eyes. "So even though you are one of the last people I ever envisioned seeing Clarke with...and despite the less savoury aspects...necessities of your command, you sound like a good person...and I believe you'll treat her right..."
She felt a sudden surge of guilt over her inadvertent and epic ass slap, and stiffened under his hand again. Paranoid, she wondered if he knew the particulars of what had happened and was plotting his revenge even now.
"...and always put her first..."
Lexa swallowed hard. She loved Clarke more than she ever thought possible, but to put her above all of her people...Lexa couldn't do it...it wasn't in her nature.
"Or else," he finished in a manner that was far from threatening. They both knew he couldn't really raise a hand against her without starting another war.
Still, the need to be honest was overwhelming. "If I could, I would," she said thickly. "I would choose my heart over my head for her always...but I can't guarantee that in future."
His hand fell away, accompanied with a deep sigh. "I know." This time the silence between them was uncomfortable. "But I had to at least try to be menacing, right?" he said, attempting to lighten the mood. "Father's duty and all that?"
Lexa inclined her head, smiling slightly. "You are a good father, Jake. Clarke is lucky to have you."
Being in a bad mood, her companions (Raven, Octavia and Bellamy) didn't try to talk to her and instead marvelled at the world around. Ryder and Trix rode at the back of the pack, so silent that she kept forgetting they were there. Only her mother didn't have enough common sense not to poke the bear.
Clumsily, she steered her horse up beside Clarke's and said, "Are you ever going to tell me what happened in the commander's tent?"
Clarke ignored her even as her ass throbbed painfully again.
Her mother sighed. "I know we haven't talked much since-"
"You locked me up?" Clarke finished for her, clenching her fist tight around the rein, praying for patience. She had a short fuse at the best of times and the continuous discomfort below was not going to help it burn any slower. "Or since you thought I was crazy?"
"Clarke, you have to know, I didn't want you to be...I hoped there was another explanation..."
"But you didn't believe me," she said, bitterly, "even with all your tests."
"If you had been in my position," defended Abby, "would you really have thought any differently?"
"Dad believed me," she said stubbornly, still refusing to look at her mother directly.
Her mom bristled. "We both know your father has always been the more idealistic of the two of us."
"Yeah, must be so tough to put up with that everyday," she replied sarcastically. "Must be why you betrayed him."
That hit the intended mark and her mom audibly gasped and when she spoke next, her voice was faintly tremulous. "Clarke...I never meant for any of that to happen..."
"Didn't you?" she shot back scathingly, glaring at her head on. "What else did you expect, mom?!" And then because she was just about done with their pointless conversation, "If it wasn't for Lexa, you'd be widowed and I'd be orphaned." It took her mom a second to realize she meant Clarke would've disowned her. When she understood, the tears pricked at her eyes and her lip trembled. Clarke felt vaguely bad for her outburst, but not nearly enough to squeeze out an apology. Still, the bite was significantly less as she said, "So I'd appreciate it if you'd save whatever speech you have planned about how she isn't good for me."
Her ass throbbed viciously right then.
Meekly, "I wasn't going to-
"Maybe not, but you were thinking it," she said, becoming aware of the sudden quiet that had descended on their little motley crew.
Not wanting to be around any of them right then, she rode on ahead and that's when she caught the tail end of another conversation, one miles away from there...
"...good father, Jake. Clarke is lucky to have you."
She only debated for a second whether or not to go there, and then she was standing in the snug space between her father and Lexa, an instant sensation of tranquillity, of warmth - and a twinge of sadness - flowing through. It didn't dawn on her until later that she had drawn a very similar scene in her cell, the only real difference being that she herself wasn't technically present. She would smile about this often, and fondly, as the days went by.
"Good morning, Clarke," Lexa said without moving a muscle or attempting to give her more room. She could have moved over and into her dad, but she didn't feel like it and instead pressed into Lexa's side tightly.
Her dad glanced around the area as if he actually expected to be able to locate her visually. "Where is she?"
"Your daughter is between us, Jake," replied Lexa, hands behind her back.
He turned and smiled. "Hey, kiddo." It didn't take him long to clue into Lexa's less than cordial reception so he said, "Well, I've got some things to take care of back at the ship." He waved through her face, a rather strange visual sensation. "See ya later, Clarke." He half smirked. "Have mercy on your girl."
After a brief silence she turned towards Lexa, wondering just how mad she was for acting so stupidly. "Lexa, I'm-"
"I know."
"You just hit me really hard and..."
"I know."
"...it felt like you broke my ass..."
"I know."
"...but I was an idiot for teasing you in the first place so..."
"Clarke." Lexa finally turned to look at her.
"...we're agreed that we're both sorry?"
Lexa glanced down in answer. It seemed like forever ago that she had seen Lexa clean faced like this. Her beauty and her youth was always magnified without the war paint. She looked so normal, so fragile without it.
Clarke placed a hand behind her neck and pulled her face closer but didn't land. Lexa blinked up from her lips in confusion. Clarke looked her straight in the eye and as sternly as she could muster considering their proximity said, "If you ever do that again, I will literally kick your ass."
Lexa raised an eyebrow and then smirked a little, as if she thought the threat held little water. It probably did, but it still annoyed Clarke that she wasn't being taken seriously at all. "I will be sure to keep my hands to myself, Clarke." Her eyes glinted mischievously. "Scouts honour."
Clarke rolled her eyes, kissed her sharply for a second and then abruptly left before Lexa could touch her.
Clarke!
Lexa hadn't expressly asked Clarke to make a detour to the relocated encampment a couple of miles away from what remained of Tondc. In fact, Clarke was pretty sure Lexa would have expressly told her not to come here if they had actually talked before leaving.
She wasn't entirely sure why she insisted on it either. There wasn't much she could do for the wounded that hadn't already been done by the capable healers of the various clans. When it came down to it, she supposed there really was only one reason.
She wanted to finally meet the thorn in her side. Better to do it while she was less deadly than usual.
It took some doing to get Lexa's people to tell her which tent housed Anya. If not for Trix and Ryder's presence, the people surely would have attacked them outright, rather than just glare at them in thinly veiled hostility as she made her request on behalf of the commander. Even so, they were required to hand over their weapons before entering the camp, something Clarke did not feel entirely pleased about.
There weren't that many tents set up for the wounded, so it didn't come as much of a surprise that both Gustus and Anya resided in the same one, two hulking guards posted just outside. She had no allusions about her position here. If she made any kind of move construed as a danger, they would not hesitate to strike her down, commander's blessing or no.
Clarke told the others to remain outside, but Ryder refused to leave her side. Lexa had probably told him not to, so she didn't argue as they both pushed through the flaps and set her own eyes on Lexa's best friend. Anya was bruised and beaten from the Azgeda battle, and wore only a light, clean tunic, no armour in sight. A dagger (the same one Anya had tossed while deliberating whether or not to spill the beans to the clan leaders) still resided on the table beside her and Clarke was vaguely disquieted about that, wondering if the woman might stab her, thinking she was doing Lexa a favour.
After all, 'Such softness was not befitting of the commander.'
Anya appeared to be asleep so she turned towards Gustus, immediately anxious at the pale, blood drained colour of his skin, and instinctively went over to his side. He eyed her in weary, confused interest and put up no resistance as she laid the back of her hand on his forehead. The skin was cold and clammy and not exactly optimal. Then again, the fact that he was still alive after being shot three times was rather impressive, and if he hadn't gone yet, he probably wouldn't later on.
"You'll be fine," she told him in Trigedasleng, trying to reassure herself, just as much as him. "You're strong. Your fight is far from over."
He just looked at her with increasing interest. "The commander said the same thing," he replied with a slight wry smile, as if he didn't believe her either. Languidly, he raised an arm that she hastened to grasp. "Hei, Klark kom Skaikru."
"Hei, Gostos."
"I am glad to see my faith was not misplaced." He gripped her forearm a little tighter, pulling her closer. "Her life is in your hands now, Clarke," he whispered. "Do not make it forfeit."
Meaning, no one approved of her and she would have to make them accept her as the commander's equal, or they would both be in trouble.
"I don't plan on it," she said solemnly. Then because she felt the need to reassure further, "I'm actually on my way to the mountain now, to round up some reapers and turn them back into men."
The normally stoic, unreadable man gaped at her slightly.
A sarcastic voice broke their intense eye contact. "You are even more of a fool than I expected."
Expected?
Clarke laid Gustus' arm back down on the bed, patted his hand and then turned to face Anya, who had propped herself up against a fur lined pillow.
"Oh, so you did believe I was real after all?"
Anya thought about her wording for a moment and then glared at Clarke, realizing her mistake. Clarke knew she shouldn't be antagonizing the recuperating woman, but she just couldn't help it. Her insolent, arrogant behaviour always rubbed Clarke the wrong way.
Anya's blood shot eyes looked her up and down quickly. "I don't know what she sees in you. You are no warrior." Smirking, "The children could easily defeat you. I could easily defeat you, even as I am now."
Clarke huffed and then fell for the bait like an idiot. "Would you like to put your money where your mouth is?"
Clearly Anya didn't have any trouble getting her meaning because she was removing the furs and swinging her legs over the side.
Oh shit!
She didn't know what to do. She couldn't back down or forever risk looking weak to the woman. But she couldn't actually fight Anya because a) she probably would get her ass handed to her resulting in the first outcome, and b) Lexa would definitely kill her for impeding her best friends recovery. Ryder didn't look like he planned on interfering, in fact, she thought he was probably giddy at the prospect of the bad mannered sky girl getting her come uppence. Then again, she couldn't fucking read him at all.
"Now who is the fool?" muttered Gustus.
Anya spared him a withering glare before setting her calculating sights back on Clarke, swaying slightly now that she was on her bare feet. Thankfully she didn't opt to snatch up the dagger and bury it in her chest.
Before Anya could take a swing at her, inspiration struck. "I thought it was customary to be indebted to those that saved their lives?"
That stilled the woman, spine gone rigid. "I owe you nothing, sky girl."
"Oh really?" she pressed on, resisting the very strong urge to back away. Instead, she took a step closer, getting a bit into Anya's personal space. She took a deep breath before saying, "'Cause I'm pretty sure you'd be a pile of ashes right about now if it wasn't for me." Clarke forced herself to smirk as she looked down. "Those are some soft lips you got there, lukot."
Anya clenched a bandaged fist, absolutely seething. "I won't let you control the commander ever again!"
The injured woman lunged at her and Clarke instinctively pivoted out of the way. Movements slowed by pain, Anya sloppily redirected back at her, and so began a cat and mouse game inside the confines of the medical tent, Clarke occasionally hopping on and over Anya's bed to get away. Under different circumstances it might have been humorous. Clarke was just hoping to stay out of her way long enough to tire her out and get her to back off, so that maybe they could have a civil conversation. The other inhabitants were watching with mild interest, anything to break up the tedium and pain of their days.
"Only cowards prance around like a deer!" puffed Anya, clearly losing steam and irritated by her lack of stamina.
"Only idiots attack someone after being shot!"
Anya snarled and lunged once more. Unfortunately, this time, Clarke misjudged her location in the relatively tight space and bashed her ass into one of the bedside tables. It was like getting slapped all over again. The excruciating agony made her come to a halt and left her an easy target for the heavily panting warrior to lay her hands on her and rip her to shreds.
Fuck!
Except that never came to pass because Ryder had finally stepped in at the last second and calmly collected Anya against his broad chest, just like Clarke's father had done on more than one occasion. The difference being Anya looked like a rag doll in his massive biceps.
"Unhand me!" snapped Anya, feebly struggling against the solid bearded man.
"No," he said simply. He looked towards Clarke with barely discernible puzzlement. "The commander does not want this one harmed."
As if being summoned, Lexa appeared and glared between the two women. Absentmindedly Clarke wondered if her ass bang had brought her here in such a bad mood, or if the rapidly deteriorating situation was enough on its own.
"What is the meaning of this, Clarke?"
Umm...
While Clarke frantically tried to collect her wits and come up with a reasonable excuse for antagonizing Anya, Raven popped her head in. "Hey Clarke, you about ready to-" The dark haired girl stopped in her tracks, glancing around at everyone, eyes settling on the struggling warrior in an oddly appraising manner. "Everything okay here?"
"Yeah, everything's good. And yeah, I'm ready to go." She zoomed through an irate Lexa, 'Clarke!', past Anya and Ryder, muttered, "You just saved my life...again," to Raven and continued out into freedom.
A little more levity for y'all.
Clarke's kind of a dumb dumb, ain't she?
Lukot means friend.
#Raya? Yay or nay?