So...I'm thinking there's only going to be a couple more chaps at this point, so be prepared to say goodbye to our little mind melding gay babies.
With the battles at an end, and the once reaper men as healed as they were ever going to get, Lexa's people scattered back to their own lands. Which was a necessity as the addition of nearly one thousand mouths to feed was a considerable strain on this area of the forests resources. If they had all cohabited for much longer, food levels would have dwindled to such low levels as to beg for further strife. Even so, times were less than ideal food wise.
With winter coming, and some of the animals beginning to go into hibernation, the arkers were hard pressed to secure enough food to make it through the long, dreary months. The remaining supplies on the too crowded drop ship would not last more than another two weeks. So the decision was made to split their people in half. Around five hundred of the younger and frailer arkers had gone to live in the mountain, in relative safety and security.
The drop ship had been gutted to make room for the additional ninety-seven of them, and for general comfort. It now resembled a massive dorm room, people and things scattered haphazardly, no space gone to waste. Solar powered generators supplied heat for the behemoth structure and ensured that they wouldn't at least all freeze to death come winter.
Only having a truce, and a tenuous one at that, Lexa had not been able to offer much in the way of assistance. At least not directly. Any grounders who wanted to help them were welcome to it, but none were commanded to hunt for the sky people, or otherwise assist in winter preparations. Many of the younger generation had learned theoretical and basic survival skills on the Ark. But Clarke, thanks to Lexa, knew considerably more than this, and along with Lincoln and Echo could lead her people to the preferred hunting grounds at specific times of day to catch certain game, making their jobs easier, though still far from simple.
A lot of the arkers looked to Clarke as their leader, but being only seventeen, she could not officially take the title. That once more belonged to Jaha, the only person willing to take on the ill fated position.
The queen's head had been retrieved a day or so after her death, and promptly sent to the Ice Nation, giving Lexa a morbid sense of closure. If the surviving members had any sense, they would finally bend the knee and join her coalition. To aid in this outcome, Lexa had needed to go there to make sure a suitable replacement was chosen...as she had to do for two of the other clans as well. Since Clarke was needed at camp, they had parted ways again, only a few days after their first bed romp, which had left both considerably depleted.
Though they kept in touch every day, to talk, to train, to sleep together, in both its connotations, they had never felt lonelier. Now that they knew what it was like to be around one another in person, it wasn't enough 'in spirit'. Still, Clarke kept up a brave face and threw herself wholeheartedly into ensuring her people's survival. Only those closest to her had an inkling of the depths of her sadness.
Finally, the day after Christmas, she had had enough. It seemed as though everyone had someone now, even Wells, and she couldn't stand the separation any longer. She asked Raven to come with her to Polis (Finn had moved on alarmingly fast after their messy breakup and he was now onto his third girl since Raven, and no doubt would find himself in anothers bed before the year was out) but the stubborn mechanic declined saying there was always something else that needed fixing. However, Jake reassured her that he and his colleagues could handle the camps upkeep, so off the two of them went, with a few hugs and kisses and no mention of a guard detail. Everyone knew Clarke could handle herself with a blade; a blade she treasured above all her other possessions, because Lexa had gifted it to her before her departure, as well as a heavily fox fur lined coat and matching grey gloves.
The Arkers had fashioned their own winter clothing, albeit much cruder than the finely tailored calf length hooded coat Clarke wore. Yes, they brought down their own skilled clothing makers, but they weren't accustomed to the materials at hand, or doing everything by hand, and consequently weren't producing their best efforts just yet.
To make the trek feasible, the bundled up girls took two of the five horses in the Arkers possession. Navigating their way around the heavy snowdrifts severely impeded their progress, but there was nothing for it, and it was still considerably better than walking. As always, Clarke instinctively knew where she was headed, even with the usual landmarks masked in layers of virgin snow.
There wasn't much need for conversation, so the majority of their two day journey was completed in silence. That is, until they had an unexpected visitor that second night. They were in the middle of dinner when the horses started to paw at the snow, snuffling, clearly agitated by something. Clarke shared a look with Raven and then they both reached for their respective weapons; Clarke her sword, Raven her bow.
Blade unsheathed, Clarke crept as silently as she could considering the crunchy snow underfoot. It was full dark now, with nothing but an obscured moon and the small, crackling fire behind them for light. She scanned the area, looking for signs of an intruder, but seeing and hearing nothing except for the increasingly unnerved animals.
"I know you're out there!" she called to the darkened trees all around. "Show yourself!"
Predictably there was no response and she stood her ground, listening, waiting for them to make a move.
When they did, she found herself frozen to the spot.
As if re-living her own trauma, she watched wide eyed as a great wolf emerged from behind a pile of snow. In reality, it was the pile of snow. Vision distorted by a sudden crippling fear, she imagined the beast to be even more monstrous in size than it actually was. To her it seemed like her sword was nothing but a dagger compared to its immensity.
With large glowing green eyes, that were disturbingly similar to Lexa's own, it observed her unconcernedly, but with some interest nonetheless.
Lexa appeared then, equally shaken as her, but more clear headed. "Whatever you do, Clarke, don't look away. It will pounce at the first sign of weakness." Lexa's warm breath ghosted off her chilled neck, raising the hairs. "Take a deep breath. Remain calm."
Easier said than done, she wanted to retort, but couldn't because of the terror seizing her vocal chords.
"Breathe, Clarke," she prompted again, her own voice quavering. "Breathe."
She did so, willing herself to exude confidence and fearlessness as she had done many times before while on the hunt. The wolf continued to approach slowly, eyes never leaving hers, and then stopped and stared about some distance away, flicking its huge bushy tail. She hoped it would get bored of this uneventful standoff and simply leave, and it might have, if Raven hadn't lost her nerve and loosed an arrow.
"No!" said Lexa, panicking, immobilizing Clarke.
The arrow pierced its side doing little more than enraging it. Ears pressed back, it snarled and bounded towards its attacker, in gigantic strides. Raven was bowled over before she could shoot again, but thankfully the raised bow acted as a temporary shield against massive fangs intent on ripping her to shreds.
"Raven!" Clarke screamed, finally springing into action.
She jumped towards the fiend, slashing and stabbing at its back and hind legs, trying to draw its attention away from the girl beneath it before the bow snapped in half. This she accomplished just as the polished wood cracked, and then some. The wolf whirled on her instead, teeth bared, and lunged.
"Clarke!" yelled both Raven and Lexa as it raised a mighty claw and swiped at her.
Somehow she managed to evade the worst of the blow - most of it glancing off the tree beside her, tearing through the frozen bark like it was silk - and only took a single talon in the leg. Still, the razor sharp curve ripped clean through her coat and pants and brought forth fox fur and dark crimson. Reflexively, she slashed at it again, clipping its chest, barely making a dent.
Clarke rolled out of the way of its next swat, leaving a thin semi-circular trail of blood in her wake, not unlike the wolf itself. Hurting and incensed, it wasn't going to back down, so she was immediately assailed with more attempts to tear open her stomach and feast on the entrails within. It was only with frantic parrying of her sword that she was able to fend off the hell beast at all. Completely on the defensive now, she was unable to land a single blow, tiring fast, constantly fearful of stepping into a deep drift of snow or bumping into a tree and getting herself stuck, and dead.
"Save yourself!" she shouted to Raven with as must gusto as she could muster.
Finally, it caught almost her entire arm in its jaws, wrenching sideways with such force that there was a sickening crack as her forearm broke, the pain of which made her drop her sword. Then it swung its enormous head sideways and flung her ten feet into a tree. Lights exploded in the back of her skull and she fought to remain conscious. Bleeding and broken on the ground, she knew she was done for then and looked for Lexa, wanting her angelic face to the be the last thing she saw. Dishearteningly, she was nowhere to be found, and Clarke gloomily surrendered herself to her fate.
The wolf stalked slowly towards her, as if savouring the final moment before the kill. Suddenly it jerked back as something else grabbed its attention. She could just make out the second protruding shaft from its other massive side.
"No, Raven," she said weakly, sinking into the snow. "Run."
It took the bait again and turned on its bleeding haunches and charged at the small, seemingly insignificant dark form. When it was some distance away, there was a sudden explosion of fur and flesh, raining down hot and sizzling upon contact with the snow. Startled, she jumped slightly in her prone position, wondering if it had somehow stepped on a mine like Murphy and his friends.
"Clarke!" called Raven, sprinting over to her as fast as the terrain would allow. She dropped her Frankenstein bow, jerry rigged together with whatever had been on hand, and assessed how badly Clarke was injured. "Fuck," she hissed. "Fuck that bastard."
Clarke was afraid to look herself, but did anyway. She flinched at the row of deep fang marks, at the way her arm bent out at an unnatural angle, feeling once more nauseated from such an attack. Without question, this one was considerably worse than the reaper bite. By some miracle the wolf's massive jaw hadn't taken her arm clean off at the the shoulder.
"I'll be right back," Raven said, hopping up and dashing back to their supplies. If the horses hadn't been so well tied to the trees, they would have lost everything in their fright.
Having picked up a fair amount of first aid from Clarke over the past couple of months, Raven knew what to do, and got to it, turning on a flashlight to see better.
Her face stung suddenly as Raven slapped her. "Stay awake now. You can't go into shock out here."
Clarke nodded dully and distracted herself from the considerable amount of pain by staring dizzily at the remains of the great wolf. Steam still billowed out of its intact back half, with no apparent cause.
Raven must have noticed her gaze because she answered her unasked question. "Explosive arrows. Early prototype. Haven't had a chance to test them out in action though." She smirked slightly, though her features were clearly still strained at the incredibly close call at losing her friend. "Lucky for me that it worked or I would've been joining you on that things dinner menu."
"Of course it worked," she said faintly. "You're awesome."
Raven chuckled, securing the final bandages in place, stemming the flow of blood from a number of deep lacerations. Whatever surgery was required would need to wait until after they got to Polis. And even then, she wasn't quite sure what they could for her besides resetting the bone and giving her a cast. Clarke wasn't relishing the rest of the ride there, though thankfully it wasn't too much further.
As Raven was fashioning a sling, she said, "Where's your girl at?"
Clarke clamped her jaw shut, willing herself not to cry at Lexa's abandonment in her final moment of need. "I don't know. She was here...but then she...wasn't."
Raven said nothing at first, gently taking her mangled arm and lifting it into the sling. "I'm sure she had her reasons." She tied the top knot. "You can go to her if you want. I don't mind."
Clarke wasn't sure that she did want to at that particular moment in time, but she went anyway. She found herself in Lexa's house, a fire crackling in the hearth, and Lexa herself huddled up on the couch, hair awry, visibly shaking, clearly just finishing up a recent bout of heavy crying.
She was about to console Lexa when the woman's head snapped up, glaring at her. "Why didn't you take a proper guard with you?!"
Clarke opened her mouth to speak when Lexa jumped off the couch and down her throat. "Don't tell me you didn't think you needed one! It's the dead of winter, Clarke! How many times do I have to tell you how dangerous it is!"
Lexa advanced on her, teeth bared, and Clarke had the unsettling feeling of facing her second wolf for the night. She shrunk back, unable to respond.
"You know what happened to my mother!" she continued, pressing Clarke into the wall, cornering off her escape. "You know how losing her nearly destroyed me! And yet you still went off like a fool! And for what?!"
Reinvigorated by Lexa's own indignation, she finally launched an offensive. "Well, excuse me for wanting to see my girlfriend!"
"You see me everyday!" roared Lexa, gesturing angrily with her hand. "You see me right now!"
"It's not the same thing, and you know it!" Clarke pushed forward, making Lexa back away. "If it was so dangerous, you could've come to me!"
"What?!" she snapped, apparently not following.
"After your duties were concluded, you could've come to me!" Clarke bit her lip to prevent shedding of tears. Still, she couldn't stop her voice from breaking as she whispered, "Why didn't you come back to me? You said you would never let me go...but then you did."
A worked up Lexa's face fell and she turned away. Her voice was thick with repressed emotion when she next spoke. "It's not that simple, Clarke. I am the commander of twelve clans."
She paused, and Clarke imagined she was thinking, 'of which you aren't a part.'
"My duties never end. I thought you understood this."
"I did...I do, but it's not fair." The tears were flowing now, partially from the current situation and partially from the intense and sharp throbbing in her arm and her leg. "I want you all to myself. I want it to be just the two of us, even if it's just for a little while." She stepped into Lexa's space, resting her forehead against Lexa's, trying to get a hold of herself but failing. "I need you, Lexa," she sobbed. "There's no point without you."
Eyes pained, Lexa swallowed. "Thank you, Clarke."
"For what?" she asked, confused out of her misery enough to cock a brow.
Lexa kissed her forehead softly before pressing them back together. "For living. Tonight. Always. Thank you." She took Clarke's head to her breast, a feeling of bittersweet serenity enveloping her. "Clarke," she said after a little while, pulling back to look her in the eye, "I know you're hurting right now, but you have to keep moving. It's not safe to linger. All that blood will attract further predators. Polis is only a few more hours ride from your current position." A hint of a smile pressed her lips as she touched Clarke's face. "I'll meet you along the way. Just hold on until then."
Clarke nodded wearily as Lexa took her leave. She went back to her body to find that Raven had thrown a thermal blanket on her while she finished packing up the tent and their other supplies. She watched groggily as Raven then tied the two horses together with a bit of spare rope. Clarke was puzzled until Raven came to collect her, hoisting her onto the one horse with difficulty and then climbing on behind her.
For the third time in as many months, she went for a ride with another, though this was considerably the least pleasant of the lot. Constantly on the verge of passing out, Raven had to keep talking in her ear to make sure they were staying on track. They seemed to move depressingly slowly, and yet her arm jarred with ever fall of the horses foot.
Finally when she didn't think she could hold on any longer, pin pricks of light shone through the black before them, getting bigger at an alarming rate, like fireballs shot out of a cannon. Snow was kicked up from fast flying horses that came to an abrupt stop mere feet from them. They turned around, revealing a low lying, covered sled of some sort.
As the darkness shrouded over her mind, she felt herself being lowered into familiar arms, heard a sad exhalation of 'Oh, Clarke,' and carried the short distance to the new conveyance. Lexa laid her down flat and tapped the top of the enclosure. They took off again, but this time the ride was much smoother, and she gratefully lost consciousness with the caress of her lover across her brow.
I really am sadistic, aren't I?
