This Black Blood is Without End
Chapter 21 – The Truths We Tell
"Just go and tell him," Raven said, her voice equal parts tired and annoyed.
"Why do I have to do it?"
"Because I'm busy and you've known him longer."
Finn sighed, scrubbing a hand through his newly shortened hair. Despite how busy the last day and a half had been improving their communications set-up with the Ark, Raven had insisted on taking a break earlier to cut his hair. Her nimble fingers had run along his scalp in a soothing rhythm as she carefully trimmed away his unruly locks, the sensation feeling intensely intimate, reminding him of all the previous times she had done this for him on the Ark. Once she had finished, she had come to stand in front of him where he sat on a makeshift wooden stool, a small, satisfied smile on her face as she regarded his improved appearance. The silence had stretched for several awkward seconds, her smile turning almost sad as they looked at one another. Finn had needed to swallow down the lump in his throat and had wondered why everything felt so strange between them now. Finally she had leaned in and kissed him gently on the corner of his mouth, ruffling his hair as she complimented herself on a job well down, her usual, confident smirk returned to her lips as though the sadness had never been there.
"I've barely known him a few days… And besides, I don't think he likes me very much," Finn replied, his hand falling back to his side as he shrugged. Raven raised an eyebrow, a note of growing impatience on her face and in her voice.
"Finn, just go get him, okay? I rigged up the video feed over an hour ago, but that pompous asshole won't let any of us talk to our people on the Ark until he has spoken to his son. I'm tired of making up excuses for him… Just tell him either he comes and talks to his father, or I'll start telling everyone who comes in here that the reason they can't talk to their families yet is because Wells is being a stubborn idiot!"
Finn winced, knowing just how poorly the rest of the camp would take that news. Attitudes towards the Chancellor's son had changed greatly since their first day on the ground, but with people as stressed, tired, and hungry as they were, it didn't take much to start up old grievances. Everyone was on edge. Finn had already broken up one fight over food portions earlier that day. Hunting parties hadn't left the camp since before the attack, and what little food they had gathered was already nearly gone, which meant everyone was currently both extremely hungry and anxious. Being able to take a break from the harsh realities of their life on the ground to see and talk to their loved ones back on the Ark was exactly the distraction that everyone needed right now.
At least with the new weapons the others had brought back from the ancient supply depot earlier that day, hunting parties could probably be sent out again. Though he worried over the fact that Lexa, Jones and Roma had yet to arrive, the rifles the others had returned with meant the whole camp was more capable of defending itself. Finn didn't have any desire to hold one of the dangerous weapons himself, however, he had seen the way the others reacted to having them in the camp. If he was being totally honest, the rifles made him more than a bit nervous… Did they really need a more effective way of killing each other? Hadn't humanity already learned its lesson when they destroyed their own planet with pointless wars? If Lincoln's people ever did come to meet them, they would be confronted with a fortified camp that was growing ever more warlike with each passing day. The thought worried him.
"Alright, fine… You're right. I'll get him in here," he agreed. "How much time do you need to set up the link?"
"It should only take a minute. I'll give Station Control a call now and tell them to let the Chancellor know. The sooner those two get their family drama out of the way, the better… Then I can set up a rotation schedule for the video calls and finally get some other work done without someone coming in here every goddamn minute and asking why they can't use the radio yet."
Raven turned back to the makeshift desk and its jumble of computer equipment, exposed wires, battery packs and other scavenged electrical junk. There were deep, purple circles under her eyes and her hands and face were smeared with dirt and oil, but she was just as beautiful as she had ever been.
"You got it," Finn said as he turned to leave, then paused. "And Raven," he said, waiting until she looked up at him before continuing, "Just so you know, you're doing a great job. Everybody here, well, what you're doing for them is important and … I'm just really glad you're here."
Raven grinned at him, waving her hand at the door.
"Go on, pretty boy… Take your compliments and get out of here before you make me blush."
"Oh, you know you love it!" he yelled over his shoulder as he went down the ramp, a smile on his face.
Everything is fine, he though. We're going to be just fine.
Finn ignored the seed of doubt that still lingered in his stomach as he left the dropship and his girlfriend behind.
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"You're sure this is the right way?"
Clarke's softly spoken question reached Lexa's ears from behind, her voice low and scratchy from thirst and exhaustion. She paused and turned around to look at her, brows knitting together in concern at what she saw. The other woman's face was paler than it had been before, and a fine sheen of sweat covered her exposed skin. Even her thick, protective Azgeda leathers looked damp with sweat. Lexa too was sweaty and tired, all the fighting and running through a forest that had grown hot and humid after the passing of the storm having worn her out as well. Her stomach was so empty that it had ceased its rumbling and become merely a dull ache. Even more alarming than her own fatigue, however, was the fact that the other woman's entire body seemed to be trembling with exhaustion. Her canteen was now empty and so was Clarke's waterskin, and she worried suddenly that she had been pushing too hard of a pace.
"Are you alright?" she asked, ignoring her question and taking a step closer.
"I'll be fine," Clarke protested, and Lexa wanted to smile at the stubborn confidence.
"You don't look fine," she disagreed, then pretended not to notice the scowl she got in return. "I think there is a stream not far from here. It feeds directly into the river. We'll stop there and rest."
"I don't need rest," Clarke insisted, "I need to find and help my friends."
Lexa turned away and began walking through the thick underbrush once again, still moving quickly but making a conscious effort to slow her pace a little.
"Let's go, it's not far," she said, and this time she did smile when she just barely heard Clarke's angry grumbling under her breath in response behind her. She did follow, however, and several minutes later the gurgle and splash of a fast moving stream reached their ears. The side of the slope they were traveling along was somewhat steep, and the two women carefully picked their way over tumbled boulders and logs until they had found a larger shelf of rock where the falling water formed a small pool before continuing down the hillside in another series of little waterfalls. The break in the tall pines created by the stream allowed for their first uninterrupted view of a narrow slice of the horizon, and the Mountain loomed there, closer than Lexa had yet seen it in this life.
"It's so close," Clarke said, a hint of surprise mixed with something that might be awe or fear in her voice.
"Yes," Lexa agreed, dropping her pack to the ground at the bank of the pool and reaching into it for her empty canteen. "They were herding us towards the river that this stream leads to. The river marks the boundary of the cursed lands around the Mountain. We're lucky we lost them before reaching it and being trapped along its banks."
Clarke's eyes left the stark silhouette of the Mountain as she turned her gaze down to meet Lexa's, her tired face now holding a thoughtful expression. Lexa could see her intelligent blue eyes swirling with thoughts and calculations, and for a moment she barely noticed the marks the Azgeda had carved into her skin.
"For someone not of their clan, you seem to know a great deal about Trikru's lands… and about the Mountain," she said, some of the earlier suspicion coloring her voice and turning the statement into a barely concealed accusation.
"My people and I are not from the Mountain, Clarke."
Lexa didn't hide the annoyance in her voice. She had thought that they had moved past this, though she certainly couldn't blame her for being suspicious. Skaikru, and even Lexa herself, were difficult to explain. She wasn't really sure how to begin, or even if she should. Lexa remembered her own confusion and disbelief when confronted with the reality of strange invaders on her lands who were claiming to have fallen down from the stars. How much should she tell her now? A deep part of Lexa wanted to tell Clarke everything – to lay her full story and burdens at the other woman's feet. What a relief it would be to let go of all the deceptions she was living under. Of course, that same part of her also wanted to stand up and pull Clarke into her arms and never let go, which was also quite obviously a very bad idea, and so Lexa struggled to ignore the crazy things her heart was telling her to do in favor of her always more pragmatic and logical mind.
At least I have found her at last, she reminded herself, the thought accompanied by such a feeling of sweet relief that Lexa almost felt dizzy. Whoever she is in this life, she is still Clarke. Even raised among the Ice Nation, she can't have changed that much from the woman I love… Right?
Clarke searched her expression carefully, no doubt trying to read if Lexa was speaking the truth. Finally she nodded and joined her at the bank, and the two of them filled their respective water skins in silence.
Lexa pushed away locks of dark, sweaty hair that had fallen into her face as she leaned over the water, noticing as she did just how much dirt and dried blood stained her hands. They were safe enough for the moment, she felt, hidden as they were in this difficult to reach, rocky alcove. She took off her jacket and boots, ignoring Clarke's eyes on her the entire time, then stepped down into the ice cold water and waded out a short ways into the small pool. If they were taking a few minutes to rest and recover, then she might as well try to scrub away some of the sweat and blood. Pulling loose the hair tie still fastened at the nape of her neck, Lexa bent at the waist and ducked her head into the freezing water several times, running her fingers through it and shivering as the cold water trickled down her neck and back beneath her black undershirt. Ringing her long hair dry as best she could, she spun it carefully into a loose knot and fastened it with the tie once again, then proceeded to quickly splash water over every part of herself that she could reach, scrubbing the dirt away as best she could with her hands. The whole procedure took only a minute or two, but it left Lexa feeling remarkably more awake and refreshed.
She turned back to the bank and was surprised to see that Clarke was poised to join her. She had removed her thick, gray leather and fur trimmed tunic and now wore only a darker gray, tightly wrapped undergarment that hugged her breasts and left much of the skin of her lower ribcage, stomach and back exposed. It wasn't her state of partial undress that made Lexa freeze and stare, however, but rather how her true physical condition was no longer hidden from sight.
By all the spirits, Clarke! What have they done to you?
She was thin; almost painfully so. Each exposed rib stood out from a concave stomach that was nothing but lean muscle lacking any hint of softness. Her hip bones actually jutted out from the top of her trousers, and Lexa could see how the fabric was scrunched together and fastened tightly with a belt around her waist in order to keep from falling down. She didn't quite look starved, but it was a very near thing. Earlier, with just her face and hands available for easy scrutiny, Lexa had remarked on how sharp and thin her face had appeared. However, the unfamiliar tracing of sharp-angled, geometric Azgeda scars had been distracting, and had helped to hide just how thin her changed face really was. Even her arms were slimmer and lacking some of the muscle Lexa expected. At best she looked as though she had been very malnourished for a significant length of time. With the weakened physical condition she was in, Lexa was now shocked she had managed to keep up with her during their earlier flight through the forest.
Clarke seemed to notice her intense scrutiny and her thin arms came together across her stomach in an unconscious gesture, as though to shield herself from Lexa's view. Ice blue eyes stared back at her with a challenging glare and her proud chin lifted. Pale skin already flushed from the day's growing heat and her own exertions seemed to turn just a tinge warmer under Lexa's gaze, and she forced herself to glance away as Clarke stepped down from the rocks at the bank, her bare feet easing carefully into the water.
Lexa waded past her and climbed back up to dry land, her mind racing as she listened to the gentle splashes of the other woman as she refreshed herself in the water behind her. She felt sick, her empty stomach knotted with a combination of anguish and worry. Trying to hide just how upset she was, as she knew the other women would not understand the reaction, Lexa angrily shoved her wet feet back into her boots and began to lace them up with sharp, fast motions, fingers trembling with the frustration she couldn't show.
Fully dressed and armored against the world once more, Lexa allowed herself another look at the other women where she waded in the water several feet away. She flinched at what she saw. Clarke's back was to her, her waist bent as she scrubbed her face clean in the water, her white skin a patchwork of fading bruises and thin scars in various stages of healing.
Lexa had seen the marks of lash and cane before. She knew what story the scars told, and she swallowed the gasp of outrage that wanted to claw its way up her throat at the sight.
Her thoughts immediately went back to the single night they had spent together. Under the soft glow of candlelight and with the lightest touches of fingers and lips, she had diligently worked to memorize every bit of Clarke's body, from the golden tip of her head, all the way down to the smallest toes of her bare feet. The Clarke she had known had been hardened by her time spent alone in the wilderness, yes, but also deliciously soft in all the right places. Each callous and scar that marred her skin had been the mark of some struggle confronted and defeated on behalf of the people she fought to protect.
As she turned away and slid into the cooler shadows of the nearby trees, Lexa let her stoic expression falter, leaning her hand against the closest tree and taking several long, soothing breaths. Her chest felt tight, all her muscles rigidly clenched against the emotions assaulting her. She looked up at the green sunlight filtering through the branches high overhead, eyes blinking back the sharp stab of tears that threatened.
You're the Commander, Lexa. You can't afford to let your feelings get in the way now. You need to remember who and where you are… She is not the same Clarke you know.
The admonishing thought was her own, but it held the echo of her Fleimkepa's voice. Though she knew he had betrayed and killed her, from time to time she still found herself almost reflexively yearning for his council and advice. Especially now, when she felt as though she was cut adrift in a strange, alternate world she didn't understand and still couldn't explain.
There among the trees of her birth clan, with the woman she still loved with every aching piece of her wounded heart only feet away, and for the first time since finding Aden there with her on the Dropship, Lexa Black felt well and truly alone.
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"Octavia…"
"Yes, I know. Just a few minutes longer."
Silence, but for the drip, drip of water through some crack in the cave ceiling overhead. Octavia ignored the other woman, her hands bringing the cooling cloth back to her brother's sweaty forehead. The soft sounds of footsteps approached her from the direction of the cave entrance, and she shrugged off the hand that came to rest on her shoulder with and angry motion.
"Octavia, we can't… We ha… ah…te …We have… to…"
She heard the soft, frustrated snarl the other woman gave as the stutter brought her attempt to speak to a halting stop. Not long after Clarke and Martek had left, several failed attempts at conversation with her quiet companion had quickly revealed to Octavia why the other women rarely spoke more than a few words. Reluctantly, and in halting, short sentences, Riva had explained that her speech impediment grew worse when she was tired or stressed, and certainly she was feeling both of those in great amounts at the moment. Her twin brother was somewhere out there, after all. As worried about her own brother as she was, Octavia could easily imagine what kinds of thoughts were going through Riva's mind right now.
Riva took another deep, calming breath, then continued speaking.
"We can't stay here any longer. It's not… not safe."
"I know, but…" Octavia trailed off, frustration filling her as she turned to look up at the other woman. "Damnit, you know what leaving means! It means we're giving up, and I'm not ready to do that. I can't give up on him, do you understand?"
Riva shook her head, her expression seeming sad in the dim light of the cave.
"There's no choice. We're out of time… If…" she paused again, swallowing and taking another deep breath before continuing, her voice measured and slow as she sought to speak her mind and control her stutter. "If they find us here, they will kill us all. Without the antidote, your brother is no better off here than he is back at the camp."
Octavia scowled, knowing that she was right but hating to admit it even to herself. Clarke had promised her! She had promised to return with the medicine, and yet here they were, waiting uselessly for hours while Bellamy grew even sicker before their very eyes.
At least if we head for camp we'll be actually doing something, instead of just waiting here for someone else to save us.
She was a creature of action, and suddenly Octavia ached to be on the move. She stood, testing her full wait on her ankle and pleased with how little it hurt. Clarke had wrapped it in tight cloth for support the night before and had ordered her to drink some willow bark tea for the pain, and one or both of the treatments seemed to be helping.
"You're right," she said, looking down at her brother. Bellamy slipped between bouts of semi-lucidness and complete insensibility. At the moment, he appeared to be entirely unaware of his surroundings, his eyes clenched tightly shut as his muscles twitched and spasmed randomly from the effects of the poison.
"Bellamy's not going to get any better by us just sitting here on our asses… Let's just hope Clarke and your brother are already waiting at the camp when we get there."
Together they lifted him onto the drag litter they had made that morning by lashing many branches together. It had been hastily done, but once his weight was fully on it they were relieved to see that it appeared to be sturdy enough to hold. It was going to be a tough journey back to camp, with the two of them dragging his limp body through rough terrain and dense forest. As they each grabbed hold of the litter and began the difficult traverse down the rocky ravine that led away from the cave, Octavia looked over at the other woman.
"Thank you, by the way," she said, stopping for just a moment. "I know I should have said that earlier. You and your brother… You took a big risk to help me, to help him." She indicated her brother on the litter between them with a tilt of her head. "No one's ever really stuck their neck out for me like that before."
It was true. Nobody had ever risked anything for her before. No one besides Bellamy.
Riva looked uncomfortable under the mask of white war paint, only meeting Octavia's earnest gaze for a moment before looking away.
"Martek wanted to help," she muttered, not sounding particularly pleased about that fact.
"I'm sure your brother is alright," Octavia offered, hoping that the words were true. "He's an excellent fighter… and Clarke might be annoyingly full of herself sometimes, but she's also very clever. Even if something happened, I'm sure they're both okay."
Octavia readjusted her grip on the litter and the two of them began pulling again, this time in silence. She wasn't sure if she had been trying to convince Riva or convince herself, but she desperately prayed that her words would be proven correct. If everything were truly fine, then the others should have long since returned with the antidote. Octavia didn't know if the knot in her stomach was more from worry about the fate of her two friends, or over the fact that they still didn't have the cure her brother needed to survive. Now their only hope was to somehow crawl their way back to the Skaibona camp through a forest thick with Reapers and Trikru scouts, either of whom would kill or take them captive without a moment's hesitation.
The figures of the two women disappeared into the trees, the wounded prince they dragged between them growing sicker with each passing hour.
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Aden felt the narrow logs and branches of his perch along the camp's wall shake and tremble as someone began to climb up to him. He heard her curse under her breath and felt the tremors as she missed a foothold and slipped, and the string of muttered bad-language made the boy smile. Ever since arriving in this new world, his grasp of the Enemy's language had immediately and noticeably improved, and he spoke it now with the comfort and familiarity of a native. Even so, he still found that some of the words and phrases the others used were unknown to him, and he certainly had never heard many of the more colorful curse words and insults that the young Sky People seemed so fond of.
He turned as the older girl final reached the narrow ledge he was standing on, the forest and hills beyond just visible over the sharpened wooden spikes that crowned the top of the barricade. Her dark red coat, though smudged with dirt and oil, still made him wince and sigh inwardly. The light jacket stood out among the browns and greens of the forest and almost seemed to shout its presence to the world. How did she ever expect to surprise and enemy with such an obnoxiously bright outfit?
"Holy crap, kid, you sure picked a difficult place to hang out," she huffed, settling herself uncomfortably onto the wooden beams beside him. "I'm Raven, by the way… I don't think we've been officially introduced yet."
The girl smiled at him, her brown eyes warm and somewhat mischievous. Aden felt the blush start up his pale throat and hurriedly looked away, reminding himself that he was a grown warrior now who had killed in battle… not a shy boy who would be embarrassed simply because a pretty, older girl was talking to him. He strove to emulate Lexa and the other warriors he had known by looking stern and stoic as his eyes continued to search the trees. The thought of Lexa reminded him of why he was up here on lookout in the first place, and just as quickly as it had come, his self-consciousness disappeared, replaced by more pressing worries.
"You're Aden, right? Lexa's little brother?" Raven continued, and Aden nodded, meeting her gaze again. She must have seen the worry in his eyes because she frowned with concern, her own eyes turning to scan the woods beyond.
"She's still out there, isn't she?"
"They should have returned by now," Aden said, breaking his silence. "I think something must have happened."
Raven looked thoughtful at this, and he was relieved that she didn't immediately dismiss his words. He knew he was young, but it frustrated him when others dismissed his ideas simply because he couldn't yet grow facial hair. It wasn't fair that although he had already fought and killed in battle, by the standards of the people of the Ark he was still not a man.
"Maybe," she agreed, meeting his eyes again. "But, from what little I've seen of your sister, the girl's tough." Raven shrugged, sounding impressed. "It's kinda hard to imagine a problem she couldn't handle… I heard about the fight here, the one just before I arrived. From the way the others talk, it sounds like she took out half of them all by herself. Is that all true?"
Aden shrugged, his pride in his Heda warring with the concern he felt for the person who was his big sister in this life. As a Natblida in training at the tower in Polis, he would never had questioned the abilities of the Commander. She carried the eternal flame, and even if Lexa's body were to perish, the Flame of the Commander would continue forever, immortal and undefeatable. Now, however, Aden's memories of life on the Ark continued to emerge, filling in more and more detail with each recollection. He remembered Lexa as a younger girl, play-fighting with him in the small living quarters they shared, both of them shrieking with laughter as the fighting dissolved into poking and tickling. He remembered her worried face looking down at him as she quickly moved the floor panel into place, hiding him from a surprise inspection, and the low sound of her voice as she calmly greeted the guard who entered just moments later. Perhaps the most visceral memory was of several years earlier, when he was young enough that they had still shared a bed, their backs pressed together in sleep and the rhythm of their breaths falling in synch.
These new memories had been slowly and subtly changing how he viewed Lexa in his mind, taking her from a distant, almost inhuman figure he admired and respected, to someone who was clearly human, with all the wonderful imperfections that being human implied. She wasn't just a sacred symbol anymore. She was still his Heda, yes, but she was also his sister, and as each day had passed in this new world, the love he felt for her had finally surpassed the respect he also felt.
"She's not… Even she isn't invincible," Aden finally said, and making the admission felt as though he were tearing away some of the last of his childhood innocence. "There are some things that even Lexa can't defeat on her own. I should have stayed with her. We're supposed to be facing things together."
"I'm sorry, kid," Raven said. "I hope your sister is okay. Anya worries about her too. That's part of the reason she helped me get down here. She really cares about you two… Maybe when Wells is done talking to the Chancellor, we can figure out a way for you to talk to her. It might be difficult, with you being an unregistered person and all, but I've been working on a few ideas. For Lexa too, when she gets back. I know Anya is anxious to talk to both of you."
He remembered Anya just enough to feel a bit excited at the prospect of talking to her, though it also made him a bit nervous. What if she could tell that he wasn't really Aden Black, but an imposter from another world? He swallowed anxiously at the thought. Lexa wouldn't be happy if he gave away their strange origins.
"Maybe… when Lexa gets back. Thanks, Raven," he agreed, and he smiled at her, looking his age for the first time during their conversation.
"Great!" she exclaimed, "Now, if we could just get Wells to hurry up and get his idiot dad to agree, then…"
Raven stopped talking when Aden suddenly grabbed her arm in a tight fist, shushing her with a glare before staring intently back out at the quiet forest.
"What…?"
"Quiet!" he hissed, interrupting her question. "Someone is coming."
Aden turned and waved down to one of the sentries on duty, whistling sharply to get her attention. In a matter of moments, the camp went silent with alarm as people scurried to grab weapons and check that the gate was secure.
"I don't see anything," Raven whispered, and Aden glared at her again. He didn't see anything either, but he knew what the snapping of branches under booted feet sounded like, and the sounds steadily grew closer and louder, until even Raven and the others now climbing the walls seemed to hear it. Through the underbrush a large, dark form came crashing into the open area that had been cleared just in front of the camp's wall. The figure slipped in the mud and slammed hard to the ground, quickly scrabbling back up to his feet. He looked up, his expression a strange mixture of panic and relief as he saw the faces of the others staring down at him, mud coating him from head to foot and something dark dripping from the axe he clenched tightly in one fist.
"Oh thank god," Jones exclaimed, sinking to his knees in exhaustion before the gate, his breath still heaving in his chest.
"Hey, it's Jones! They're back!" came a shout from one of the sentries, and people called for the gate to be opened as a collective sigh of relief went through the gathered Sky People.
Aden felt the pit of worry in his stomach grow even greater as the seconds passed and no more figures emerged from the forest. Where was Lexa and Roma?
"But where are the others?" Raven asked, her question echoing his own thoughts out loud. Below them, Jones was welcomed back into the camp and was quickly surrounded by people, Miller giving him an arm to lean on and the girl Harper pressing a canteen to his lips, the sound of anxious voices filling the camp as everyone tried to ask him the same questions all at once.
Silently, Aden grabbed his spear and leapt down from his perch. The Commander hadn't returned with Jones, and he was damned if he wasn't going to find out why.
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The hush of the nearby waterfalls filled Clarke's ears, drowning out the soft drone of insects and the chirping songs of the small, drab woodland birds that flitted back and forth in the branches overhead. Her eyes snapped fully open at the sound of someone approaching. She realized with some alarm that she had very nearly fallen asleep, and she had no real idea how long she had been sitting there beside the water. After cooling her overheated body in the pond and re-donning her tunic and boots, Clarke had found a soft, moss covered log and taken a seat on the ground next to it, leaning her tired frame against it and willing her exhausted muscles to recover. She could feel her battered body rebelling against the lack of sleep, the running, fighting, and everything else that had occurred over the past two days. Still, she was annoyed with herself for letting her guard down, even for a few minutes.
Clarke looked up, finding that Lexa had re-emerged from the trees beyond and was staring down at her, her face unreadable. Her dark hair looked nearly dry, and she realized that they must have been resting here for at least half an hour. They needed to get moving. As close as they were to the Mountain, staying in one place for long was a bad idea.
"Are you able to continue?" the other woman asked, and Clarke wanted to bristle at the question. Asked by someone else, and in a particular way, and the question could have been interpreted as an insult. Lexa, however, spoke so pragmatically and devoid of emotion that Clarke immediately sensed that there was no judgment or insult implied.
"I'm ready," she said, nodding and climbing to her feet. The water and short rest had done her good, and she was relieved to find that her legs were no longer trembling as they had been earlier.
"Here, eat these," Lexa said, and she found that the other woman was holding out a square of cloth filled with dark, purple berries. She recognize the fruit – they grew in large numbers on prickly, thorn filled branches, making it a sometimes painful effort to gather – though it typically didn't produce until later in the summer in the lands to the north. Lexa must have found them growing in the patches of sun along the stream while Clarke was resting.
"Thanks," she said after a moment, reaching to scoop up a modest handful. It felt a bit weird, she supposed, to be accepting food from the strange warrior. But then again, everything about them helping each other today was unusual, and her empty stomach wouldn't let her pass up the opportunity to eat something.
"No, take all of them," Lexa insisted, "I ate my share already. You need to eat."
Clarke gave her a puzzled look, but accepted the berries without comment. She knew the other woman had noticed how thin she was earlier. The look in her eyes as she watched Clarke in the water had left little doubt as to her thoughts, and it had made her feel incredibly exposed. Not even her mother had seen her body so clearly since she was freed from her cell. The journey from the Ice Queen's fortress dungeon into Trikru lands had been taxing, but at least she had been able to eat as much as she wished. That had helped, of course, but as a healer, Clarke new it would probably be weeks, if not months, before she started to truly look and feel like her old self again.
She attacked the berries quickly and without looking up, washing them down with a drink of water and thinking the entire time. Lexa was proving to be… What was the best word? Confusing? Unpredictable? Or perhaps fascinating was the term to describe her. After what happened in the clearing where they met, any other warrior would have simply killed her without a thought. But here she was, listening to her, talking to her, fighting with her… Giving her food? The pragmatic side of her couldn't help but question it, wondering what ulterior motives drove the warrior in black.
There was something else, however, something which gave Clarke pause and made her feel an emotion that seemed a lot like hope. There was this… connection, there, between them. She could feel it. It didn't make sense, and it wasn't logical, but she felt it nonetheless. Perhaps Lexa felt it too.
"The marks… The ones on your back," Lexa's voice interrupted her thoughts, the words sounding cautions. "Did Azgeda do that to you?"
Clarke continued eating the berries, not looking up. She should have known the other woman would notice the scars. The Ice Queen's guards had not been particularly kind, and she had often tested their very limited patience, especially in the beginning. Though she had quickly learned how to avoid an actual beating, they had still seen fit to remind all of their prisoners from time to time what the lash felt like. The guards seemed to think that the reminders were necessary to keep them in line, but Clarke suspected many of them just enjoyed doing it.
"It's a long story," she replied, not wanting to even try to explain her imprisonment. Lexa didn't press any further, but simply stood there, quietly frowning as Clarke ate.
"I've been wondering," she said once she had finished, handing the scrap of cloth back to Lexa. The other woman cocked an eyebrow at the statement, prompting her to continue.
"You and your clan, you are allies with Trikru?"
Lexa seemed to consider the question, her frown deepening.
"Lincoln is my friend and ally, yes," she replied, then paused, hesitating to say more. Clarke could sense she was being weighed and judged by those eyes as the warrior decided how much to trust her.
"It is my hope," she continued, "that very soon all of Trikru will consider us to be allies as well."
Clarke's quick mind pondered this new piece of information and she frowned. She sensed that the other woman was being intentionally vague, and it annoyed her.
"But you and your people are here, on their land?" she asked, not hiding her confusion.
"We… have an outpost, yes," Lexa agreed, again sounding as though she wasn't entirely sure she should be trusting Clarke with the information.
If anything, this only created more questions. If everything Lexa had said so far was true, then Clarke needed to know what effect the presence of Lexa's people might have on her own mission. Were they a new threat? Possible allies? Was Lexa like her, just trying to do what she needed to keep her people safe, or was she and her supposed camp actually foreign invaders bent on conquest? If so, then they might throw off the whole balance of power that existed between the known twelve clans. And if she did succeed in an alliance with Trikru, then what would that mean for Azgeda? In all of the plans she had considered during the journey south, the presence of a strange new clan with unknown motives had not been in the mix.
"Then how is that not already an invasion?" she replied, her voice starting low and then rising steadily as she continued. "You're on their land, taking their food and resources… No clan would stand for that kind of intrusion. Why try to negotiate at all, then? Your people carry cursed weapons as though it were nothing! Of all the clans, Trikru knows and fears the curse of the Mountain more than any others. What makes you think they would even agree to be your allies, and what's to stop you from simply taking what you want by force? What is it that you really want, Lexa?"
The questions came rapidly, the accusations fired off one by one as Clarke took advancing steps towards her, her brow furrowed in determination. The aggressive steps she took into the other woman's personal space were a completely unconscious gesture. As she verbally cornered her with her questions, she did so physically as well, her eyes focused on hers as she stalked her almost predatorily. Lexa began to back up as she advanced, her eyes going slightly wider in surprise. The backs of her knees collided with a large, fallen log after just two or three small steps, effectively cutting off any further retreat. She seemed unaware of her response, her wide eyes seeming intensely green as they stared back into Clarke's, her mouth parted slightly in surprise.
Clarke finished speaking only to find that she was mere inches from Lexa, both of them staring at each other face to face. It was the closest they had ever been to each other, and Clarke startled herself by realizing just how young and beautiful she really was. Not much older than herself, surely. It was an inappropriate thought, but it was there in the back of her mind nonetheless. Lexa's eyes searched her face, making minute tracks back and forth, and the expression in them was almost… afraid?
"I want… peace," Lexa finally said, her voice low and earnest, and Clarke found herself swallowing nervously now at their proximity, though still unwilling to step back.
"I used to believe that war was the only answer. I was raised a warrior; raised to believe that fighting was the only way to protect my people. Until someone helped show me a different way."
Lexa trailed off and took a deep breath, and she saw the sculpted line of her jaw clench around some kind of intense emotion before continuing.
"I want the people I protect to live their lives free from the constant threat of war. I want children to grow up having never known of the horrors of the Mountain, or of the terror of Reapers in the night. I want to be able to live in a world where bloodshed doesn't always lead to still more bloodshed, and where the people I care about don't always die before ever really getting the chance to live."
A stillness between them, gazes holding as though locked together, the sounds of the stream and forest fading into nothingness around them. A smile twitched onto Lexa's lips, a mere shadow of the deeper emotion she could see dwelling there in the depths of her eyes. Clarke found herself glancing down at those lips and then back up, captivated by her words, by her conviction, and by the passion she sensed there within her. A passion and conviction which seemed so miraculously like her very own.
"I want peace, Clarke," she repeated, and Clarke felt her heart begin to race in her chest as Lexa leaned even closer into the narrow space between them.
"What do you want?"
Author's Note:
Vivre la sexual tension! Oh, and thank god for narratively convenient waterfall pools!
…. That is all.
-FlyUpInSKy