first of all, thank you to those who have, um, caffeinated me - much appreciated and i love you, know this. to those who didn't, no pressure, i still love you and i'm mainly writing because i want to, after all. (maybe a little bit pressure) ((jk)) (((but am i?)))

now, read, ponder, and enjoy!

Never had Lexa ever been a religious person, despite her parents' strong belief in it, her brother's affinity for it, and her sister's bare grasp on it. There were two shelves in the library at the palace, dedicated to religious texts that encompass all the beliefs out there – be it Catholicism, Christianity, Islamism, Buddhism, or Hinduism; you name it, it was probably there.

It was a collection spanning two centuries, since her ancestors came upon this island and constructed Polis out of nothing. A thriving country – small, but thriving. The texts were brought about emissaries and missionaries from all over the world in the forms of gifts or abandoned in various corners of the palace. Now, Lexa didn't know what her ancestors did with the texts, but her parents had always wanted their children to learn, above all else, regardless of their own beliefs.

And Lexa did. Besides the encyclopedias on space and autobiographies of world leaders, Lexa had devoured almost all the books that were sitting on the two shelves. She studied it all and learned about the philosophies and teachings and myths. But while she accepted the teachings and saw a point in them, she dismissed the myths as just that – pieces of fictions made to put fear in the public and have them kneel to non-existent beings.

She had seen too much and heard too much to ever believe that there was ever an all-loving and all-knowing higher power up there, some sort of god who had the authority to decide if you suffer or live in bliss in the afterlife. She took fate by its neck and crushed it, deciding that her own destiny was her own to decide.

Still, in spite of her refusal to believe, she had always thought that if there ever really was a higher power, then there was only one thing they did right amongst their waves of destruction and mistakes, and it was woman. Women, beautiful and soft and so incredibly intelligent that it was kind of no wonder that Lexa was born to love them. The princess came out of her mother's womb and never looked a man's way, only ever in awe of women and women only.

And yet, this might be the first time she found herself with the urge to kiss a man.

"I could kiss you," Lexa proudly announced, thinking it should be okay for her to defy all logic this one time.

Wells squinted and chuckled. If it wasn't for his dark complexion, his blush would have been obvious. "Right, I'm flattered, Your Highness, but I don't think my girlfriend would appreciate that."

"Your girlfriend wouldn't appreciate that," Clarke countered, narrowing her eyes at the princess. "Focus on your recovery and only kiss me, you got that?" she ordered sternly, mock glaring at Lexa.

Lexa rolled her eyes but smiled at Wells. "But seriously, if you ever want it, I'm prepared to lay a big one on you." Because she really would. Because she was tired of being in the hospital of one whole week with nothing to busy herself with and having everyone tend to her like she was an invalid. Because Wells, this generous and wonderful and smart doctor who had mended her heart, had just declared her clear for discharge. "I could kiss you," she repeated, uncaring of the smack her girlfriend gave her on the arm.

Anya scoffed and pushed away from the wall, uncrossing her arms to extend one towards the cardiothoracic surgeon with a genuinely grateful smile, clearly disarming Wells once again. If Lexa were to guess, she would guess that her parents were on their way to bestowing the man a title as well. She would convince them if they didn't.

"Thank you for saving my sister's life, as terrible a patient as she is," Anya said.

"Um –" He swallowed audibly and glanced at the hand extended towards him before gingerly taking it and shaking "– just doing my job, Your Highness."

"How come you're never so polite with me?" Lexa asked.

"Because you're a terrible patient, Your Highness," he directed at her with a teasing smile. "And my father tried to set us up and we ended up getting really tipsy about it," he added.

If it was even possible, Clarke's eyes only went on to narrow more, directing her jealous gaze at both Wells and Lexa, perhaps unsure as to whether she had the right to be jealous. And truthfully, Lexa kind of liked it. She probably shouldn't condone this behavior, but she liked it either way. It made her feel wanted and loved.

Lexa tilted her head as she mindlessly reached out to take hold of Clarke's hand, giving it a simultaneously teasing and reassuring squeeze. "Not getting to know you better after that venture will always be one of my regrets," she announced, quite sincerely.

His smile widened and he tapped on the chart he had been holding onto. "Well, Your Highness, I'll be making more house visits in the foreseeable future. The heart is not an organ to be trifled with, as my mentor likes to tell me. So maybe we'll get to know each other better then." She nodded, quite sincerely as well, because she was looking forward to building a real friendship with the man. "Now, if one of you will be so kind as to fill up the discharge papers at the reception, then we'll be good to go. Don't forget to pick up the medicine at the pharmacy," he addressed her family.

"I'll do it," Lincoln quickly offered, heading out the door. Lexa had no doubts that he was going to look for Octavia in the process.

"From the bottom of my heart, Your Highness –" Wells addressed Lexa again "– I never want to see you in this hospital ever again."

"You and us all," Clarke quipped, squeezing Lexa's hand to warn her away from making anymore smart remarks.

"Right on," Anya agreed with the blonde, which would be the first, but baby steps.

Wells hummed and proceeded to hand Clarke the chart instead of placing it at the end of the bedframe. "Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, I'll see you soon." He turned to Clarke. "I'll see you next week then?"

"Yes," Clarke reassured distractedly as she flipped through the chart one-handed.

As soon as the doctor left, Lexa's mother started coddling her again, asking her all the inane questions that a concerned mother would have when her daughter was hospitalized with a heart condition. Her sister entered a quiet discussion with their father, throwing occasional wary glances at Clarke and Lexa. Meanwhile, Clarke was quiet as she read through the chart, and when she seemed satisfied with it, she lowered it, unaware of Anya glowering at her, and smiled at Lexa.

Okay, well, Lexa would have to deal with Anya later. And she didn't want to jinx it, even if she didn't believe in all that stuff, but she really believed that things were finally turning around for her.

"This is nuts." It was said in the midst of handmaidens running around and footmen tending to the arrival of the royal family that no one could really hear it, apart from Lexa. "Right? This is nuts, right?" Clarke continued, as if looking for validation from Lexa.

Except she wasn't even really looking at Lexa. She wasn't even trying to be subtle as her eyes roved all over the place and her jaw dropped, taking in the statues and portraits and the 200-year-old bricks and mortar that made up Lexa's home for her entire young life. One of her hands held tightly on to Lexa's hand and the other was tightly clasped onto Lexa's shoulder.

Sometimes, Lexa forgot that it wasn't normal for people to have palaces as a home – she was just privileged. Sometimes, Lexa forgot that the Polis palace was often a tourist spot, an intimidating building meant to incite respect and even fear if the occasion called for it. Sometimes, Lexa forgot that people had only ever seen the palace from the outside and never knew what went on inside.

As a form comfort, though maybe it wasn't much of one, she only laced their fingers together and refused to let go. She glanced up to catch her great-grandmother's portrait hanging over Clarke's shoulder and gave it a quick mental talkdown to not intimidate her girlfriend a breakdown. She would very much like to keep Clarke with her, thank you very much.

"This is my house," she declared, narrowing her eyes warningly at her siblings who were looking at Clarke with a mixture of amusement and mockery. "I grew up here for my whole twenty-five years of life. Well, except for the five where I went away for a war. You might have heard about that."

Clarke opened her mouth but was cut off by Anya. "Good god, little sister, you're insufferable," her sister complained, looking away from the two of them so they could continue inwards.

"Thank you," the doctor said a little too quickly and a little too loudly, garnering looks from Lexa's entire family and then some. Clarke immediately looked down and twisted her lips in a grimace; Lexa could hardly keep herself from laughing. "Sorry," Clarke muttered.

The king hummed as a footman opened the door that would lead to the center drawing room for them. "Dr. Griffin, I think you'll fit right in with our family, simply based on the irresistible frustration at our dear Lexa." At that, Clarke blushed further. All of them followed him into the drawing room, but before they could sit down, he continued, "Actually, Anya, Lincoln, why don't you two bring the nice doctor for a tour around the palace? Your mother and I will help your sister settle down in her room."

Immediately, the drawing room echoed with outcries of protest and perplexity and utter refusal, most vocally from Lexa and Anya. Even some of the handmaidens had jumped and scurried away – not that she could blame them, given that they were not prone to using their loud voices, especially Lexa.

"We would like to spend some quiet time with our daughter who nearly died –" Storme emphasized, widening her eyes at said daughter, which was kind of intimidating if Lexa was to be honest "– without you buffoons standing in the way."

Lexa would love to protest. Firstly, she wasn't exactly blind to Anya's distaste towards her girlfriend, which she really couldn't blame her sister for, despite her own willingness to forgive Clarke. Secondly, Clarke, Anya, and Lincoln together would only spell disaster; Lexa could already see the debris left in their wake in her head. Thirdly, honestly, she'd just gotten Clarke back, so would people just stop splitting them up just because they could?

However, before she could voice out her opinions vehemently and stubbornly, her mother had already made her way behind Lexa's wheelchair and gently but authoritatively pushed Clarke in the direction of her two elder children.

"Now, be nice to Clarke. Clarke, I'll see you when the tour's done – maybe you can tell me your favorite part of it."

"Wait, I don't get a say –"

"You're in a wheelchair, Lexa. You don't get a say in anything," Storme quipped, already pushing Lexa out the door, joined by her husband.

Lexa gasped. Anya cackled. Lincoln shook his head and buried his head in a hand. Clarke looked like she simply couldn't believe that she was watching this whole thing unfold, this chaos of a family that was supposed to rule the country with candor and elegance. The remaining footmen and handmaidens only smiled and went about their business, having gotten used to this after years of working here.

As the door shut behind them, she could hear Clarke saying, "Is it weird that the queen's scarier than the king?"

"Not to us," Anya said.

The rest, she couldn't hear, because the door had closed. For the next few minutes, Lexa let herself be wheeled down the foyer to the automated ramp that her grandfather had installed near the end of his reign when one of their staff had fallen down the stairs and lost both legs. She smiled at a butler who hurried to operate the ramp for them.

"I know what you're doing, you know," Lexa said once the ramp jolted and went up along the stairs.

The worst – no, the best – thing was that her parents didn't even try to deny it. Her father only huffed with an amused smirk and her mother hummed in acknowledgement. "Yes, you've always been a smart one. Otherwise, you wouldn't have made Commander," Storme offered. "Plus, I assume that you're planning on keeping Clarke for a long time to come, so it would be best to get your sister and brother to like her as soon as possible."

"Lincoln already likes her."

"Anya hates her, though."

"I wouldn't say Anya hates her."

"She hates Clarke," Richmond said quickly, taking over for his wife to push his daughter in the direction of her chambers, nodding at handmaidens and footmen along the way. Lexa sighed, finding herself a little too tired to deny the truth that she knew so well. "It's okay. Give her time. She'll come around. She always does, especially when she sees how happy Clarke makes you."

They entered her bedroom. Her mother started fluffing up the pillows and drawing back the blankets. Her father looked down at her, a nostalgic expression across his face and a reminiscent smile tugging on his lips.

He tilted his head and looked her in the eye for a moment. It was a way of asking for permission. An acknowledgement that she was a grown woman who, sometimes – well, most of the time, in her case – wanted to do things herself. When she nodded, he made a satisfied noise and reached down, sliding his arms under her knees and shoulders and heaving her up.

"The last time you carried me like this –"

"I try not to think about it," he shot back, carefully depositing her in her bed and covering her up with the blankets.

The last time he'd carried her like that, they were both in Libya. She was shivering from oncoming sepsis in a ratty sleeping bag, her only companions her bodyguard, a rookie soldier, and the staff sergeant.

God, it all felt so long ago. Everything from her Libyan trip to her breakup with Clarke. It certainly had felt like eons since she blew up on her parents for listening to an inexperienced minister and indirectly ruining what was inarguably her best relationship. Her forevermore.

"You should rest," Storme prompted, climbing up the bed to sit next to Lexa.

She wrapped an arm around Lexa's shoulders and gently pulled her into her embrace, neatly placing her daughter's head in the nook of her neck and shoulder. The brunette couldn't help but sigh in satisfaction at the sensation of being all wrapped up in her mother's warmth. She couldn't remember the last time they were in a position like this, just a daughter and a mother together.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like a child, despite being twenty-five years of age. In the air, around her, it was teeming with love and affection and sincerity. Not just from her parents, but her siblings and the staff around the palace and, most importantly, Clarke. For the first time in a long time, there was an anticipation, where she could close her eyes and drift to sleep, and everything would be alright.

"I've rested long enough in the hospital," she stubbornly but tiredly said.

"You've been through a surgery to repair your heart, Lexa. If I had a say in it, you'll be stuck in bed for at least another year," Richmond retorted, rolling his eyes at his daughter's determination. He tugged a comfortable chair closer to the edge of the bed and propped his head in his hand. "Don't worry. We'll still be here when you wake up."

"Clarke's here," she slurred, already feeling the medicine she'd taken back at the hospital earlier taking effect.

"Yes, she is."

"She'll stay, right?"

Because deep down, despite the certainty of the ability to fall asleep without concerns, Lexa was still crippled with a single fear. Afraid that when she woke up in her own bed in a palace that she'd called home for the last twenty-five years, she would realize it was all a dream and Clarke had never come back to her at all.

Lexa had wanted a lot of things in her short life.

She wanted Roan to be always be truthfully and genuinely good to her sister and bring Anya the brightest of happiness that none of those in this family was capable of. She wanted her parents to stay healthy for as long as they could and continue to be benevolent and kind to the people in this small but proud country. She wanted Costia since the very first time she laid eyes on the woman in high school. She wanted to serve her country and be the best soldier one could strive to be.

But never in her life had she wanted anything more than she wanted Clarke. Her heart, weak or not, yearned for the woman like nothing else. She craved the doctor like a baby would crave their mother's breast milk. She could see it, in the back of her head, a rest of a life with Clarke and no one else, and she would have been happy.

"I'll make her," her father promised.

She hummed and snuggled closer to her mother's welcoming warmth. "I love you," she murmured.

Slowly and tenderly, Storme rubbed her palm up and down Lexa's arm, like she used to do back when she wanted to coddle Lexa to sleep as an actual child. She could have misheard it in the midst of falling into the abyss of slumber, but she was certain that her parents echoed the sentiment.

First thing she noticed was that her mother's warmth was not there. She was no longer ensconced in the safety of her mother's arms, a place that she knew would always provide refuge and shelter whenever she sought for it.

Second thing she noticed was that the sunlight was no longer beating down on her exposed skin. Behind her eyelids, there was no peripheral brightness that indicated that it was the day. As a soldier, she'd trained herself to have a body clock – a pretty accurate one at that – and her body clock was telling her that it was long past sundown.

Third thing she noticed was that…even though her mother was no longer wrapped around her, she still felt safe. Not even relatively safe, but absolutely and undoubtedly safe. Someone was in the bed next to her, and this someone was the very one person who made Lexa feel like she could face a thousand Thelonious Jahas and come back alive.

"I know you're awake."

Lexa smiled slightly, her eyes remaining closed. She cuddled closer to the figure next to her and let two earnest arms wrap around her own body, nuzzling into a tempting neck.

"You're just in time for dinner," Clarke whispered, feathering her fingers over Lexa's arms.

"You're staying for dinner?" Lexa whispered in askance, not willing to breach the peace that surrounded them, filled only with their mild breathing and nothing else – even the birds and winds had thought to leave them alone tonight.

Clarke craned her neck down a little to place a lasting kiss on top of Lexa's head. Even when they were not looking at each other, Lexa could tell that there was a simultaneously confident and hesitant smile on her face – confident in her feelings for Lexa but hesitant as to how far she should go in their renewed relationship.

"I'll stick around this whole week if that's what you want," Clarke offered, still whispering, but softer this time, as if she wasn't sure if she wanted Lexa to pick up on it.

Immediately, with no regard to her close-to-numb left leg and her sore chest, the brunette pushed away from the blonde, smiling slightly at the slight noise that Clarke released at the loss of contact. But as soon as she flipped herself around to be on her stomach and facing her girlfriend, Lexa brought herself closer to Clarke again, letting the woman drape an arm over her hip.

There were things that Lexa wanted to say – corny and cheesy things that she had never thought she would think, let alone speak of. But here she was, on her stomach with a heart condition that wasn't going to leave her, huddled in the comfort of her own bed; and here Clarke was, in her bed, looking just as comfy as Lexa felt, seeming like she belonged there. She couldn't recall how long she'd wanted to bring Clarke over since the moment they reunited at the park.

"You're in my bed," she spoke the obvious, finding herself grinning at the sight before her.

Clarke hummed and draped her free arm over her forehead, sinking into one of Lexa's mountains of pillows. "You princesses do get the best of them, even four-poster beds," she mockingly complained. "I can't believe you made yourself sleep in my bed for months when you have this."

"Oh yes, the things I do for the woman I love," Lexa taunted, rolling her eyes. Unable to help herself, she keeled forward and caught Clarke's lips with her own, letting herself kiss this woman after hours of being apart. "I do want, by the way," she murmured after they parted, their lips only a breath apart.

"Huh?"

"You to stay – I want that. I want that very much," she confessed.

Mirroring Lexa's expression, the blonde's smile widened into a wide grin, noticeable even in the darkness of her room, illuminated only by the weak moonlight. "Okay." She then narrowed her eyes. "Um, is there any security clearance thingy that I have to do? I don't wanna accidentally set off an alarm or something."

"Lincoln will figure that out."

"Aren't you supposed the security person, given that you were a soldier?"

"I retired."

Clarke's eyes returned to their normal sizes. "Yes, you did," she whispered in a satisfied manner. "It's still so weird, calling your siblings by their names."

Lexa hummed in acknowledgement, still enjoying this rare moment of peace and bliss that she got to share with Clarke. Sure, any moment now, there would be a handmaiden – or God forbid, her mother – knocking on the door, alerting to her family waiting for them to make their way downstairs for dinner. However, Lexa was sick and she just came out of the hospital; she deserved this.

It took her a moment to realize what Clarke had just said. "Wait a minute," she started, staring wide-eyed at her girlfriend.

"I think your sister doesn't hate me as much as she did now," Clarke replied, smiling mischievously. "Must be because I helped her push your brother into the lake in the West Garden just now."

The princess blinked rapidly at Clarke, jaw dropped. She couldn't speak or even react properly except gape at her girlfriend. Part of her was inclined towards thinking that Clarke was joking, but there was something about the look on the woman's face that told Lexa that she was serious.

She stammered for a moment, trying to find the words. In her head, she was picturing it – her straight-faced sister and her awkward girlfriend bullying her brother so much that they just pushed him into a lake. It was a hilarious picture, and she would have laughed, but right now, she was just absorbing the information, trying to understand how Clarke had gone from being incredibly uncomfortable this morning to pushing her brother in the lake in the evening.

"Did you know Octavia's dating your brother?" Clarke revealed with a smirk.

This time, Lexa gasped. She was certain her heart condition would have relapsed if it wasn't for the fact that Clarke was holding her so tightly that it was possible she could be warding away the illness by sheer will alone. She gasped, nonetheless.

don't worry - i'll be writing clarke's mishaps with anya and lincoln in the next chapter, because that's how i roll. i foresee another two or three chapters before i wrap everything up, but really, who knows?