Chapter Eleven
Clarke leaned her body back against Lexa, seeking her warmth, her strength, her presence and truth be told her love. And as she drank in the sights, the smells and the sounds of this new experience, she couldn't help but reflect on the history between her and the woman who not only accepted her change in posture but welcomed it. Lexa wanted to hold Clarke to her and never let her go, she didn't care that Clarke's hair was all over the place and made it difficult for her to see. She didn't care that Clarke smelled so good it drove her to distraction.
It was so unlikely, that from how the two of them met, that they should be here now, like this. There had been some conflict, skirmishes really, between Heda's peoples and Clarke's, and Heda had sent a small force of 300 warriors to wipe out Skaikru. In her defense, Clarke had managed to burn them all alive and Heda had sent for her, directly, to sort of face off, I suppose. Their interaction was difficult, there were language and cultural barriers, a lack of trust but as they worked their way through issues, over time, there was definitely a growing understanding and respect.
At one point they were definitely allies, then friends and then something a little more, they had kissed and whilst Clarke couldn't deny their obvious, mutual attraction she was simply not ready for anything more. Lexa was disappointed but respected Clarke's wishes and aside from a few longing glances from time to time she had never broached the subject again. Clarke never did forget and prior to their move on Mount Weather she had been finding it more and more difficult to deny her feelings for Lexa and found fewer reasons to try.
Lexa was definitely a catch. Absolutely beautiful, physically capable, fit, strong and ripped to boot. Clarke could be content to watch Lexa walk around the Throne room interacting with people all day, the woman was practically a god, turning her gaze over people, alternately lifting them up or incinerating them, as the case may be. And the way she looked at Clarke was something else, she made Clarke feel special, wanted, in a visceral and compelling way.
She was intelligent, practical, powerful, experienced, dedicated and ruthless. And therein lay the problem. Whether or not Clarke could forgive Lexa, she had to accept what she had done. And when Lexa had asked her 'what would you have done?' Clarke knew that she would never have done that. And maybe that's the problem. Clarke was not politically astute, she didn't even try to pretend.
All of the things that made Clarke a perfectly honourable person and valued friend turned out to be liabilities in the political arena. She was honest, she stuck to her word, she believed what other people said, she wore her heart on her sleeve, she didn't ask for more than she needed, she could not read the subtext. It was a problem. So how could she blame Lexa who had been trained and schooled in this from a small child? Clearly Lexa was a master and Clarke was a novice. And whose fault was that?
Even if Clarke could get past all of these reasons could she ever get past the hurt? The truth that she wanted to was suddenly clear and perhaps that was enough? Clarke wanted it to be enough. She wanted to move beyond the hurt, she wanted to forgive and she wanted to let Lexa love her. Loving Lexa was not a problem, she had loved her probably from somewhere around the time of that first kiss and that love turned to hate precisely because it was love.
If Clarke had only had an alliance with Lexa she would have been disappointed with her decision at Mount Weather. But the fact that she was crushed, absolutely, undeniably, soul smashingly, wanted to die crushed, signalled something more. And even if she couldn't forgive her, couldn't get past the hurt, even though she wanted to, could she ever trust Lexa? And if she couldn't trust her politically, could she trust her personally? Could she trust Lexa's pledge of fealty?
Even if she couldn't Clarke was ready to move on, from where she was, emotionally. She simply couldn't live in the darkness any longer, she couldn't live with the hate. When Lexa had been so determined to meet that challenge herself, the combat for the right to be Heda, Clarke was sure she would lose. Lose the battle, lose her life and Clarke would lose her.
That's when she knew she was ready to move out of the darkness. She could not control Lexa, hell nobody could, and least of all because she was Heda! It was because Heda was Lexa that she was so damn powerful and successful - look at what she had achieved! The twelve tribes, the coalition, the thirteenth tribe, the Ice Queen, Peace! The only thing Clarke had said she had wanted all along and here it was.
No, she could not control her, she could not be sure she could forgive her, she couldn't be sure of anything other than she wanted Lexa and Lexa clearly wanted her. There were not enough Finns, Niylahs and Bellamies in the world to hold a candle to Lexa. She had now twice told Lexa she wasn't ready but reflecting on the intensity of her feelings for Lexa and how death had a habit of snatching people away before anyone was ready to go or anyone else was ready to let them, she knew waiting and losing would be worse than not.