Author's Note: I hope everyone has had a happy holiday season and an enjoyable holiday (or holidays) of your choice! Time for another chapter in our story.
I hope this chapter can add some happiness to your day, especially if things have been tough lately. Hang in there. You're loved and you deserve to live your own life. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise.
Cover Art for the story is from the LexaRecovery tumblr. Stay strong together.
I do not own the television show "The 100" or make any claims upon it or its characters. Similarly, I do not own Frozen, its characters or any Disney characters or property. All these characters are used under the concept of Fair Use, and I make no profit or income from using any of them.
Our Fight Is Not Over
by Jo K.
Chapter 6: Love's Life Is Anything But Still
I know that I'm damned if I never get out
And maybe I'm damned if I do
But with every little beat I got left in my heart
I'd rather be damned with you
-Meatloaf, "Bat out of Hell"
—O—
Harper lay back on the large towel they had spread over the soft moss, happy and content as she and Zoe Monroe held other peacefully. The splashing and burbling of the nearby waterfall as it cascaded into the pool beside their repose soothed their nerves as they let their bodies relax. Their clothes continued to dry where they hung from the drying rack Harper had made two weeks ago, but the afternoon sun kept them warm as they nestled against one another, nerve endings still tingling in Harper's belly and pelvis after she and Monroe had made love under the waterfall earlier.
Harper hummed happily as she relaxed, eyes closed as she once again enjoyed the relative isolation she and Monroe had chosen for their place to live.
After a few minutes, Harper leaned her head forward enough to place a kiss on Monroe's head, the smaller girl's clingy auburn hair still in the process of drying. "As much as we love these warm days, we do need to start on building something more substantial than a tent, baby," Harper said to her lover.
"Yeah," Monroe mumbled against Harper's right breast, the tickling sensation drawing a quiet laugh from the ash blonde. "I guess we can find some kind of house plans in the Ark," she said, but the tone in her voice was far from convincing.
"They've already started on some of the community houses on the other side of Arkadia," replied Harper, shifting her left leg slightly to the side to relieve some of the ache that had just begun in her left hip.
"Yeah, I know," Monroe said softly. "We had to treat Richmond yesterday after he laid one of his fingers open with a planer."
"Ugh," Harper grumbled. "You didn't pass out, did you?"
Monroe replied by digging her fingers into Harper's ribs on both sides of her torso, causing her lover to shriek and nearly toss the shorter, more petite redhead off of her entirely. "I don't get sick from seeing blood!" Monroe protested playfully. "You should know that..."
As her girlfriend grew quiet, though, Harper knew exactly where Zoe Monroe's train of thought was taking her. "Hey," Harper said, carefully but firmly grasping her partner's chin, holding her fingers in place until Monroe turned to look Harper directly in the eyes. "You have to let it go, Zoe," Harper said softly. "You've suffered your punishment for what you did." Harper stared into Monroe's green eyes until she felt confidant Zoe was listening to her. "You already died for your sins, Zoe, literally," Harper said, her voice a whisper. "And you're still here, you're still with me, and you're not ever going to do anything like that again."
"No," Monroe said, closing her eyes against the burning of tears forming. "I'm not."
"I know," Harper said tenderly, pulling Monroe almost completely on top of her as she held her lover tightly until Monroe's shivering stopped. The redhead's breathing, still with a soft rasp audible when they were this close, grew softer and steadier until she had dozed off, making Harper smile again.
"Hello," a voice called out unexpectedly, its accent unusual but no more so than its mere presence.
Instantly Harper was scrambling up, reaching for the pistol she carried when off-duty; it was currently resting beside them with their packs and empty water containers, waiting to be filled before they made their way back to their tent.
"Wait! I mean you no harm!" called out the voice, now clearly female.
Harper paused, while Monroe had turned her body enough to scan the nearby trees for the speaker. Naked or not, she was going to protect Harper, and she was more than happy to use her body as a shield for her partner.
Finally movement among the shadows of the woods drew their eyes to a girl walking out of the thicker part of the forest, approaching them. She appeared to be in her early to mid-teens, close to Harper's and Monroe's age; she had a simple recurve bow slung across her body, a quiver of arrows on her back and a knife on her belt, but her hands were empty and held up and out in front of her. Her clothing appeared to be a patchwork of fabric and leather, in the usual style of the grounders, with her arms bare save for what appeared to be a leather guard on the inside of her left arm.
"Please," the girl said, stopping about thirty feet away. "I truly mean you no harm."
"Well, you kind of scared the hell out of us," Harper said testily. Despite most of the left side of her body being completely exposed, she pointedly refused to cover or conceal her nudity, or that of Monroe lying atop her. They had come to terms with their bodies, they had no shame about their feelings for each other, and this girl was intruding on their private time in their private place. Plus, who knows how long she had been watching them already?
"How long were you watching us?" Harper snapped at the girl, now slowly approaching and close enough for them to make out details, such as the slight point of the girl's chin, the small but evident scar on her left cheek, and the curiosity in her green eyes.
Now the girl's face flushed brightly. "I... I turned away to give you and your houmon privacy when you were—" The girl visibly swallowed, her eyes darting away, then back again. "Earlier," she mumbled, waving her right hand dismissively in a gesture that surprised Harper, so similar to a gesture other teenagers would have used on the Ark.
"Why were you watching us?" Monroe asked, her voice particularly sharp at the way the girl was openly staring at Harper.
"I..." began the girl, before her voice trailed off as she tried to count the small but numerous scars visible at Harper's left hip, left leg, left arm, left clavicle, marring the young woman's otherwise smooth skin.
"Hey!" Monroe snapped, startling the grounder girl.
"I—I'm sorry!" the girl said rapidly. "I brought you gifts," she added quickly, unslinging a leather travel pack from over her head and shoulder. She started to walk toward Harper and Monroe, only to halt after two shaky steps when she saw Harper quietly slide the handle of a knife into Monroe's left hand.
"No, I truly mean you and your houmon no harm, Jusdonosir!" the girl said hurriedly. She held out her left arm, still holding the bulging leather bag in her left hand. "These items are for you."
Keeping her eyes carefully on both Monroe and Harper, the girl knelt, gently placing the bag on the mossy ground between them. As she released the strap, the girl bowed her head. "My nomon—my mother—was taken by the Maunon," the girl said quietly. "By the Mountain Men."
At the mention of that name, Monroe felt as much as heard Harper's sharp intake of breath.
"None of my people taken into Maun-de had ever returned," continued the girl. "Not until Heda and Wanheda freed them, and Wanheda claimed the lives of the Maunon as punishment for their crimes."
Harper's emotions were too troubled to form words, and suddenly her and Monroe's nakedness shifted from being proud and defiant to being exposed and vulnerable. She shivered once as she reached for the nearby towel, but her hand was trembling too much to properly grasp it. Zoe's small hand gently enclosed her own, and Harper closed her eyes and smiled despite her tears at the gesture of support from her girlfriend. Wordlessly Monroe tugged the large towel to them, and together she and Harper draped it over their chests and hips.
"Thanks," Harper weakly whispered, looking into Monroe's green eyes, getting a tender smile in return. Instead of replying verbally, Monroe softly pressed her lips against Harper's for a second, pulling away to look back at the Trikru girl, who had not moved from where she knelt.
The girl was looking at them, eyes wide and bright as she took in the gesture of support between Harper and Monroe. "I wish... I wish to thank you, Jusdonosir," the girl said, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "For keeping my mother alive long enough for her to return to us as Maun-de fell."
Before she could reply, Harper watched the girl shoot to her feet, turn and run back into the trees.
"What the hell was that about?"
Harper blinked a few times before her brain registered that Monroe was talking to her. "I... I don't know," Harper whispered in reply, just as confused as her girlfriend.
—O—
In an entirely different world, he watched with delight as the prisoners dug the pit. Despite the freezing temperatures, the shovels and mattocks had finally broken through the permafrost once the snow had been cleared.
He turned as his ears registered shouts and cries far behind him. He saw a contingent of guards thrusting blunt poles into one of the barred carts hauling more prisoners, but then his attention was drawn toward the stony-faced man walking toward him.
"Hello, Emerson," spoke the sorcerer, his voice subtly emphasizing the s in Carl Emerson's name with a faint hiss that made Emerson's skin crawl. "Is there a problem with the prisoners?"
"Not really," Emerson replied, stopping to stand beside the auburn-haired man, clean-shaven but with oddly full sideburns. "I think they're starting to figure out there's no good way out of this for them."
Emerson's brief shiver was readily noticed by the other man, whose ruddy eyebrows lifted slightly. "You don't have to participate in the ritual itself," spoke the man. "In fact, if your heart isn't going to be in it, it'd be best for you not to be present when things begin. It could weaken the potency of the magic."
Emerson nodded, refusing to look at the other man. "You'll get no argument from me on that front," he said quietly, turning to leave.
Before he could actually take a step away, he heard the sorcerer speak.
"Sometimes we must do terrible things to achieve what we want, what we need. Things that scar our souls."
Emerson stopped, but didn't turn to face the man from another world. "Funny," he said flatly. "You sound an awful lot like the bitch who killed my family."
Hans Westergard smiled, a cold, cruel thing that stretched across his aristocratic face. "I do so hope I get a chance to meet her," he said pleasantly, never tearing his gaze away from the prisoners digging the pit that would become the centerpiece of the gruesome ritual he had meticulously planned.
Emerson swallowed once. He hated the cold. He hated this world. He hated the savage, primitive Azgeda. He hated this sorcerer. But there were a few things, one young blonde woman above all, he hated even more. "I hope you do, too," he finally said.
—O—
It was the soft rapping of knuckles upon wood that woke Clarke from her sleep, and that unusual occurrence left the blonde momentarily disoriented.
She blinked her eyes open against the heaviness of sleep. She felt slightly groggy, and it took her a few moments to realize that the grogginess came from the fact she had slept the entire night, undisturbed by her customary nightmares.
As Clarke gently moved Lexa's strong left arm from where it remained protectively draped over her, she turned and placed a kiss on Lexa's forehead.
Without opening her eyes, Lexa sighed, but before she could stir, Clarke gently pressed her fingertips to Lexa's bare shoulder, pleased when Lexa snuggled deeper into the bed and smiled in her sleep.
Carefully Clarke extricated herself from the bed, quickly but quietly grabbing a light brown pair of pants and shirt that she had picked out the night before. She took them with her into the bathroom, dressing in the bathroom once she was finished. She took her belt from the table still covered with weapons, then she retrieved her pistol from where it rested just beneath her pillow, sliding it gently into the holster as she adjusted the belt around her waist.
She was nearly at the door to their room when she stopped and smiled as she saw a small pile of sketch pads, charcoal and colored pencils carefully placed on one of the small tables in the room. She crossed the short distance to more closely inspect the items that had to have been placed there overnight or earlier that morning before she awoke.
In addition to the assortment of art materials, lying atop one of the sketch pads was a carefully drawn diagram of what had to be the castle, only instead of writing in a language which Clarke likely wouldn't be able to read, simple pictures had been drawn and keyed to indicate different areas of the castle.
Clarke nearly laughed at the ingenuity someone had put into the map, with a blonde head and a brunette head indicating what was likely the bedroom she and Lexa currently occupied, a table with food on it marking one room, two thrones indicating a throne room and flowers for an outdoor area that might represent a garden. Being careful not to make any noise, she carefully picked up a coat and gloves, then took one of the larger sketch pads and a small leather case of pencils and charcoals before opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.
Her heart skipped a beat when she saw two guards standing just outside the door, spears resting against the floor, and she nearly dropped the things she was carrying when her left hand reflexively went for her pistol. But they only smiled and lightly bowed when they turned to look at her, then they returned to their previous guard positions.
Clarke mumbled an apology, regardless of whether or not they could understand it, then she started down the hallway toward the main staircase. After several steps, she looked up to see a petite blonde walking toward her. Her pale hair was lighter than Clarke's but not quite as platinum as Elsa's, long enough to hang down just below her shoulders but brushed back and pinned up and in place with white and pink hair pins. She was wearing an intensely red-orange dress that immediately made Clarke think of the coral wax crayon she had found shortly after landing on the ground, with a simple pearl necklace falling just above her collarbones and tan leather boots barely visible beneath the long hem of her dress slightly tempering the brightness of the dress's fabric.
"Hello," Clarke said, out of reflex as much as anything else, then she winced as she realized that the woman wasn't going to be able to understand her. They had still not determined exactly why Anna, Elsa and their twin daughters were able to comprehend what Clarke and Lexa said and vice versa, and that continued to annoy each of them.
The woman smiled and replied, the consonants and vowels still not adding up to anything Clarke was familiar with. But then the woman reached up and touched the a bleached white shell that made up part of her necklace.
Instantly the shell glowed a warm yellow briefly before fading back to the bone-white it had been before.
"Can you understand me now?" asked the woman, her smile even broader than before.
"Yes!" Clarke nearly shouted. "Oh my God, yes!" She stared at the necklace, than back at the woman's face. "How did you do that?!"
"It's the necklace," replied the woman, gesturing toward the necklace but not actually touching it. "It has a translation spell on it that lets me speak and understand different languages. I don't normally wear it except on business, but when Hilde explained to me the situation with you and your partner, I thought it might be helpful."
The blonde extended her right hand. "I'm Arista," she said.
"Clarke," replied the visitor from another world as she freed her right hand long enough to grasp and shake Arista's proffered hand. "And my wife is Lexa, but, um, she's still asleep." Clarke smiled sheepishly. "Yesterday was kind of a crazy day."
"I bet." Arista had been just been briefed by Elsa earlier that morning, and Hilde had told her much of the story Clarke and Lexa had related to Anna and Elsa last night after Arista had returned to the castle from another scouting trip deep into the north.
Clarke nodded. "Still processing that magic is real," she said quietly.
"It's funny," Arista replied. "To me, a world without magic is just as hard to comprehend." She smiled slyly, almost teasingly. "I was born what you'd call a mermaid."
Clarke dumbly stared at the blonde for several seconds. "You're shitting me," she finally said. "You have to be."
Arista shook her head slowly, still grinning. She turned around, spotting a nearby open door and then walking over to it. She stopped just in the doorway, then turned back to Clarke. She jumped up, grabbing the doorway's wooden frame with her fingertips and pulling herself up until her feet were nearly half a meter off the ground. Seeing that Clarke was watching her intently, Arista winked once, then a shimmer of red-orange light formed around her lower body, completely covering it for less than a second before fading to reveal a thick, muscular tail covered with crimson scales lightening to a soft pink at the very end poking out from beneath the hem of her dress. Arista flexed her tail back and forth once before another shimmer of red-orange sparkles and mist sprung to life; when it faded, Arista's lower legs and feet were once again where they should be. A moment after that, she dropped to the floor once again.
"Picked up that little trick after my father was killed," Arista said as she walked back over to Clarke, who was still speechless. "All of us inherited some of his magic. My oldest sister got most of it, but each of us somehow got the ability to change back and forth into a human form. Learning to walk was kind of a mess, but I got it down after a few weeks."
Perhaps every day she spent in Arendelle Clarke would see something else that would render her speechless. She was seriously considering that possibility.
"I take it they don't have mermaids where you come from either?" asked Arista, a saucy smirk stretching between her fair cheeks.
"Definitely not," Clarke finally managed to say.
"But then you've probably got stuff we don't have either, right?" Arista pointed at the holstered pistol on Clarke's belt. "Probably that's one of them, because I've never seen anything like it. It's a weapon of some kind?"
Clarke nodded. Lexa would be deflecting the question, and God knows that probably would have been the smartest response to the innocent-sounding inquiry, but at this point Clarke felt like honesty was the best way to go. They had been treated respectfully, graciously and honestly as far as Clarke could tell, and it was time she and Lexa repaid that. "It's called a pistol," she said quietly. "I can't really demonstrate for you in here, but yeah, it's most definitely a weapon."
Arista nodded. "Most things with triggers tend to involve someone or something getting hurt. I usually see them on crossbows, but the trigger on your little 'pistol' seemed obvious enough."
Clarke nodded. "It works on the same principle as a cannon, with gunpowder and a metal projectile, but small enough to carry and with the ability to fire multiple times before having to reload."
Arista blinked several times. "Gods," she mumbled, her gaze lingering on the black device for several seconds before she was able to tear it away and refocus on Clarke's face. "Surely it's not as destructive as a cannon." I hope.
"No, definitely not, but it's more than enough to kill someone, even at a distance."
There was an uncomfortable silence for several seconds before Arista cleared her throat. "Well, while a darker part of me wants to see a demonstration, the rest of me hopes that I never do," she replied honestly, while making a mental note to urgently brief her Queens on the capabilities of this "pistol."
Clarke nodded. "I feel the same way," she said quietly. "But life has a way of making us do shitty things we wish we'd never had to do."
Arista's eyes snapped back to Clarke's, and briefly Clarke saw haunted emotions swirl deep in the blonde's ice blue eyes. Her fair face never betrayed anything in its careful expression, but Clarke had seen that same look of longing, of regret, of sad acceptance in many pairs of eyes over the last year, in her own eyes most of all.
"Yeah, it does," Arista replied, her barely-audible voice just above a whisper. "But someone has to do them. To protect others from having to do those things. Or from having them done to them."
Clarke smiled, and despite the sadness she felt in her own heart at being reminded of the horrible things she had had to do since coming to the ground, she felt a kind of kinship in this odd woman—this mermaid, for God's sake—she had just met. Deciding to put self-recrimination behind her for at least a day, Clarke forced a smile on her face. "So... where's a nice place to just sit and relax here?"
—O—
Three hours later, on the far side of the castle, what would have been a routine meeting of Arendelle's Royal Council had been spiced up with the addition of a rather unusual observer.
As two of the more recalcitrant members of the Council degenerated into bickering over the latest trade proposal from Balta, Elsa looked to her left and gave Lexa a warm smile, despite the admittedly fearsome appearance of the woman from another world.
Lexa was dressed in the clothes she had originally arrived in, now cleaned with the dark fabric once again black as a starless night and the dark leather nearly gleaming. A strange design had been painted onto Lexa's face, reminiscent of both tears and a spread pair of dark wings, and the way Lexa's bright green eyes seemed to glow in the midst of the dark paint certainly made for an intimidating presence.
Those intelligent green eyes shifted to meet Elsa's blue ones.
"Sometimes I let them argue for a bit," Elsa whispered as she leaned slightly toward Lexa, coaxing a sly smile out of the fierce brunette. "It helps them vent some frustration, especially when it's two older nobles who've been at odds with each other for years."
Lexa nodded once. "I usually just throw someone off the balcony of my tower," she whispered back, her face carefully stoic.
Elsa smiled back. "I suppose that subdues the discussion rather quickly."
Lexa nodded. "Generally so."
"I just usually do this," Elsa said, lifting and flicking her right hand through the air as she and Lexa looked at each other conspiratorially.
Abruptly the air grew cold, then a brief but strong deluge of snow fell throughout the room, almost instantly covering everyone and everything except for Elsa and Lexa. Only seconds later, Elsa waved her hand again, and the snow vanished immediately, leaving most of the council red-faced but dry, still sporting looks of shock. A few papers had been nudged out of place, but they were once again dry and otherwise undisturbed once the snow dissipated.
Elsa turned to regard the dozen-or-so council members present that day. "Are you done bickering yet, Count Hjaller, Marquis Sigurdsson?" she asked coolly. Receiving delayed but curt nods in response, Elsa smiled pleasantly. "Excellent. Then perhaps we can return to a subject I've been saving for the end of the meeting—the murders in the north."
At once the men and few women in the room sat up straighter, their eyes becoming more intent and losing the glassiness of fatigue and boredom. Seeing the change in demeanor, Elsa nodded imperceptibly, then gestured beside her with her left hand to indicate Lexa. "As I mentioned at the start of this council meeting, Heda Lexa of the Thirteen Clans is here pursuing a band of rogues and murderers who have fled their lands, from very far away." Much farther than any of you could imagine, she added mentally.
"Lexa and her mate, Clarke, believe that this group of raiders is to blame for the murders up north. As such, they have offered their nation's support as well as their personal assistance in helping to pursue and capture these brigands."
The murmuring that sprang to life in the council chamber was quite expected to Elsa, although it remained odd to Lexa, who generally did not tolerate whispered discussions among her own council. But a close look at Elsa revealed the Arendellan Queen was entirely comfortable with such discussion, and she answered Lexa's questioning gaze with a reassuring smile.
"Councillors," Elsa finally spoke, quietly but firmly, and at once the entire chamber fell silent once more. "Anna and I have already accepted the offer of aid from the Thirteen Clans on behalf of Arendelle. Several days ago, we dispatched riders to warn the villages in the north of Arendelle, as the family that was found slain lived in isolation several days away from the nearest settlement. While it would be impossible for our riders to individually warn every house, hopefully the villages will be able to spread the word to the nearby homes more efficiently once they have been made aware of this incident."
A raised hand drew Elsa's and Lexa's attention. "Gentlewoman Stokke," Elsa said in acknowledgment to an older woman, who stood once recognized, long but curly white hair hanging loose behind her.
"Your Majesty," the woman said politely, bowing quickly and simply. "There have been rumors circulating among some families of Arendelle regarding... the gruesome nature of the deaths."
Elsa nodded once, and the smile faded from her face. "Yes," she said simply, then paused. "Unfortunately, this seems to be a situation where the rumors are most likely true." Again the whispers began, but they ceased as soon as Elsa spoke again. "Anna and I are already working on this. As soon as these murderers are found, we, along with Heda Lexa and Wanheda Clarke, will bring these killers to a swift end."
The anger that was evident on Elsa's otherwise-controlled visage made Lexa raise a dark eyebrow. It was the most evidence Lexa had seen yet that the Winter Queen was indeed capable of the grim actions that being a ruler required, and while most people would have considered the acceptance of killing's necessity to be a moral failing, for Lexa it was, sadly, much the opposite. Those who would wantonly brutalize and murder others would never stop willingly; it would instead fall upon others to claim the burden of ending such monsters' sowing of terror and tears, even should it cost them their own souls.
Such was the burden of being a leader. Lexa had known and understood that from an early age. To be Heda was to sacrifice one's self, one's own life, for the good of those she or he commanded. But there was even more required to be the best ruler possible, and that was a lesson that had taken Lexa her whole life—and one proud, stubborn, brave, brilliant blonde girl from the sky—to learn.
A leader who ruled by fear and respect could lead a people to peace, to stability, to prosperity. Such a ruler could ensure her people survived. But a ruler whose people loved her in addition to respecting her, well, such a ruler could give her people the opportunity to truly live, to thrive and prosper and cultivate happiness in their lives.
Such a ruler was rare indeed. But Lexa realized she was looking at one that very moment. She had watched the blonde skillfully conduct her council meeting for the last two hours, smoothing out differences, solving supply issues with different cities, dealing with legal questions, reviewing and issuing rulings and statements, all without having to overtly threaten a single person.
Lexa sighed. Unfortunately, that management approach simply wouldn't work in her and Clarke's world. Not for many years to come, she feared.
"This council meeting is hereby adjourned," Elsa spoke, bringing Lexa's thoughts back to the present situation. The men and women of Arendelle's Royal Council stood and began to file out of the room after politely bowing once more to Elsa, then the blonde Queen turned her attention back to Lexa.
"Was it different from your usual council meetings?" asked Elsa, and Lexa could detect no hint of condescension or criticism in the question, just what felt like honest curiosity.
Lexa blinked once, then decided to take the conversation in a different direction. "How long have you and your mate ruled?" she asked, and immediately she hated how young she sounded as she spoke the words.
"Anna and I have ruled Arendelle for fifteen years now," Elsa replied quietly.
Lexa nodded. The confidence and skill with which she had watched Elsa handle her councilors certainly fit with many years of experience. "So you were children when you ascended to the throne?"
Elsa laughed, and Lexa had to tamp down the flicker of irritation she felt at the reaction to her inquiry.
"Not quiet," Elsa said, regaining her calm composure. "I was crowned ruler on my twentieth birthday, and Anna and I married shortly after that, making her Queen as well. She was eighteen."
Confusion flashed across Lexa's face, entirely out of place with the fearsome ebony mask of war paint. "But that would make you thirty-five," she said. "And you appear to be the same age as me."
Elsa nodded. "I am thirty-five," she said. "And Anna is thirty-three. We had Elin and Erin during the second year of our reign, just before the second anniversary of my coronation."
Lexa inclined her head slightly. "My apologies for my assumption regarding your ages," she said quietly.
"No apology needed," Elsa quickly replied. "It's a different world, with different rules."
Lexa smiled. "Indeed it is."
Elsa gently patted Lexa's hand once. "Shall we go find our brides, Heda Lexa?"
Another nod, and now Lexa's smile grew wider. "I would like that very much, Your Majesty."
—O—
It had taken Anna several minutes to find where Clarke had sequestered herself in the castle gardens, but as she finally spotted the wavy blonde hair amidst the multicolored sea of ice flowers, Anna had to admit that this spot was likely the best place to be in the entire garden.
"They're beautiful, aren't they?"
Clarke jumped at the sound of someone's voice, nearly dropping the sketch pad holding her latest drawing. "Jesus!" she hissed, clutching at her chest. "I didn't hear you coming!"
Anna smiled. "Sorry," she said teasingly. She spread her arms and looked from side to side. "This is my favorite part of the garden, too," she said, using a quieter voice as she watched Clarke visibly try to settle herself.
"Are these all ice?" Clarke asked, still finding it hard to believe despite over an hour spent examining, touching, sniffing and finally drawing several of the otherworldly flowers crafted entirely from magical ice, that they looked and moved nearly identically to regular flowers.
Anna nodded. "In this section, yes. This way part of the garden is always in bloom, so to speak." She leaned forward to more closely peer at the drawing of the gold and orange lily-like blossoms Clarke had been in the process of drawing. "Wow! You really are a good artist."
"Huh?" Clarke reflexively replied, looking first to Anna and then following the redhead's gaze back to her arms. "Oh! Uh, thanks!" She offered the pad to Anna for closer examination. "I starting drawing at an early age. It relaxes me."
"These are lovely," Anna murmured, mostly to herself as she looked through the completed drawings Clarke had quickly accumulated.
"Are all these Elsa's?" asked Clarke, looking around again. "I mean, she made them all herself?"
Anna looked back up, then she smiled. "We actually make them together. Sometimes we'll start with a specific idea or color for a flower or two, but most of the time we just hold hands and walk through the garden, or stand in one spot and hug and kiss while the magic flows through us and spills out."
"And together that makes all these..." Clarke said, her voice trailing off as she considered that she might have to broaden her definition of the term artist.
The soft clicking of heels on stone announced someone approaching them, and by the way Anna's smile stretched across her face, Clarke was fairly sure she knew just who it was. However, she wasn't entirely prepared to see Lexa, fully garbed as Heda, walking beside Elsa as the two talked and smiled, as if they were two old friends sharing stories.
"Looks like our wives have had a good morning so far, huh?" Anna said cheerily. There was no hint of jealously or hidden intent in her voice. She and Elsa had been through far too much and understood each other far too well for there to be any misunderstanding or insecurity between them.
"Hopefully Lexa managed to not kill anyone at your council meeting this morning," Clarke said, only half-joking. Seeing Anna's curious look, Clarke gave the redhead a weak smile. "Council meetings of the Thirteen Clans tend to be pretty stressful, to put it mildly." Clarke smiled sadly as she turned to look at Lexa again. "It takes a strong leader to rule a group of warriors ready to kill each other at the blink of an eye. And Lexa's been doing it for years. It's not fair, but..."
It never would be fair, not to Lexa or to Clarke. But they had no choice other than to bear the burden of leadership for their people. They were capable of doing the job, and things would invariably be worse without the two of them working together.
Clarke was focusing intently on not giving the tears threatening to form in her eyes the satisfaction of her wiping them away, so she was startled when she felt gentle fingers rest lightly on her left shoulder.
"Sorry," Anna said softly. "Didn't mean to spook you." She smiled, and the expression was rich with compassion, so evident and heartfelt that it nearly took Clarke's breath away.
"You know..." Anna said slowly, "the two of you don't have to go back, if things are that bad."
And there it was.
Clarke quickly closed her eyes, too slow to stem the trickle of tears that the movement finally cast into motion.
It had been a hope that she had refused to even think, dared not to grace with the slightest bit of serious consideration, but now it had been said, had been offered freely, and now Clarke was forced to face what she had dreamed about on those rare nights where her sleep had been free of hauntings and nightmares.
As Elsa and Lexa reached the center of the garden, they were witness to Clark momentarily breaking down and crying, her shoulders rocking once, twice, three times as Anna gathered the blonde girl in her arms, hugging her tightly while murmuring apologies to her while Clarke let herself cry.
"Hey, Clarke," Anna said, feeling her own eyes sting at inadvertently upsetting their new friend. "I'm sorry, Clarke," Anna said. "I really am!" She looked up, meeting concerned blue eyes and swirling, stormy green ones. Anna fixed her gaze on Lexa's piercing eyes, knowing that Elsa would be moving to stand with Anna (and feeling Elsa's smooth fingers slide protectively around Anna's upper arms as Elsa moved to embrace Anna did indeed help Anna calm herself slightly).
"I just told her that you two didn't have to go back to your world if you didn't want to," Anna said, feeling terrible that she had upset Clarke so badly, despite not knowing exactly why her words had struck the blonde with such emotional impact.
At once Lexa's stormy eyes shifted inside their field of black paint, widening with surprise before slowly softening. "We... appreciate your offer," Lexa said, reaching up and resting the palm of her right hand between Clarke's shoulder blades. "And as gracious as your offer is, we have responsibilities to our people." Lexa looked down at the stone tiles where they were standing. "We cannot stay," she quietly said, her words tasting like ashes in her mouth.
"We understand," Elsa said patiently, meeting Lexa's gaze as the brunette looked back up. "Many years ago, Anna and I once tried to abdicate this throne, to live only for each other and leave Arendelle behind."
"Yeah, we kinda messed things up," Anna said, trying to keep her voice light.
"A pointed understatement, my heart," said Elsa, rubbing Anna's upper arms lovingly. "Two wars and many deaths later, we learned a bloody lesson from our moment of selfishness."
Lexa nodded, unwilling to join in the joint embrace but her skin crawling to comfort Clarke. Her agony was assuaged when Clarke turned, stepping out of Anna's embrace and into Lexa's, a gesture so reflexive on Lexa's part that she wasn't even aware of her arms moving until Clarke was held securely in them. "We fear much the same happening, the longer we are away," Lexa finally said, hiding the relieved smile that threatened to bloom across her lips in Clarke's blonde hair. "The clan leaders are a proud, violent sort, and the actions of a few of the Sky People threatens the peace between them and the other twelve clans."
Lexa placed a kiss on Clarke's forehead as the blonde looked up at her mate, eyes red and sad but a proud smile upon her face. "Charles Pike and a few assholes aren't going to destroy the peace we've worked so hard to build," Clarke said. "We're not going to let them."
Lexa smiled as she looked into Clarke's red-limned blue irises. "The people believe in Wanheda," she said softly, "but I believe in Clarke even more."
Clarke was totally unprepared for the sudden surge of tears that overtook her, so she just let the emotion sweep her forward and against Lexa's lips, kissing her spouse with a passion tinged with anger and desperation. Neither dark emotion was present because of Lexa, but that didn't keep Clarke from clutching Lexa as tightly as she would to hope in a nightmare, for hope was exactly what Lexa represented to Clarke.
"You give me strength," Clarke whispered against the skin of Lexa's cheek.
Lexa carefully shook her head. "You had tremendous strength long before I met you," she whispered back, her throat tight. "I simply remind you of that fact when you need to hear it."
Anna and Elsa stood patiently, Anna reaching up with her right hand to grasp Elsa's right just above Anna's right shoulder where Elsa stood behind her, letting the two young women have a moment with each other. After all, they understood that all-important need quite well themselves.
"Pardon, Your Majesties," came a male voice from the direction of the nearest entrance to the castle. "Your visitors have arrived. They are waiting for you to receive them in the throne room."
"Excellent, thank you," Elsa said, raising her voice to be heard clearly while turning her head to avoid shouting into Anna's ear. She turned to regard Lexa and Clarke once more.
Lexa stood strong and still, holding Clarke while her houmon gathered herself once more. After a few moments, Clarke opened her eyes and smiled, then she leaned forward and kissed Lexa's lips.
"I think all this magic is making me more emotional," Clarke mumbled.
"It cannot make you any more beautiful," Lexa whispered as she gently stroked a finger across Clarke's cheek.
Clarke smiled and blushed at the same time, unable to form words momentarily, but her blue eyes were more than eloquent enough for Lexa, who returned the smile despite the fearsome design painted on her face.
"Anna and I must receive our new guests in the throne room," Elsa said, stepping to the side and reaching out to take Anna's left hand as it was offered to her.
"Is it your friends?" asked Clarke. "The ones you were expecting?"
"Yes," replied Elsa. "They like things to be done... properly. And for official protocols to be followed."
Clarke looked at Lexa, whose mask of stoic indifference was already in place once more, secure beneath the black warpaint. "Do I get to put on my face paint as well?" she asked.
"If you can put it on while we're walking to the throne room!" Anna called out over her shoulder; she and Elsa were already following the path out of the garden.
It just then struck Clarke that both Anna and Elsa were now barefoot. Even with the sun at its highest, it had still been cold enough for Clarke's breath to frost while she painted. She stopped long enough to reach down and press the palm of her right hand to the stone path, shivering at the cold rock leaching the heat from her skin.
The touch of Lexa's hand on her left shoulder made Clarke look up to a concerned-looking brunette staring down at her. "It's nothing," Clarke said quickly, standing and brushing her hand off on her coat. She began walking at a brisk pace, trying to catch up with the blonde and red heads nearing one of the doors into the castle from the gardens. Lexa quickly matched Clarke's pace, letting Clarke enter the castle first before drawing abreast of her while they made their way down the massive main hallway.
"They were barefoot," Clarke said at a whisper; they were still far enough back from Elsa and Anna to converse without being heard, although they were catching up. "I mean out in the garden."
Lexa nodded. She had also noticed that; somewhere between the council meeting she had attended with Elsa, when the Queen had most definitely been wearing shoes that appeared to be made of glass or crystal, and the conversation in the castle gardens, those shoes had seemingly disappeared. "The cold refuses to harm them, it seems," she replied in a low voice.
Further discussion was forestalled by the sight of Elsa and Anna entering an ornate set of double doors, flanked by two guards armed with spears in their hands and swords on their belts. The absence of Lexa's sword at her waist was prominent to the warrior, and even the dagger sheathed inside her long leather coat and the smaller knife in her right boot failed to completely replace her favored weapon's absence.
As they reached the two guards, Lexa and Clarke saw the man and woman continue to hold the doors open for them, obviously waiting for them to enter. After a moment's hesitation, Lexa nodded to them and stepped forward, Clarke right behind her.
Elsa was already seated upon her throne, which appeared to be made entirely of ice, upon a three-stepped stone dais. A second ice throne rested beside it, identical in size and material but slightly different in styling, and Anna was just settling herself into it as Clarke and Lexa entered the room.
Looking around and unsure of where to position herself to avoid causing a scene, Clarke nervously turned to the Arendellan Queens. "Where do we stand?" she hissed, just above a whisper.
Elsa turned to look at them, off to the side and between the thrones and the door through which they had entered. "You're fine right there. This will just take a few moments, then we can dispense with the formalities." She grinned. "You're fine right there. Really."
A sharp bang at the far end of the long throne room made Clarke jerk and Lexa reach for the dagger hidden in her coat. The tall, dark wooden doors swung outward slowly, admitting first two guards armed with long spears who took positions on each side of the wide doorway. Then a uniformed man stepped inside and stopped. After a moment he loudly proclaimed, "To Their Majesties the Summer Queen Anna and the Winter Queen Elsa of Arendelle, presenting the Princess of the Moonglades!"
Clarke couldn't understand what the man had said other than Anna's and Elsa's names, but the entrance of the first visitor kept her from pondering the strange words. The young woman who entered the throne room, striding up the scarlet carpet running the length of the throne room to the dais holding the thrones of the queens, was dressed in an ornate black corset and gown, with dark leather and brass fittings and buckles providing the only sparkles of color. She looked to be similar in age to Anna and Elsa, at least by the standards of appearance, with a pretty face, a bare, slender neck and the exposed tops of her shoulders and upper chest visible to where her dark corset began just above her breasts. She was blonde, with her hair pulled back and held in place with a brass tiara that had an odd shape to it. As the woman drew closer, Clarke saw her eyes slide over to appraise her and Lexa, but the blonde only smiled confidently at them for a moment before returning her attention to the two Queens awaiting her on the dais.
It was the second woman who entered the throne room that drew their attention away from the unusual blonde.
"To Their Majesties the Summer Queen Anna and the Winter Queen Elsa of Arendelle, presenting the Lady of the Moonglades!"
As the tall woman entered the throne room, it was as if the shadows drew themselves out of the far corners of the massive room and thrust their gloomy bodies into the center, in full defiance of the bright sunlight entering through the tall, thin windows of the expansive hall. The shadows seemed to swirl around the towering but slender woman, their ebon shade making the paleness of her sharp-lined face nearly glow in contrast to their embrace. She was dressed a robe of simplest but darkest black, so intense that no wrinkles or lines could be seen as she slowly walked toward the women awaiting her. The silhouette of her cloak drew Clarke's eyes; it seemed to be cut or tailored in a way as to make it appear tattered along its hem, and the flame-like flickering of its dark tongues of fabric could have been mesmerizing, were they not surpassed by the woman's eyes.
It was the intense, burning green of the woman's eyes that pulled Clarke's gaze toward them, a magnetic attraction that left Clarke torn between wanting to kiss the strange woman and wanting to flee from the room entirely. Thinking of Lexa's own brilliant green eyes, Clarke summoned the willpower to look at her lover; she was not surprised when she saw the same uneasiness on Lexa's face, mirroring her own just seconds ago.
Clarke had opened her mouth to convey her reaction to the unusual woman when she noticed a detail so unexpected that her mind had initially ignored the possibility of it being real, but as she looked carefully, there was no doubt.
The woman had two long, dark, spiraling horns rising up from her head.
And as Clarke considered that, the woman's luminescent eyes snapped to look directly at her, stopping Clarke's breath in her chest. The woman flashed a smile full of white teeth that conjured the word predatory from somewhere deep in Clarke's subconscious, and Clarke felt herself reflexively squeezing Lexa's arm more tightly until the woman had looked away, returning her attention to the two monarchs and the blonde woman now standing before them, who had turned to look at the approaching woman.
As the otherworldly woman stopped beside the shorter blonde, the moment slowed to a crawl, before the blonde spoke, her words just as inaudible to Clarke and Lexa as nearly everyone else in this world seemed to be.
"The two of you are always welcome in Arendelle, of course!" replied Anna, her voice possessing its usual cheery tone.
"And thank you both for coming," Elsa added, as she and Anna rose from their thrones and descended the steps to greet the two women, with a polite hug for the blonde and a courteous nod and warm smile for the taller woman. "I fear Arendelle is much in need of your expertise."
The four of them began walking toward Lexa and Clarke, who both remained still. Neither of them was going to flinch or yield, regardless of how odd the tall woman's appearance was or how unnerving her presence felt. They had both faced down their own deaths and their own demons, and now that the initial unease had passed, they stood straighter and refused to flinch or be intimidated.
"Well!" spoke the strange woman, her green eyes piercing as she inspected Clarke and Lexa from head to toe. A broad smile again stretched across her face as she stopped several paces away from the two of them, and the blonde woman stopped as her companion did. "You do keep the most interesting friends, Your Majesties," she purred.
The pale woman turned to look at Elsa and Anna, and Clarke's eyes were immediately drawn to how her horns disappeared beneath her jet-black hair and turned with the rest of her head. And then she realized something quite odd.
"You..." Clarke said, drawing the attention (and the intense gaze) of the tall horned woman once more. "I can understand you!"
"Well, I would certainly hope so," said the woman. "I am speaking quite clearly."
"And you understand us as well?" asked Lexa.
The shorter blonde woman said something, but again neither Clarke or Lexa could understand her.
"Yes, much the same with us," Elsa said. "Anna and I can understand them, and they can understand us, but no one else can communicate with them."
"The cold is understood in all languages, Your Majesties, across all cultures," the tall woman said breezily, as if it were a fact even the youngest child should have known. But then she fixed Lexa and Clarke both with a thin, humorless smile before purring in a lower register, "...as is danger."
Clarke started to mention the magical necklace Arista had used to speak with her earlier, but the horned woman was already saying, "Perhaps a translation spell might be in order." She turned to look at the shorter blonde woman, lifting a hand to reveal long, spidery fingers with short nails; she gently caressed the blonde woman's chin, trailing a lone index finger across the woman's left cheek until it reached her pink lips, where the woman leaned forward and captured the finger, sucking half of it into her mouth in a display of sensuality shocking in its openness and shamelessness.
"Mmmm," murmured the tall woman, eyes fluttering closed as she enjoyed the warmth coursing through her body from the affectionate gesture from her lover. "Ah!" she suddenly uttered, jerking her finger out from between the teeth now on display in the blonde woman's mouth from where she had bitten the tall woman's finger.
The smirk on the blonde's face nearly made Clarke laugh as she began to reconsider which one of the two truly held dominion over the other. Then the blonde said something that made Anna erupt in laughter and Elsa blush before covering her mouth to laugh politely as well.
The horned woman looked vexed for a moment, but then her face softened before she broke into a grin again. "I think you've reminded us all just which one of us is the princess and which one of us is the lady, my dear," she said slyly, only to have the blonde step forward, stand on her tiptoes, grab the taller woman's black cloak and pull her into a deep, passionate kiss. The kiss lasted for several seconds, and when the blonde woman pulled back, she smiled up to the horned woman and gently pressed her right hand against the taller woman's sharp-boned cheek.
The blonde then turned and walked toward Clarke and Lexa. She was saying something in a soft tone, but the words remained lost on them. She stopped just short of the two of them. As this close distance, Clarke was able to scrutinize the metallic boning on the woman's corset; seeing short but sharp-looking thorns protruding from the brass trim and fittings was more than a bit unexpected to her.
The blonde held her hands out in front of her, palms up, as if she were offering them to Clarke. Clarke hesitated for a moment before placing her own left hand atop the blonde's left hand. The blonde smiled and patted Clarke's hand gently. She used her left hand to gently hold Clarke's hand while moving her right hand out to the side. With a brief flourish, she was suddenly holding a brass thorn between her thumb and forefinger.
Very slowly, the blonde held her right hand up so that the thorn was clearly visible to Clarke. Her expression was calm but focused as she looked at Clarke, then at the thorn, then at Clarke again. Without moving the hand holding the sharp thorn, the blonde gently turned Clarke's left hand over and positioned her thumb to lift the tip of Clarke's little finger over the others.
Clarke's breath was nearly ragged, and when she looked over at Lexa, who looked ready to interpose herself between the blonde and Clarke any moment, Clarke knew she had to do something. "I-It's okay, Lexa," Clarke said, her voice stumbling. "I don't think she's trying to hurt me."
Lexa steeled herself to remain perfectly still, despite her muscles burning to step in front of Clarke and protect her. A quick glance at Elsa and Anna showed the two of them remained perfectly relaxed, if curious, as to what was happening.
When the blonde looked back into Clarke's eyes, Clarke understood the look of questioning as the blonde held the metal thorn close to Clarke's finger, not touching it. Clarke swallowed and nodded, trying to wordlessly grant the woman permission to proceed.
The blonde smiled, and with a gentle prick, she had drawn a drop of blood from the tip of Clarke's little finger. The crimson drop swelled slowly, but the woman released Clarke's hand and moved to stand before Lexa. Without hesitation, Lexa lifted her left hand, palm up, and let the blonde take it. The blonde smiled, and with a simple grasp of Lexa's hand and movement of her right hand, a drop of black blood began to blossom on the tip of Lexa's finger as well.
With the only visible reaction to Lexa's blood a lift of the blonde's delicate right eyebrow, the blonde opened her pinched finger and thumb, and the thorn suddenly disappeared, allowing her to take Clarke's left hand with her left and Lexa's proffered hand with her right. She quickly spoke a few words as she clasped their hands, then both Clarke and Lexa felt a swell of warmth wash over them, followed by a tingling they each felt at the back of their throats.
"There!" said the blonde, releasing their hands as she smiled at the two of them. "That should do it."
"An interesting choice of translation spell," spoke the horned woman, and it seemed to Clarke that she could detect evident pride in the woman's words.
"It seemed the most efficient," replied the blonde, her words now quite understandable to Clarke and Lexa both. "Using their own blood to power the spell allowed me to enhance the duration indefinitely, as their bodies will be quite capable of maintaining such negligible drain without them even noticing." She turned to look at Lexa. "Particularly this one," she added. "Although both of them seem quite healthy and lovely."
"Remember to whom you belong," said the horned woman, stepping forward.
The blonde woman laughed, then turned and moved to embrace the taller woman. "As if I could ever forget, silly! You are my True Love, after all." She placed a quick kiss on the dark red lips of the taller woman before she turned her head to regard Clarke and Lexa once more. "And besides that, they're already joined to each other. The bond between them sings in their blood, and it might turn out to be more True than even they realize."
Anna stepped forward. "Lexa, Clarke, these are our friends Briar Rose, Princess of the Moonglades, and Maleficent, Lady of the Moonglades. There are no greater experts on the field of dark magic anywhere in the world."
"Well," spoke Briar Rose as she released Maleficent, "that might be true for Mal, but I'm still learning."
"And Rose, Maleficent, these are our new friends Lexa, leader of the Thirteen Clans, and her wife Clarke, leader of the Sky People. They're from—"
"—Somewhere else entirely," Maleficent said, stepping forward without her body seeming to move. "Most intriguing, I must say." She turned to look at Anna and Elsa again. "And here I thought you were bringing us here to ask us some boring questions about a few murders. It turns out that you've prepared quite the—"
"Maleficent!" Rose said sharply. "Some of their citizens have been killed! We need to address that business first, particularly if there's a dark sorcerer involved like they suspect." Reaching out to take the horned woman's right hand, Rose softened her voice. "I learned patience from you, my love. Along with several other wonderful things." She batted her eyes at Maleficent, then said with a decidedly softer, sultrier voice, "Good things come to those who wait... and bad things come too," ending with a devilish grin for the taller woman.
As Maleficent looked down at the smaller woman, her eyes seemed to glow as the fierce expression on her face gentled. "For you, my dear, I can wait an eternity," she said calmly.
Briar Rose smiled back. "Well, it's a good thing you won't have to wait too long, isn't it? Besides, sometimes waiting for something makes it all the sweeter when your lips close around it, hm?"
A giggle from Anna broke the thick silence and drew everyone's attention. "Sorry," Anna said, sounding nothing of the sort. "Nice one, Rose," she added with a nod to the blonde.
"High praise, coming from you," replied Rose, grinning. "The master of embarrassing your poor love."
"Perhaps it would be most efficient for us to save the foreplay for later, hmm?" said Maleficent, her voice rich and honeyed. "For now it seems we have not just one," she spoke as she turned to look at Lexa and Clarke, "but rather two mysteries to solve."
—O—
Author's Afterword: I'm not entirely sure where I get a subtle bondage/domination vibe from when it comes to Rose/Aurora and Maleficent, but I definitely think one's there. Nothing hurtful or harmful, but more like a control/submission dynamic that makes both of them feel loved, needed, respected and fulfilled by the other. Obviously, Mal would be the domme and Rose the sub.
I also feel it important to clarify both Rose and Maleficent are very much in love and have freely and willingly become partners with each other, since that wasn't made completely clear in this brief introduction to them. They've explored different dynamics during their years with each other (much like Anna and Elsa, Rose ages much more slowly due to her being steeped in magic her whole life), but they're both utterly devoted and faithful to each other, Rose's occasional teasing notwithstanding (it's all to let Maleficent express her significant possessive streak, anyway, which Rose finds both adorable and endearing). As for why Rose is addressed as Briar Rose and not as Aurora, at least for now, I'll clarify that in the next chapter, but I suspect many of you will easily figure it out.
I try not to use Trigedasleng in my chapters for ease of reading, but I had to include Jusdonosir since it's being using as a title. The word roughly translates as "The one who bled for us." Yes, there's definitely a meaning to it that will be further explicated in later chapters, but you've already been given some major clues about it.
I hope this chapter has raised more questions, stimulated some thinking and given us all some more love when we need it the most. Stay strong and don't let hate shut you up or make you duck your head. Now it's more important than ever for us to not only stand up for ourselves, but also to stand up for each other.
See you when the next chapter is up!