"You know I can't be here for long," Lexa said with a genuine smile, stepping over a large tree root. Clarke turned around to face the Commander, unable to suppress her own beaming smile.
"I know," Clarke said, taking a few steps towards Lexa, meeting her halfway. "I just wanted to learn a bit about you, if that's okay? I can't help myself." Only a few minutes ago she had hastily written on her arm for Lexa to meet her only half a mile north of the drop ship. She gave into greed, not wanting to let her soulmate go. How could she? Not knowing anything about her, Clarke's instinct to pursue Lexa was unavoidable.
"What would you like to know?" Lexa asked quietly, keeping her words just for Clarke. She knew her riders and subjects were still wrapping up their materials from the Skaikru camp, preparing to sleep the night away, but she feared there wouldn't be much time for privacy. Sooner or later her riders would grow concern, and no doubt cause tension in the camp looking for her.
"Everything," Clarke said with a soft chuckle. Lexa returned the laugh, looking down at Clarke's hands instead of making eye contact. Her eyes were too beautiful for Lexa to gaze too long.
"Everything can be said another time," Lexa answered, still too bashful to look up for long. She felt completely disarmed in Clarke's presence, now that she knew what Clarke was to her. When they had first met, and in the company of her riders, she was able to comfortably play the role of Heda, but now all alone with her soulmate, she was stripped bare of all authoritative auras.
"We can just play a quick question game," Clarke suggested eagerly. "Come, let's sit." Nearby the girls were some large boulders, perhaps even imbued with the remnants of manmade concrete. They were probably in the site of an old town that existed before the nuclear apocalypse, now reduced to the rubble of a handful of slabs. Clarke sat on one that was large enough to seat them both, and Lexa humbly sat beside her. "I'll ask a question, then you ask one, and we keep going until we run out."
Lexa nodded.
"How old are you?" Clarke started off easy.
"Twenty," Lexa replied. Clarke raised her eyebrows in contemplation.
"I'm seventeen," Clarke reciprocated, watching Lexa express her own astonishment. "I'm turning eighteen soon, though."
"You're young," Lexa evaluated, "You give off an older feeling."
"I feel you kinda grow up fast in the Ark," Clarke explained. "It's your turn to ask a question."
"What is the Ark like?" Lexa asked, mustering the strength to look at Clarke's deep ocean blue eyes.
"Compressed," Clarke answered, feeling her word choice was absolutely appropriate. "Do you ever get this feeling that the place you're in is so small that it is actually suppressing your mind? I know that sounds weird, but living on the Ark… it just didn't feel right, or big enough. As if my instincts were trying to tell me that I needed higher ceilings in order to grow…" Clarke watched Lexa listen to her, feeling as if she were losing her. "It's not a place to grow, mentally or spiritually. It was just humanity trapped in a box, pretending everything was normal just so that we could sanely plan our trip back to Earth."
"I meant your people, Clarke," Lexa smiled, "Your culture. But it is nice to know how self-aware you are of your soul. I can only image that that is the reason why your mind felt so cramped in your home. The mind needs large open spaces to function primly."
Clarke blushed slightly, "Sorry, that's just always how I felt about the Ark. I never got the chance to say it when I lived there because of our sensitive government; as if it was a space version of Orwell's 1984- the thought police would come get me for not liking my life."
Focus, Clarke. Clarke's mind put up the red flags to notify her of her rambling.
"We all have a part to play," Clarke began explaining, "As I'm sure your society is the same. It's kind of hard to be what you truly want to be on the Ark, since you're more likely to earn a living working as what the Ark needs, instead of your dreams. For example, I would love to spend my time just drawing. I absolutely love art, but there really is no economy for it, not room, as creating works of art would probably take up too much space and resources. I decided to follow my mother's footsteps in the medical field…"
Clarke! Focus. On. The. Question.
"The majority of us have never had real meat more than once a year. Everything is synthetically made to resemble certain tastes, but not truly derived from a plant or animal. Our food still carried nutritional benefits, but we knew we were not eating natural food. We have small farm stations, who work on botany and farming, but their goods were usually reserved for higher ranking stations. It was not equally distributed. Medicine is rationed, as we do not have what we need to produce truly potent medicine, or keep up with demand. Because of the lack of resources and space in general, no one is allowed to have more than one child. If they break this law, or any other law, they are immediately executed if the individual is over the age of eighteen. If they are a minor, they are held in prison until they reach the age of execution."
Lexa listened intently, fascinated and disgruntled by this culture her soulmate was raised in. "Your people sent you and your group to return to Earth, to expand your population so they wouldn't have to resort to these laws, I assume?"
Clarke smirked uncomfortably, wanting to answer yes, but knew it would have to reveal her criminal status, and that was something she wasn't ready to disclose. Not yet, at least. She just didn't want her soulmate to judge or reject her. "I think it's my turn to ask a question," she said instead. Lexa stiffened, accepting the subject change for something to ask about later, as a bit of suspicion grew in her stomach.
"Do you remember our first message?" Clarke asked nostalgically, looking up at the starry night sky, wondering if she could see the Ark from here.
"Of course," Lexa said quickly, not needing any time to think back. "I thought I was going to die that day."
Clarke's head snapped away from the sky to stare at Lexa, puzzled, waiting for an explanation.
"In my culture," Lexa began to explain," We pick our leaders through a combat of eligibility. I was among a group suitable to compete in the Conclave after our previous Commander died trying to fight the Mountain. I had sent messages to you ever since I turned sixteen. Now that I know you were too young at the time to receive them, I know why you never responded. I drew our sacred symbol, associated with our Commanders, hoping that you would recognize it and what it meant. I thought you were one of my people, as I'm sure you thought I was one of yours. I wanted to reach out to you one more time, just in case I was to die at the Conclave, and you did- when I needed you most, you were old enough and responded immediately. It meant so much to me. It was all I needed to peacefully pass onto the next life."
Clarke's eyes were wide throughout the whole story, thinking back on the day she received the infinity symbol, and what she was doing that day. To think that while she was stressing about an interview, her soulmate was afraid they were about to die. While she starred at the drawing consumed by bliss, her soulmate was full of fear. That was absolutely not what she thought had happened. She couldn't even imagine what it would have been like if Lexa had died after sending the infinity!
"I had no idea," Clarke stammered.
"You wouldn't have," Lexa smiled, looking back at Clarke's hands. "But I never anticipated that my soulmate would fall from the sky, so I guess we're even in terms of being clueless about each other in the past. Since it's my question now, what are these bracelets you all wear? I've noticed your entire party wears identical ones."
"They're vital trackers," Clarke said easily, holding up her wrist so that Lexa could see it better. "It reports my heartbeat and a few other cardiovascular information to the Ark. This is how my people will see that we are surviving."
Lexa absent-mindedly reached up to touch the silver bracelet, feeling how smoothly crafted it was. Clarke watched Lexa gently run her hands across the band, no doubt imagining its capabilities. Catching a glimpse of Clarke watching her, Lexa immediately recognized what she was doing and pulled her hand away from her soulmate's wrists.
"It's okay," Clarke coaxed, "You can touch me." As she said this, Clarke was well aware that her own hand was delicately linking her fingers with Lexa's. The Commander didn't stop her, so Clarke figured she could keep cautiously caressing her. It is phenomenal how the most gentle of touches provide such ecstasy to new lovers, and this was the case for Clarke and Lexa, feeling absolutely electrified by the grazing of their fingertips. Lexa's line of sight dropped to Clarke's naturally rosy thin lips, feeling a strong magnetic draw.
With a great feat of strength, Lexa resisted and pulled away from her lover. "I must return to the camp," she said, clearing her throat. Clarke's soul plummeted inside her. She too had felt the pull of desire, the universe urging them to surrender to the start of physical seduction. However, she respected Lexa's retreat, knowing that it was more important to wait for them both to be ready. She watched Lexa stand up and walk a few feet away from the boulder. Lexa stopped in her tracks abrupty. She was thinking.
After a few more seconds, Lexa turned on her heels to reface Clarke, who was still seated. "If you would like, Clarke," she started, resuming her natural Heda façade, "I can show you around the area one day? Since you informed me that you are an admirer of art, there is an old museum great miles away that holds the masterpieces of the Old World. I'm sure that would… inspire your passion for the craft."
Clarke smiled and removed herself from the boulder, making her way towards Lexa. "I would love to accompany you there," she said, content with the promise of another private moment together. Lexa nodded, pleased with herself for interesting Clarke.
"We should probably leave separately," Lexa said. Clarke nodded in agreement and watched her soulmate walk away. Clarke couldn't wait for the Grounders to get used to her people. A part of her was disheartened by the duty Lexa had to her people that was separating her from nurturing her soul bond, but she knew that she had imbued herself with the same responsibility to her own. It was up to her and the rest of her camp to make way for the remaining Ark. An entire population rested in her hands.
Sighing, after figuring enough time had passed between Lexa departing, she began to make her way through the woods too, thinking about her future quality time with Lexa. She wondered if sculptures would be at this museum too, and if all mediums or art would be found there. She had seen many photographs of paintings in her text books, but she knew nothing would compare to the awe of seeing some masterpieces in person.
"What was that?" asked a deep voice, startling Clarke from her reverie. She realized that she had finally made it back to the outskirts of the camp, and was greeted by Bellamy. His face seemed more earnest than the "charismatic" dictatorial persona he had been masquerading with these past couple of days.
"What was what?" Clarke asked, pretending to not understand the context of his question.
"Were you in the woods with Commander Lexa?" he rephrased, keeping his tone the same.
"… No," Clarke attempted to lie.
"I saw her leave from this same location not more than ten minutes ago. Were you in the woods with her? Yes or no?"
"Yes," Clarke confessed, sensing herself becoming defensive.
"Were you making another agreement without the presence of our people?"
"Bellamy, it's none of your business."
"Yes it is," he said, taking a step towards her, and gripping her arm. Clarke twisted herself free and began to walk briskly away from him. "Clarke!"
"We were just talking, Bellamy," Clarke grumbled.
"About what? What could you be talking about that you had to do it completely isolated from everyone else?" Bellamy dragged his feet after her, and reached for her arm again, successfully pulling her back. This time she couldn't break from his grip, and her forearm was exposed, reading: meet me in half a mile north of the dropship.
Bellamy released her arm with a throw after he had read the words.
"Makes sense now," he sighed exasperatedly. "So the Commander's your soulmate…"
"You can't tell anyone, Bellamy, she thinks her people will see all this as favoritism and possibly rebel against her and us." Clarke began to plead.
"Well it is favoritism," he said bluntly.
"You can't tell anyone," Clarke repeated. Bellamy's face scrunched, like he was struggling with an internal debate. "Keeping it a secret keeps our people safe," Clarke tried.
"We'll discuss this in the morning, Clarke," Bellamy said suddenly. "We can use this to our advantage, whether you like it or not."
"What are you talking about?" Clarke was dumbfounded, wondering just how much more they could benefit from the Grounders outside of what Lexa had already freely offered.
"In the morning," he repeated. With that, he turned around and began to jog back to the main camp, leaving Clarke with an uneasy feeling stirring in her stomach.