This is exists because I am actively ignoring that Thirteen ever happened.
She's been awake for hours, but she's not going to tell Lexa that. If the commander asks, she'll say it was the bright morning sun shining through the windows that did it. She'll say it was faint noise from the floors below, something that won't make her sound pathetic.
In actual fact, Clarke has been awake, lying peacefully by her girlfriend's side, watching her sleep for hours. She doesn't mean to be creepy, but she loves seeing Lexa like this—soft and at peace, rather than almost constantly guarded. Her eyes trace Lexa's form, mapping the commander's every feature.
Last night was the first time in weeks they'd seen each other. Clarke had just gotten back from elections in Arkadia, bearing good news- the people had ousted Pike, and hopefully things would remain quiet and peaceful for a while. When she tried to describe her feelings for Lexa to her friends, she fell short. How could every word that came out of her mouth be such a cliche when her feelings for her girlfriend were unlike anything she had ever experienced before? What she held in her heart was wholly unique, a type of love and admiration so rare that regular people struggle to comprehend it in the slightest. Lexa doesn't make Clarke feel complete, no, Lexa makes her feel like there's even more of her to discover, that her potential is limitless, that her mind is infinite.
Lexa makes Clarke's life feel boundless.
Lexa continues to sleep, and Clarke doesn't blame her; they had spent most of their night holding each other close once again, the pleasure amplified by the weeks of absence.
Clarke smiles to herself as Lexa begins to stir.
"Morning," she whispers, tracing soft circles on her girlfriend's arm.
"Good morning, my love," Lexa replies in Trigedasleng, knowing the effect the language has on Clarke. "These last weeks without you have been the strangest torture I have ever endured."
Despite the power she holds, and the fierce loyalty of her subjects, Lexa never feels as safe as she does by Clarke's side. Her actions, her thoughts- everything meaningful in life- it's all tied to the blonde girl who fell from the sky and straight into Lexa's heart. She had spent the last three weeks moping about the halls of the palace, her mind refusing to focus on anything but the ache she felt in the pit of her stomach when Clarke wasn't with her.
"So how did your mother receive the news of our courtship?" Lexa inquires. They hadn't had much of a chance to speak last night, instead spending the time rediscovering each other's bodies.
"About as well as we could've hoped for," Clarke replies, "she respects you. She's happy that I'm happy, and she insists she saw it coming the moment I moved to Polis."
"And your friends?"
"Raven's Raven. It's hard for her to forget the past, same as Jasper. Monty thinks it's hot. Octavia thinks you could do better."
"Octavia is a fool," Lexa mumbles, bringing Clarke's hand to her lips, softly grazing the blonde's palm.
"And what of Bellamy?"
"You asked after my friends. Bellamy stopped being my friend the moment he handcuffed me to a chair."
"You two have been through a lot together, and I know he means something to you," Lexa says. She used to be jealous of Bellamy and Clarke's undefined relationship- more than friendship, yet never anything official- but Clarke was her's now, and there was no reason Clarke should lose a friend.
"No, you mean something to me. He tried to turn me over to Pike."
"And I tried to kill you. Yet here we are."
Clarke sat up, an incredulous laugh escaping her.
"Why are you defending him?"
"Because we all do what we think is right in the moment, ain hodnes. And… as much as I detest Bellamy Blake, he is a good and passionate comrade." Clarke shakes her head. Lexa sighs.
"Forget I ever said anything, Clarke. Let's just focus on our reunion." She leans forward, ready to kiss her beloved, when the door is slammed open. Both girls groan when Titus hurries in.
"Titus this better be good," Clarke growls. She doesn't quite catch the panic etched on Titus's features.
"Commander, I am sorry, but I couldn't stop her."
Clarke does, however, see the panic that flickers in Lexa's eyes.
"She is here?"
"I managed to get a few of the guards distract her whilst I warned you." Lexa curses under her breath, jumping out of bed in an instant. She ties her hair in a rough bun, and searches for proper clothing.
"Lexa? What's happening? Who's coming? Are we in danger?" Clarke fires rapid questions, afraid of the danger that allegedly lurks nearby.
"We are both in danger, Clarke. I need to get you out of here," Lexa replies, pulling a shirt over her head. Before Clarke can respond, the door is thrown open again. The woman who enters is tall, and intimidatingly beautiful. Her head is shaved, and a haughty smile haunts her lips.
"Well this is certainly unexpected. Lexa, you never let your whores spend the night." Clarke knows she should be offended, but she's too scared of the unknown danger that stands before her. Lexa snarls at the woman, taking several steps forward, until her face is just inches from her foe.
"What do you think you're doing here?"
"Still doing your faux intimidation, I see." The woman takes a step around Lexa, coming even further into the room. She looks at her surroundings, taking in the lavish lifestyle of the commander.
"I asked you a question. You are not welcome here."
"Why, Lexi, that's no way to speak to a guest in your home," the woman teases. Lexa cringes at the godawful nickname.
"And this is no way for a guest to act, barging in and insulting those who live here."
"She lives here? How adorable. Lexi's in love."
"Never speak of Clarke again. And you will not call me Lexi. I am heda to you."
The woman barks a harsh laugh.
"Oh, of course. My apologies, heda." She sneers the title, mocking Lexa as she does so. "Clearly Wanheda here has conquered more than death, she's conquered Lexi's heart."
"I will not be mocked by you. You, you insult my guest, you show no respect for your commander. You dare even show your face to begin with? After what you did to me?" Clarke has never seen Lexa like this before, so personally hurt by a person's words. She was usually so calm and collected, not showing more emotion than was necessary. But this vile woman knew exactly how to push all the right buttons to get a response.
She struts back to Lexa, putting their faces mere inches from each other.
"Let's not forget that we both played a role in our past," the stranger says in an almost whisper, "I deserve your apology just as much as I deserve your forgiveness."
Lexa regards the woman for a moment, staring at her with critical eyes. She takes a step back, before putting her arm out to the stranger. The tall lady grasps Lexa's forearm in a tight embrace, as they stare each other down. Letting go, Lexa throws her arms around the woman's neck, hugging her tightly.
"You know," the stranger says, "blonde isn't really Lexa's type. But the intense eyes you've got, that's definitely her thing" There is no malice in her voice, no tension. Somehow, in one moment, the churning chaos dissipated, leaving Clarke even more confused than before. Lexa whirls around, as if she's forgotten that Clarke was in the room.
"Clarke, I'm terribly sorry for what you just witnessed," Lexa apologizes, "you shouldn't have had to see any of that."
"Would someone please just explain what is going on?" Clarke asks, exasperatedly.
"My apologies, Wanheda-"
"Call me Clarke," Clarke interjects.
"- Clarke, of course. I didn't mean to frighten, nor insult you, in any way. I just enjoyed riling up Lexi like I did."
"Daria, please don't call me that, you know I hate it," Lexa whines.
"No matter what fancy title you hold, you will always be Lexi to me," the woman laughs, winking at the commander.
Clarke just shakes her head.
"But I still don't know who you are," says the blonde.
"Of course! Sorry, it's been a long journey," the woman replies. She bows to Clarke, before offering her hand out to shake.
"I am Daria kom Trikru," she says, "and I am delighted to meet the woman who's fallen in love with my little sister."