"Where are we going?" Clarke asked, following the Commander as they left the tent and walked in the opposite direction of the bathing pool.
"You'll see." She replied, setting a brisk pace.
"Ok, great, I'll see, but would you mind slowing down a little? Or a lot? Sprained ankle, hello?" Clarke called after her, already falling far behind the warrior.
She stopped walking, allowing Clarke to catch up. "My apologies. I had forgotten that you are injured. It won't happen again." She promised as she came along side her.
"Don't worry about it." Clarke gasped, stopping beside the Commander to rub her ankle. An arm wrapped itself around her waist, supporting her. She glanced up at the Commander, but was not able to meet her eyes as the woman was looking ahead.
As though she could feel Clarke's gaze, the woman tightened her hold on Clarke's waist. "Lean on me. It's not far."
Clarke hesitated. She could use the help, but the contact felt incredible. It seemed like it had been so long since she had been touched-touched, and not the one touching-that it made her want for more.
The Commander tilted her head closer. "Trust me."
The whispered breath sent a delicious shiver down Clarke's spine. Oh boy. She gulped silently, trying not to let her reactions to such little things show. She nodded, sliding an arm around the Commanders shoulders. She focused on the walk, on every step, the fires, the warriors, anything but the woman she leaned on and the warmth it was making her feel. Or she tried to. The Commanders voice starting a conversation made her, and consequently Clarke's reactions to her, impossible to ignore.
"You have lost much, Clarke, yet your actions prove that the you you wish to remember is still very much there. She hides, like a wounded animal, but she is still alive and well within you. The children would have died otherwise."
The breath caught in Clarke's throat. She stumbled, falling into the Commander who raised her other hand to help steady her. Clarke looked up at her. "What?"
The Commander smiled without smiling. If Clarke had been any farther away than she was she would not have noticed it, the Commanders face was as stoic as it always was. Yet the smile was still there, in the subtle way her face relaxed, in the warmth of her eyes. "Even in the prison, I saw her. She was there when you wielded my blade to get the one you call Jaha to back away. She was there when you spoke to me as an equal, though you thought me to be a slave. She was there when you attempted to take your life and she was there again when you spoke to the children. She's still there Clarke. You just need to stop thinking for long enough to be her."
She helped Clarke straighten and motioned for her to start walking again.
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Clarke was stunned. She hadn't thought about it like that. She was soaked in blood, drowning in it almost. The idea that a part of her had survived all of that and still remained pure was laughable. It's impossible. Those carefree days are long gone, taking her with them. After what I've done, who I've been, there's no coming back from that. She's wrong. That isn't who I am. Not anymore. But still, beneath the thoughts, a treacherous seed had taken root. Hope.
They stopped at a structure made of wooden beams and canvas walls. A large brass bell hung from one of the beams by what Clarke assumed to be an entrance. The Commander reached up and rang the bell one, three, then one time again. She waited a moment, then pulled a canvas flap aside and motioned for Clarke to step in. Clarke gasped as she entered the room. Wooden beams where spaced evenly throughout the tent, supporting the canvas overhead. Logs on wooden legs stood in two rows. Tied to each log facing eachother along the rows, were horses.
The Commanders arm returned to her waist. "Would you care to meet them?"
Clarke nodded mutely.
They walked along the aisle, slowly going down both sides. Clarke looked at the horses in awe. She had seen horses before, but not like this. Not without a rider striking fear in her heart. Not without the armour designed to intimidate. She stopped at one particular horse that had caught her eye. The chestnut mare was covered in scars, thin lines criss crossing over her flank. She reached out her hand and tentatively caressed her muzzle, stroking with more confidence when she didn't pull away.
"What happened to her?"
The Commander observed the girl, studying her body language as she interacted with the horse. "She was beaten by her trainer."
Clarke hissed, clenching her hand in a fist. "What happened to the trainer?"
Unseen by Clarke, the Commander smiled in remembered bloodlust. "Her fight is over."
"Good." Clarke said, satisfied.
The Commander reached out beside the girl to run her hand over the muzzle. "Would you like to ride her?"
Clarke froze. She wanted to, yes, more than anything at that moment. But... "I don't know how." She confessed.
"Then you will ride with me. She is strong, she can carry two with little strain." The Commander decided. She untied the horse and brought her round to stand in the aisle, then retied her to her post. She then walked over to the pillar closest to the horse and returned with a bucket which she put down next to Clarke. "As you are injured, I will pick her hooves myself. Then you will help me groom her."
Clarke started to point out that she didn't know how to do that either, but a Look silenced her. She watched as the Commander reached into the bucket and removed something that looked like a very small ice pick that she had seen people use in movies.
"This is a pick, we use it to clear any debris from the horses hoofs." She paused at Clarke's questioning look. "Their feet." She clarified.
Clarke watched eagerly, fascinated as the Commander stood close to the beast and ran a hand down her leg. She squeezed the fetlock and the horse obediently lifted her leg, allowing her to clean out the hoof. She repeated this with the three remaining hoofs then returned to Clarke. She dropped the pick in the bucket and removed two... Weird, circular, wooden things. She held one of the things out to Clarke.
"This is a curry comb. We use it to free mud, loose hair, and other stuff from the rest of the hair. Use it like this..."
And so they continued, the Commander teaching and Clarke following her instructions. Clarke felt herself relax, the steady brush strokes on warm horseflesh lulling her into a trance. Her mind quieted, leaving her more at peace than she'd been since before she stumbled upon her father's secret. When the coat was clean, the Commander brought over a fur lined saddle pad and bridle. She hung the bridle on a hook and lay the saddle upon the horses back.
"This will be more comfortable for riding double." She explained, tightening the girth round the horses belly. She then removed the harness, putting the bridle in its place. She turned to Clarke. "Are you ready?"
Clarke looked up at the horse. Way up. Suddenly she felt that maybe, this wasn't such a good idea. "Um... She's kinda... Up."
The Commander tilted her head. "She's only eighteen hands. Granted, the children and elderly have smaller, but she is hardly big for a warhorse."
Clarke looked up at the horses back. At five foot four, she felt like a child next to the beast. She took a steady breath and reached up as she had seen the people in the movies do, grabbing the front and back of the fur saddle. She started to pull herself up and almost immediately stopped, hissing as her shoulder reminded her that unlike in the movies, injuries do not disappear in minutes. She released the saddle, cradling her arm.
The Commander was by her side in a moment. "Forgive me, I had forgotten about your shoulder. Do you think you could make it if I helped you?"
Clarke considered this for a moment. "Maybe, but how?"
"Here." The Commander bent her knees and cupped her hands. "Hang on to the saddle. You steer, and I will lift you up."
Clarke bit her lip, suddenly feeling very shy. "Are you sure? Won't your hands get dirty?"
The Commander raised an eyebrow. "I would hardly be the Commander if I were afraid of a little dirt."
That decided her. Ignoring the twinge from her shoulder she turned and again reached for the saddle. Shyness temporarily forgotten, she placed her foot in the Commanders hands and closed her eyes as she was lifted up, and up... She managed to get her bum in the saddle this time and opened her eyes. She blinked. "Where did her head go?"
She heard a snicker, which was then cut off by a snort. She looked down to see the usually stoic Commander bent double, both hands covering her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. What, did I split my pants or something? The horse beneath her whinnied and she wrinkled her brow in confusion. It was crazy, but for a moment she could have sworn that the sound had come from behind her. What the...? She turned around to look. "...oh."
There was the head, looking back at her. The horse whinnied again. Great, now even the horse is laughing at me.
The Commander got herself back under control, though her twinkling eyes betrayed her amusement. "Hey, look on the bright side. At least you're on the horse."
"Not helping." Clarke replied with a glare. She swung her leg over and tried to turn herself around, but she overcompensated for the smooth fur beneath her. She emitted an undignified squawk as she felt herself falling from the saddle.
The Commander caught her, breaking her fall, a quiet 'oof' leaving her lips as she landed on the packed earth with the girl on top of her. They made eye contact, then both of them burst into giggles, muffling the sound in each other's shoulders. They clung to eachother, laughter shaking their frames as the horse waited patiently for her riders. The Commander regained her composure first. She waited, stroking the hair on the sky girls head as she held her, a small almost smile on her lips.
Eventually Clarke regained control. She looked up at the Commander, eyes still shining, and caught her breath at the tender look in the Commanders eyes.
The Commander caressed her cheek, Clarke instinctively leaning into the caress as the woman spoke in that ever soft voice used only for her. "See? There you are."
No, she's wrong. Clarke pulled back, merriment forgotten as her walls snapped back up. She awkwardly clambered back to her feet, reaching down with her good arm to offer assistance to the Commander.
The woman sighed quietly, accepting the hand to allow herself to be pulled to her feet. "Are you ready to try again?"
Clarke's eyes widened. "Are you nuts?"
"Get knocked down, get back up. It is our way, Clarke. Try again." The tenderness was gone, replaced by her usual stoic mask.
"Commander, I don't think..."
"Lexa."
"What?"
"My name, is Lexa. When we are infront of the others Commander will do. But when it is just you and I, I would prefer it if you use my given name."
Lexa. Clarke thought, feeling out the name. "Alright, Lexa. I still don't think that this is a good idea."
Lexa smirked. "Get knocked down, get back up. Now try again."
Clarke rolled her eyes, turning to do as Lexa said. As she grasped the saddle and was lifted up she couldn't help but wonder if Lexa wasn't only talking about the horse.