Impossible Closeness
Lexa
Lexa dismissed all guards from the Commanders Chambers and took advantage of the one brief moment she knew she'd have to herself to reflect upon what had just happened. Clarke had come to the plate entirely. She'd desperately hoped she would, but was worried she wouldn't. The look in Clarke's eyes earlier that afternoon was fierce, so fierce that it reminded her of how Wanheda lived and thrived inside of the curvaceous goddess. Surely, Wanheda wanted revenge, Lexa understood this; Heda wanted the same.
The relief Lexa felt when Clarke broke through and reinforced her Blood Must NOT Always Have Blood policy to the entire Coalition was immeasurable. She was prepared to give one speech, but hoped and prayed she could give another.
Shaking her head from side to side was becoming a common gesture for Lexa these days. It was what she did every time she felt confused over Clarke's actions, decisions, requests, glances and body language.
Lexa thought back to the morning she'd shared with the blonde haired blue-eyed beauty. She loved the way they had simply sat together and did so with such incredible comfort. It was absolutely exquisite to read for pleasure in her company and not feel obligated to talk over politics or battle strategies. It felt so nice to just be. Then the dream came and turned her inside out.
There was no mistaking the comfort she felt when Clarke rushed to her side. She could still hear her words and the soft assuredness that rang within them, "It's okay. You're okay," but then the sensation of Clarke's tender touch took over. She couldn't have it. It was an impossible closeness that she simply couldn't allow for one second more. Clarke's hand on her thigh and the heat emitting from it led to absolute confusion. A confusion she couldn't stay with; an impossible touch; an unbearable closeness, so she acted fast, sat back and moved just far enough away that Clarke would remove her hand from her thigh, but not so far back that their conversation would end.
With the touch gone, Clarke's words of reassurance held power. They could enter Lexa's mind directly rather than having to be filtered through sensations that consumed her body and poked at a desire she'd promised herself to hold at bay until Clarke indicated she was ready. She knew she'd tried too soon; the night after the battle, but Clarke's proclamation, "This is not just about my people!" raced through her psyche conjuring an elixir of encouragement. Needless to say, her initiation for deeper intimacy failed and left her feeling more vulnerable than she was comfortable being.
Again, Lexa shook her head. Here she was, as she had been so many times before, consumed with thoughts of Clarke. She allowed herself one more and recalled the moment after the nightmare and how powerfully and sensually assertive Clarke was, the thought of which made her shudder. All Clarke had to say was "Listen to me," and Lexa's entire essence obeyed. She took in every word Clarke said and knew she was right. She did not allow herself to linger in Clarke's longing glance for very long after, however. Their long tender wordless eye conversations were becoming as impossible as the occasional touch. She pulled free from Clarke's gaze by retrieving her book, but was allowed only one second of freedom before her eyes fell upon Clark's drawing. It was an image so beautiful and so profound it provided incredible information; information that needed no explanation. Lexa knew in her bones that Clarke saw her the way she drew her, strong, sensual, powerful and beautiful.
Sighing loudly Lexa walked to her balcony. Clarke would need to tell her when she was ready. She could not continue on like this. She forced her attention to Titus. She needed to prepare herself for a conversation she was about to have with him. His constant questioning of her ability to lead and her feelings for Clarke were above and beyond his position of power. Apparently she needed to remind him of this fact.
Clarke
Clarke left the Commanders chambers with everyone else. She didn't want to go with the herd and watch Emerson loaded into transport; she wanted to stay back with Lexa, but Titus's eyes were upon her, so she left. It wouldn't hurt to have some time alone to reflect, she told herself. So much had happened that day.
Leaving the pack, she started back to her room then suddenly remembered Titus's earlier visit. She felt violated by his decision to enter without permission. He came to talk of peace, but he should never have taken such liberties, then again, he's the Commanders Adviser and Clarke was a guest in her home, so he quite possibly felt he was within his rights. Still, she didn't like it. She would discuss with Lexa when she had the chance.
Fortunately, Clarke had more than one place to go. Instead of taking the hallway to her room, she walked through the main corridor and went to a landing she'd found a few days earlier. It had a public access where she could see anyone coming from either direction. It also had a gigantic iron decal she could shimmy up to a higher landing from which she could see Lexa's private quarters. It required her to sit on the very outer edge and lean back in a precarious way, but she didn't mind one single bit.
Once settled, Clarke watched Lexa's room for signs of movement. No candles were lit. She decided to stay awhile and clear her head of the day's events. She looked out at the night sky and went over everything. The impossible conversation with Wanheda about revenge and the way she echoed everything Clarke had overheard Titus warn Lexa about, how her judgment was impaired by their connection and how she was "too personally involved," to make sound decisions. Clarke ran her fingers over her forehead in attempt to massage away tension. Wanheda and Titus were on the same page. Now that was something.
Clarke didn't second-guess her decision, however. It wasn't easy to make, but she knew she made the right choice. She backed Lexa just like Lexa backed her. Her decision reinforced their allegiance. And now, just like Lexa, she had new and unknown enemies within the Coalition, enemies who were yet to accept nonviolence as an option. But, what was she to do? She couldn't betray Lexa, she just couldn't. She needed Lexa on her side and betraying her was a sure fire way of losing allegiance. Well, that wasn't entirely true, Clarke had come to believe that Lexa meant every word of her fealty vow and would keep it, even if she murdered Emerson with 49 cuts from her very own blade. Thankfully, she really did come to understand that killing Emerson wouldn't have brought her peace. Titus reminded her of this this, but it was Lexa who taught her. The lesson came that morning after the bombing when Lexa helped her kill the spotter. She knew it wouldn't make Clarke feel better, but she helped her find out for herself.
A flicker of light caught Clarke's eye. There was movement inside Lexa's private quarters. She sighed slowly. She knew she was stalking and shouldn't be. It actually bothered her that she was, but she wanted more of Lexa and this was the safest way to satiate her need, even if it did feed her hunger at the same time.
As Clarke waited for the light to grow bright enough to provide a glimpse of Lexa's silhouette, she thought about their last intimate moments together. She'd tried not to let on, but it bothered her that Lexa moved away from her touch so quickly. She had done the exact same thing when Lexa tried to help her up after Emerson attacked her. The only difference was she understood her own reason for moving away quickly, but not Lexa's. Clarke had pulled away because she didn't want Lexa, Titus, or anyone else for that matter to see her as weak. Lexa wouldn't have had this reason. They were alone and they had privacy. So why did she pull away? Clarke needed an answer. The not knowing haunted her. She tried and tried to let it go and told herself over and over that Lexa was just upset, that's all, but intuitively she knew there was more.
Clarke tried not to dwell on the missed opportunity of the morning as well. Titus had come in at the most inappropriate of times. She wasn't sure if she would have shown Lexa her drawing, but given the fact that Lexa had seen it, she wanted to offer something more than a look that could be interpreted any number of ways. But, could she bring herself to Lexa's door and reopen the conversation? Was she ready?
A part of Clarke desperately longed for more intimacy as well as Lexa's touch, but she didn't know if she was ready to give herself and her body in such a vulnerable way. Lexa undoubtedly had a power over her, one like no one ever had before. No one. Once they go there, truly go there, and Clarke offered the last part of herself she had been consciously holding close, there would be no going back. It was one thing to give pleasure to Lexa and it would be another entirely to allow Lexa to have unrestricted intimate access to her mind, body, spirit, and heart.
Light inside Lexa's room grew brighter. Clarke saw a lithe frame moving gracefully about. A hunger grew so strong within her she jumped to her feet. She was halted only by a voice inside her head that warned, "Be careful!" She closed her eyes slowly, sat back down, and thought about how earlier that day she was taken aback by Lexa thinking the ghost of the Commanders before her had spoke to her in a dream yet here she was about to have a mindful conversation about vulnerability with the imaginary, but legendary Queen of Death.