Chapter 3
Blood of my Blood
Clarke was in the courtyard, watching with her mother all the progress Aden had made with a sword. Since Lexa was feeling better by the day and had never listened to her advice on staying in bed for more than an hour, she'd stopped monitoring the brunette all the time. Which was for the best, considering that she couldn't be near the Princess without feeling like a fire had ignited in her chest. She blamed Lexa through and through. She was the reason Clarke was feeling so weird, to begin with.
Aden was fighting against Bellamy, who was at least twice his size but made up for it by going easy on the boy. The ten-year-old was fighting his older sibling with all he had, visibly trying to remember his lessons with each motion of his sword. Octavia was standing on the side, trying to look impressed. She'd done nothing but train ever since Lexa had arrived, but she'd yet to approach the Princess and ask for a dual.
Her mind wandered back to Lexa once again, and she cursed herself for it. She wondered how good of a fighter she really was. Had the rumors been true? She'd heard all sorts of things recently, mostly from Octavia herself. How she'd first learn how to hold a sword when she was three. How at age six she was already better than most Westerosi knights. That famous dual against Brienne of Tarth came back a few times. Octavia also seemed to believe the Princess' blood was magical, that was how she managed to recuperate so quickly. Whether it was true or not, Clarke couldn't help but be impressed when, nearly a fortnight after her injury, Lexa was walking around Clegane's Keep with barely a limp in her steps.
Clarke managed to focus once again on the fight when the sound of clashing steel became almost deafening. Aden had put all his strength in his last swing and had pushed Bellamy's sword out of his hand. The dark-haired man had either not anticipated so much strength coming from his younger brother, or had done it on purpose. By the look on his face, the former was probably the truth, although anyone who asked would have to take the latter version as truth. As the training sword clattered on the ground, Octavia and Abigail began to clap. Clarke quickly followed, but nearly stopped when she heard another clap join theirs.
Lexa was standing on the first landing of the stairs, looking down on the fighting ground. She stopped clapping and walked down, joining them there. Everyone seemed either slightly confused about the Princess' presence as if they'd forgotten she had been in the Keep for more than two weeks now. Lexa came to stand beside the two boys and smiled down at Aden.
"You're a very talented fighter, Lord Aden. You might make a great knight someday."
The lack of irony or condescending tone in her voice seemed to surprise the boy, who took a few seconds before he smiled and replied:
"Thank you, Your Grace."
She nodded, still looking at him, then looked up at Bellamy.
"I must admit I haven't used a training sword in quite some time, but it should do. How about a dual, Lord Bellamy? I could use some training."
Bellamy was both very surprised and unsure for a good minute, his eyes darting between Lexa, Octavia, Clarke, Abigail, and finally returning to Lexa.
"I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I don't believe I would be a very good match against you. If you'd like, Octavia is a much better fighter than me."
She didn't question him, only looked over at Octavia who's excitement had suddenly been replaced by a nervous fright. Clarke could almost see her hand shaking on her handle of her sword.
"So, what do you say? Are you as good a fighter as your brother tells me?"
Clarke could see the determination shining in Octavia's eyes as she moved to stand closer to Lexa. Bellamy gave a meaningful look to Aden and they both walked away, coming to stand near Clarke and Abigail. Octavia began to play with her sword, making it turn in her hand to warm up her wrist.
"I'm better, actually."
Lexa picked up Bellamy's training sword, left on the ground, and smirked:
"Then show me."
Clarke had seen Octavia fight many times. The fact that she was usually smaller and looked weaker than her opponent had never stopped her, not once. But Clarke also realized something. They were about the same size, Lexa barely a few inches taller, and they looked to be the same strength, though Clarke guessed Lexa must have been stronger. Octavia was not used to fighting that kind of opponents.
Still, Octavia struck first, raising her sword high and hitting down on Lexa. The Princess stepped aside, and Octavia's blade struck the sandy ground with a puff of dust. Clarke had barely seen her move, but a quick glance at her face told her what she needed to know. Lexa was paying the cost of her speed and agility, and the fact that her teeth were clenched had nothing to do with her focus, but rather with the pain probably raking her body. Still, she attacked.
She swept her sword on Octavia's side and the other girl barely had time to parry, the blow forcing her to take a step back. Lexa attacked again, her sword dancing from one side of her opponent to the next. Octavia tried her best, but when she felt the cold iron of the blade against her hipbone she knew she'd lost. Lexa stepped back, bringing the sword behind her back.
"Please, don't hold your strength on my account."
Octavia only glared at her and prepared herself. Once again, she attacked first, with a horizontal strike this time. Lexa avoided it easily, her sword still behind her. Clarke watched, fascinated. Lexa was swift and nimble, untouchable like the wind. She avoided every strike with grace, and there was an inner strength shining through every small jab she took at her enemy. Truly, Lexa was dancing, there was no other way to put it. Dancing around Octavia with a practiced ease, like she'd done it many times before. Octavia was visibly becoming more and more frustrated, her blade never once grazing Lexa. It came close, once or twice, and once or twice Lexa had to parry a blow rather than side-step it, but Clarke guessed it had more to do with her injury than with Octavia finally getting the better of her.
Octavia's blows became more erratic, less controlled. She grunted with every strike she threw her opponent's way. She had barely moved since their fight had begun, turning to follow Lexa around her but never taking more than a step away from her initial position. Truly, Lexa had her in her claws and there was nothing Octavia could do to get out of them.
After Lexa avoided a particularly strong attack which let Octavia completely open, Lexa struck her side with the flat of her sword. Nothing too harmful, but enough to anger Octavia even more. She attempted another attack, and this time Lexa parried it. With a twist of her blade, she disarmed Octavia, her sword falling to the ground. Clarke could see the desperation in her sister's eyes, saw her ready to plug for the weapon if Lexa's blade hadn't come to rest near her throat.
Clarke then realized how silent the courtyard had fallen, like everyone near the training ground had stopped to watch the dual, and they were all still stunned to see the Heir to the Iron Throne besting the Keep's best sword-fighter with ease, while she was recuperating from a leg injury no less. Clarke stared longly at Lexa. She wasn't smug about her victory. She was tired, like Octavia, but she was better at hiding it. She let her sword down as her chest fell, taking deep, leveled breath while Octavia was panting like a mad dog after a hunt. While Octavia was still hunched over, taking in as much air as she could, Lexa glanced at her Clarke. Their eyes met, and Lexa smiled. Clarke had a strange thought then, something which seemed unlikely to the highest level. Had Lexa done all of this just to impress her?
Finally, when Octavia seemed to be feeling a bit better, Lexa walked up to her.
"You're a very good fighter, Octavia. You're only problem is you've been trained by Westerosi knights."
Octavia looked up, confused. She could easily guess by the way the Princess moved that she'd received a very particular kind of training.
"If your ambitions are such, I could recommend you to a great fighter, in Winterfell. She could teach you how to fight, really fight. And who knows, perhaps one day we'll meet again, and this time I'll be the one bested."
She glanced one last time at Clarke. Her words had not been quiet by any means, and Clarke could already see their effects on Octavia. She was suddenly standing straighter, prouder like she hadn't just lost a dual against the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. Lexa let the sword she was still holding on the ground and walked away, her gaze only leaving Clarke when she was out of her sight.
Later that day, Clarke found herself wandering the garden once again. She could see the end of a green and bronze wing if she looked up toward the west. Lexa was with her brother, and so Clarke had taken it as an excuse to run and hide. News of the Unsullied's return had spread through the Castle as good news. It meant the bandits roaming the Westerlands were no more. But to Clarke, it meant Lexa would soon return to King's Landing, and she didn't know what to feel about it. Which was the reason why she had been roaming the garden, to try and make sense of everything. The way her heart fluttered every time Lexa was near. The way her stomach flipped upside down whenever their hands grazed each other. Her hands became sweaty just thinking about it.
Of course, she wasn't blind. She may have never felt those feelings before, but she knew what they meant. Trouble. Falling for the heir to the Iron Throne, a woman no less, when she was a bastard from the Stormlands could mean nothing but trouble. Her mind was telling her to stay away from the brunette because it was the only way to get over this silly affection. Her heart, however, was screaming at her how she could never be away from the Princess again, not without losing herself too. It was terrifying. The swiftness with which she'd fallen, and the fact that there seemed to be no coming back from it. It was an abyss with no end in sight, and nothing but Lexa to keep her from breaking apart.
She needed to talk to someone about it, she knew, but who? Lexa was completely out of the question. She was at least fifty percent sure the brunette felt the same way as she did. If she was right, it only meant more trouble for the both of them. And if she was wrong, well, she didn't dare to even imagine that situation. Her mother? It would be a catastrophe. She could only imagine the worsts of scenarios because there probably wasn't a best case this time. Her mother was a logical person. The few times she'd thought with her heart had led to, well, her birth. She would tell her to stay away. Actually, the more she thought about it the more the voice in her head did begin to sound like her mom.
Bellamy and Aden were off the list instantly. Kane was never even considered. Which left her with only one person whom she could talk to, and it would have never been her first choice if it wasn't the only one. Not that Octavia wasn't a good listener, but she was an even better gossiper. She could keep a secret but the cost was high. But who knew? Maybe she would feel inclined to help now that she'd gotten what she wanted.
She left the garden in search of her sister. Octavia was not on the training ground, as she would have expected. She was not in her room either, which was a problem. Nowhere near the blacksmith or the armory, or in the kitchens, or in the kennel where she liked to hang out. She did found Bellamy taking care of his most trusted hound, probably preparing him for a hunt. Bellamy told her he had seen Octavia going to their father's office.
Clarke hurried there, knowing Octavia would probably not stay in the same place for long, and arrived just in time to see her sister walking out of the room, a big satisfied smile on her lips.
"Octavia!" she called her.
The younger girl looked over at her and her smiled widened.
"Clarke! You won't believe what just happened!"
Clarke quickly walked up to her and declared:
"I need to speak with you too."
Octavia followed her, though she didn't seem to have heard what Clarke had said. Instead, she began to happily explain:
"Father says he'll speak with the Princess, but he's okay for me to go to Winterfell! I'm going to become a master swordswoman and then I'll be knighted and join the Queensgard!"
Clarke tried not to think too much about what Octavia had told her, because it meant Octavia would leave and she wouldn't have anyone to speak to anymore, not about the important things anyway.
Soon enough they reached Clarke's room and she pulled Octavia inside, closing the door carefully behind them. Octavia seemed confused as she looked back at Clarke, who's nervousness had grown tenfolds since she'd found the younger girl.
"Promise me you will not repeat what I'm about to tell you."
Octavia crossed her arms.
"What, is it serious? Did the Princess kiss you or something?"
Clarke was shocked, but she felt her cheeks grow red. So she wasn't the only to think Lexa was trying to woo her? The blonde's reaction told Octavia everything she needed to know. She held in a laughter by placing a hand on her mouth.
"Seven Hells, she did!"
"What, no! I haven't seen her since she kicked your ass!"
Octavia gasped.
"She hasn't kissed you, but you wish she had!"
Clarke shushed her quickly.
"Not so loud, please!"
Octavia couldn't help but giggle.
"Oh, you so wish she had!" she whisper-shouted.
Clarke could feel her entire face growing red.
"What if I have?"
"You need to tell her! Father says he'll organize a feast in two days before she leaves. You need to tell her."
"I can't! What if she rejects me, or worst, what if she feels the same?"
Octavia shook her head. Her sister really was daft sometimes.
"She won't. It's very obvious she wants you in her bed. Also, can you imagine? The Princess and heir to the Iron Throne with a bastard girl? That'll be a story for the ages!"
"Well I'm glad you find it amusing, but I don't. At all."
Octavia took a deep breath and placed a hand on Clarke's shoulder.
"But seriously, tell her, before she leaves, because then it would be too late and I don't want to see you spend the rest of your life regretting you stayed silent."
