I think at this point it's clear how it works but to avoid confusion...
Italic = Memories
Italic + Bold = Wanheda
Notes:
1. I edited the chapter to make a few things a bit more clearer... If you read this the first time around don't worry, nothing has been altered plot-wise.
2. Trigger warning: there is a scene that alludes to rape. If it's a trigger for you or if it simply makes you uncomfortable please skip it.
Stop reading here: [...] They taunted her as a cat would with a mouse before delivering death.
SKIP 3 PARAGRAPHS and then keep reading, start again here: Clarke would forever be grateful that [...]
"You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending." ―C. S. Lewis
For a fleeting moment, Clarke considered abandoning all of them to their fate, simply recruiting the ones willing to follow her and leave the camp. Her plan was fairly simple; they would head towards Polis, establish themselves close to the city borders and pray they would be allowed to remain there. At this point she was not above throwing herself at Lexa's feet, begging for mercy.
A completely different scenario filled her mind as her brain connected the words Lexa and begging in the same sentence. The memory still made her shiver in pleasure.
Lexa felt drunk with lust and desire, the intensity of which she'd never felt with anyone before.
Releasing the taut nipple with a light pop, she made her way down the blonde. She took her time, sliding onto her stomach and dropping light kisses to smooth thighs. She felt strong legs tighten impatiently around her; the brunet smirked, her eyes flicking up to connect with the pair above her. Blue eyes looked down at her, lust laced in her irises.
"Please Lexa" she stammered. She would have been embarrassed by her lack of self-control if she hadn't been so fucking turned on.
The brunet simply smiled, as her tongue continued to lap away at her thighs, resolutely avoiding what she wanted.
"Please what Clarke?" the teasing was almost unbearable now.
"I need it, please"
What do you need Clarke?. You'll have to tell me". A full smirk plastered on her face. Making someone as prideful and stubborn as Clarke Griffin beg for her attention was no small accomplishment in Lexa's eyes.
Clarke half groaned – half growled and her hand grabbed Lexa's hair, holding her in place.
"Your tongue, your fingers, anything, please Lexa"
The need in her voice was so raw Lexa couldn't tease her anymore. She expertly flicked her tongue out, barely touching her clit, dragging a booming moan from Clarke's lips.
She dragged her tongue back up, flicking the brunette's swollen clit. Hips bucked violently at the touch. Lexa grinned as she wrapped her lips around the bundle nerves, sucking hard at first and running her tongue over her clit as she did. Clarke was screaming now, bucking desperately against her lover, hands flying down to clutch brunet hair, anchoring her.
The commander, with gentleness unexpected from someone so fierce, clasped the frantic hips beneath her, pinning them to the mattress.
She ran her tongue up the folds, gathering her wetness and savoring the taste. The blonde's arousal was turning Lexa on even more with every passing second, she was almost at her breaking point and Clarke hadn't even touched her yet.
The brunette felt Clarke her shudder as she trusted her tongue within her folds, before returning to her clit, gently flicking it back and forth.
Lexa added her fingers, sliding first one, then two inside her, feeling the hot walls slide apart around them. She looked up to see Clarke's head thrown back and her eyes closed, her fingers playing with her stiff nipples, tugging and twisting them.
Heda smiled to herself, she wouldn't be long now. Clarke's tights instinctively tried to trap Lexa, encouraging her to hurry up the torturous pace. Increasingly loud moans reverberated through the empty room…
Wanheda interrupted her little fantasy, making her even more irritated than before. Now she was not only furious but sexually frustrated too, fucking awesome!. Could this day get any worse?.
If Wanheda could have laughed everyone in the camp would have heard her, a horny and sex-starved Clarke Griffin was quite a sight to behold. The blonde grumbled and cursed, a long string of profanities aimed at the spirit of Death, who simply reminded her that they had far more important things to discuss than the sexual prowess of a certain commander.
"Are you sure you can just walk away?"
"Yes, I feel like a failure"
"Failure is a bend in the road, not the end of it"
"You should know that talking like a cheap self-help book isn't really inspiring". She acknowledged she was acting like an obnoxious brat but in her defense, she was still quite flustered from her memories.
Clarke wasn't sure how but she felt that Wanheda was rolling her eyes at her. Could a spirit actually do that?. It was quite fascinating really, they shared one body yet they still were two separate entities. How did this partnership work exactly?.
"Why does it matter, my child?"
"I need to know. Since I came back you have been with me; guiding my steps, helping me to re-build myself. Why?" No matter how much she tried to appear confident she was still baffled by the idea of been chosen as a host for the spirit of Death.
"You don't understand, do you? The gift I gave you, I mean. I could crush you and everyone else around you like little bugs if I desire so, yet I chose to manifest myself through you".
"I didn't mean to upset you". She backtracked instantly; incurring Wanheda's wrath was definitely not in her plans.
What if she suddenly decided Clarke was not worthy of her attention anymore?.
What if she left?.
The last thought made her shudder in fear; she needed her, like she needed air to breath. She didn't covet her foresight or her wisdom; while undeniable that those were certainly useful perks what she really craved was the companionship and stability the spirit provided. Since she woke up in the Ark Wanheda had been her only constant, a light in the darkness that surrounded her, if she lost her she would be left adrift again.
"I sense your regret. Fear not, my child, I'm not that easily offended"
Wanheda laughed boisterously. Sharing her soul with a human was always an exhilarating experience, seeing the world through their eyes was simply fascinating. She had chosen hundreds of different souls to merge with yet, no matter how adept she had become at predicting their behavior, sometimes humans still manage to surprise her, never quite acting like she expected them to.
Some of her charges had been fearful and apprehensive about her presence, doubting every step they took; they had let her power completely overshadow them, contented to simply fade in the background. Others who had previously been timid had become cruel and cutthroat, abusing her gifts to achieve their goals at any price, disregarding everyone but themselves.
She still hadn't completely figured out Clarke Griffin, her new charge was a walking contradiction; she was brave beyond measure, willing to sacrifice herself for her people, yet still doubtful of her place as their rightful leader. She was tough and unyielding yet soft and humble at the same time but above all, she had a fire in her that Wanheda hadn't seen in quite a long time.
"It's an intrinsic part of human nature to try understanding everything all the time but some things simply can't be explained or rationalized. My existence for example is one of those things, not even you as my temporary host can pry into the mysteries of the universe".
An overwhelming silence filled the air; everything seemed to have faded away, not even the chipping birds or the other delinquents milling around could be heard. Who knew silence could be so oppressive?.
"You still have doubts, don't you?"
"Not about you or your choices, if that's what you are asking. It's me I doubt, I'm nothing special"
"I chose you Clarke Griffin; I wouldn't have if I didn't believe in you"
"I can't even make others listen to me!" Annoyance seeped through her voice. If she was extraordinary enough to be chosen by death herself why couldn't she stop feeling like a loser?.
"Failure doesn't define you. It's what you do after you fail that determines whether you are a leader or a waste of perfectly good air."
"No, please, no!". "God, have mercy!". Yelling and sobbing could be heard everywhere.
Swords and arrows piercing naked flesh, painting the soil completely red.
Bone-chilling screams and pleads reverberating in her skull, like a macabre song she couldn't escape.
The putrid smell of rotting corpses filled her nostrils, making her hold her breath to avoid throwing up.
Mangled bodies littered the battlefield, children and elderly alike, no one had been speared.
Lexa, her beautiful Lexa, choking on her blood, facing death with the same serenity she lived her life.
Their last kiss forever tainted with regrets, sorrows, and unspoken words.
"That's what you are fighting for. Don't forget it!"
Clarke acknowledged Wanheda with a simple, almost imperceptible vow. Death had shown her the fate that had befallen the remaining Arkers in the previous timeline, it may have been a cruel and excruciating lesson but it was exactly what she needed to remind herself that there was too much at stake and she couldn't afford hesitation or doubts to cloud her judgment.
It was like a veil had been lifted, for at that moment she finally understood what Death had been trying to tell her all along; she was not supposed to understand the why or how of her situation but simply have faith and never lose sight of her final goals.
"Clarke, Clarke!"
The blonde could suddenly hear a distant echo, a beacon that filtered through her tormenting memories to bring her back to the present.
"Clarke, what's going on?" Octavia's beautiful features were distorted with confusion and worry. What hunted Clarke Griffin to affect her like this?
Octavia was laying on a pool of her own blood, beaten almost to death. Clarke realized she was not even screaming now, the once prideful warrior had been reduced to a sobbing mess. The lack of yelling just made the scene even more gruesome, she had never known Octavia to be silent.
Not one to give up easily, the brunette had fought until her last breathe, daring them to attack her. The Azgeda soldiers were amused by her defiance. They taunted her as a cat would with a mouse before delivering death.
Spurred on by her boldness one of them abandoned his weapons and threw himself at her, pinning her to the floor. He enjoyed the terror reflected in her eyes; she was completely at his mercy. He was tempted to ask for her as his war spoilt, she would be an excellent slave, once he broke her indomitable spirit, but the orders had been clear; no survivors. What a shame.
His rough hands stripped her of the little clothes she still had, knowing what was about to happen the brunette spit him on the face and bit his lips until she drew blood yet instead of been discouraged it simply fueled him on even more. With one hand he held her wrists above her head and with the other he violently grasped her face, forcing her to watch him in the eyes.
He buried himself in her, delighted by her screams of pain. She tried to resist but he was simply too strong and she was too exhausted to fight back. Once his lust was satisfied he tossed her aside like a broken toy, lazily pulled up his pants, and beacon others to join in the fun.
Clarke would forever be grateful that in a show of respect Ontari had executed her before slaughtering the rest of her people, been shown the memories, especially Octavia's fate, had been enough to make her sick.
"Clarke, are you ok?".
The blonde was disoriented, where was she?. Everything was spinning out of control so she tried to calm her racing heart by focusing on things she could actually feel. She slowly started to count. One, the muddy earth in her hands. Two, the wind gently blowing in her face. Three, the singing birds around them. Four Octavia's radiant face, shining with love and care.
"You are freezing!". Without waiting for an answer the brunette instantly dropped her jacket and put it around Clarke's shoulders.
The blonde took Octavia's hands in her own and gave them a light squeeze.
"I'm fine O, I just lost track of time".
The blonde voice cracked and Octavia enveloped her in a hug, wisely keeping the comments about her tear-stained face to herself.
They watched the sunset at the horizon, spreading its largess into a grateful sky. Rich hues of red blended with oranges, purples, and crimsons. Clarke's spirit soared at the sight as she was transported to another life, a life that seemed far away and out of reach yet not long ago had been her only reality.
A yellow and light orange haze casted over the still lake. A warm sensation was splashed onto her face from the beaming rays of the sun. Calmness flew by with the wind making her heart stop for a single second. You could hear the grasses rustling behind as if they were whispering one another and the birds huddled with their loved ones knowing of the day's end.
A feather-light kiss upon her neck brought her back to reality, lazy hands idly roaming her stomach. She let herself melt into the strong body around her, letting all her worries fly free.
"It's breathtaking, isn't it?"
She felt Lexa nodding against her yet what she didn't know at the time was that the commander hadn't been looking at the sunset when she replied; instead, her gaze had been trained upon her all the time.
Finally, the sun disappeared along with its shine. But the stars peek out under the black, night sky.
Happiness bubbled inside her, undiluted and unbridled and she vowed to herself that they would have many other magical moments of beauty and warmth.
"We will find our love soon, until then let your memories give you strength little one".