"She needs a distraction," it was a simple sentence, one that shouldn't really have been as unnerving to say as it was.
Since Lexa had been taken to Ton DC she had been thinking of ways to get whatever information she needed. The easiest way she knew of was to simply show her people the truth, for Mount Weather's actions to speak for themselves. But she knew that far too easy, far to impractical to assume Mount Weather would just simply reveal the truth. She also knew Mount Weather would be convincing everyone else that the reapers were the entirety of those who remained on the ground, that Clarke's people were somehow lesser and that they would need hard evidence to the contrary. And yet again, she knew Clarke would not so easily let Lexa's people simply waltz into her domain for fear of attack, of devastation being wrought down upon them.
And so Lexa let those thoughts settle into the calm, into the quiet as she began to analyse each and every little thing she knew. And then it clicked into place, and it was easy, the simplest way of getting the information she wanted, of helping herself, Anya, her people and Clarke's.
"We create a reason to get Bellamy into the Mountain," she said and she watched as Clarke's head tilted to the side. But there was something suspicious in the way Clarke looked at her, in the way her demeanour still seemed to be on guard. "You think I'm using this as a reason to get Bellamy to safety," it was as much a guess as educated assumption. Lexa was sure Clarke didn't fully trust them despite the games she played.
"Continue," Clarke said quietly.
"What better way to help convince the others than by having someone who they believe was taken prisoner by your people? He can vouch for you, for the things that are true and explain the lies those in Mount Weather are saying," Lexa explained. "Plus, we can use him escaping as a distraction, get those in Mount Weather to be on high alert for me, for your people trying to attack. It should give Anya an opportunity to explore inside Mount Weather while they're distracted looking outwards and not within," Lexa hoped she was making sense, she hoped whatever logic her brain had convinced itself of made enough sense that Clarke could see the sense in it.
"How do you suggest the Mountain not suspect this plan? That Bellamy was simply able to escape without repercussion?" Clarke slowly rose from where she had been sitting and began to stalk towards her slowly, each step she took exposing the curve of her leg as her footsteps fell in one in front of the other in poised danger.
Lexa swallowed as her face turned upwards slightly as Clarke eventually came to a stop in front of her.
"You beat us," Lexa said, and this time her voice was a little shaky, in part because she didn't quite like the idea of being beaten, and in part because she felt herself in a little more obscene danger than she had been moments ago, the mental games Clarke seemed to enjoy playing with her never far from each interaction they shared.
"I beat you?" Clarke asked, voice curious as a hand slowly came up to stroke against Lexa's cheek.
"Yes," Lexa tried not to lean into the touch lest she do something a little more stupid than she had done before.
"Why?" Clarke seemed to move even closer, her body seemed both cool and too warm as it invaded Lexa's personal space, as it made her sit a little further back in her chair as Clarke loomed over her, as the silk of the gown she wore gently brushed against Lexa.
"You make it look like you've been torturing me and Bellamy," Lexa said. "And," Lexa paused, she swallowed and she tried to think of another way of making this look more real than it needed to be. But she couldn't. There were too many risks to not put all her effort into making sure the plan went as well as it did. "You shoot me with an arrow," Lexa said. "We'll both make a run for it, Bellamy will be helping to carry me because I'll be too wounded to do anything, but your people will get too close and it will force him to leave me behind while he gets to safety," and Lexa swallowed yet again because she wasn't entirely sure if asking what she was about to ask would cross a line. "But I'll actually be ok because you can use your blood to heal me."
It was presumptuous, Lexa knew that.
But they needed it to look real. And if getting shot by an arrow was what it took she'd take it. She just hoped that Clarke would be willing to help her out.
Clarke remained silent for a very long time, her gaze never wavering from Lexa's as she clearly began to analyse the things she had heard. Lexa let the quiet sit between them and she dare not mention the fact that Clarke's hand continued to rest against her cheek softly, the touch feeling a little too possessive for her liking.
"And what if Bellamy betrays you?" Clarke said eventually and Clarke's voice was cold, ice, far more dangerous than it ever had been before. "What if he betray me?"
Lexa found herself taking a long moment to truly consider the question Clarke had just asked her. In part because she wanted to actually give herself the time to think over that very possibility, and in part because she knew she needed to be careful, not because she feared for her own life, but because she was certain Clarke would veto her plan at the slightest possibility that her people would be more at risk carrying out the plan than by not carrying it out.
But as Lexa continued to think, as she continued to ponder, she realised she couldn't make assurances, she couldn't make promises she couldn't keep.
And so she took in a steadying breath before she came to stand, Clarke's proximity forcing her to come even closer now that she stood face to face with the other woman.
"I can't make promises," Lexa said quietly, her eyes never wavering from Clarke's as she let herself take in the ice that seemed to make Clarke's skin glow in the candlelight. "Not ones I can't keep myself," she continued. "But I trust Anya," and she tried to show an openness in her eyes, in the way she didn't look away from Clarke's gaze. "She can do this. But it will help her, it will help us if we can get Bellamy into Mount Weather to help her."
It seemed like it was Clarke's turn to remain quiet. Lexa was content to let her think over what she said and part of her didn't think Clarke would appreciated being pushed too far, being urged and backed into a position she hadn't come to herself.
But then Clarke did something unexpected that caught Lexa completely off guard.
She leant forward until her face was just above the crook of Lexa's neck and then she inhaled deeply.
"You used the lavender soap," Clarke said, her tone much lighter than it had been previously, the shock of her actions leaving Lexa leant back a fraction and her eyes widened.
It took Lexa aa moment to regain composure, but in the time it took she realised Clarke had seemingly taken hold of the room in a way that seemed a little more sure than it had been moments before when she had been trying to convince her, trying to make her see the potential of the plan Lexa had suggested.
Lexa thought it a simple trick of Clarke's to regain whatever power dynamic she wished to hold between them.
Maybe it was the repeated shocks of each and every interaction they shared, perhaps it was the familiarity of the games Clarke obviously enjoyed putting her through, but Lexa slowly began to think she understood, in some way, in some strange fashion.
She thought Clarke only used to those around her showing deference, respect, things she rightly deserved given the things Lexa knew of her. And yet, despite those things she did know, she realised she didn't quite treat Clarke the same way. Not that she meant to, but that she had been more fascinated in a morbid sense as she had tried to understand how Clarke had come to be, in what way, how it made sense scientifically. And perhaps those desires of Lexa had influenced her actions, had influenced how she reacted to the other woman.
Or maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe instead of her inadvertent mind games, instead of whatever mental manoeuvring both women thought the other participating in, the simplest explanation for why Clarke tolerated her as much as she did, the simplest explanation for why Clarke kept her around, was because she was attracted to her— whether in the way a wild predator was attracted to a cornered animal or whether it was more human, more personal, Lexa didn't know.
And perhaps she wanted to find out.
Lexa looked down at her feet to give herself a moment to think over how best to act in the next few moments. She thought Clarke would agree to her plan because she, herself, truly believed it gave them the best chance at getting what they both needed without needless bloodshed. She knew Clarke would see right through her if there was even a hint that Lexa had an ulterior motive, and she knew, too, that Clarke would have her killed if needed, regardless of whatever personal feelings may or may not have existed.
But Lexa was tired of games, of waiting for things to happen, of needing to act only after someone or something else had happened. She had been reacting too much in the days since coming to the ground, she missed being in control, being able to make decisions and act.
Lexa looked back up into Clarke's eyes and it didn't surprise her when she realised the woman had been studying her the entire time, gaze never wavering from whatever it was she looked upon. And so Lexa studied the woman in return. She thought her kind in an odd way, perhaps not warm, not gentle, but kind nonetheless. And she knew her caring of her people, unwilling to risk their lives needlessly and without purpose. That much was clear from the way Clarke would refuse to even get a moment of fresh air during the day, and would travel underground if needed.
And Lexa knew too, that Clarke's people saw her as more than a deity that simply existed and demanded all with nothing given in return. Lexa had heard talk of Polis, of Azgeda, of other clans that Clarke had seemingly joined into a coalition that had seen peace flourish, the only bump in the road being Mount Weather.
So maybe, through every thing Clarke was responsible, every decision she had to make that could lead to the deaths of hundreds if not thousands of people, Clarke simply looked for moments of respite, of calm, times when she could unwind and have just a little fun without worry of the things that weighed upon her shoulders. Lexa wouldn't blame her for wanting to relax, to enjoy a stolen moment in the here and now, wherever and whenever she could.
"You know," Lexa began and she found her heart beating a little more furiously in her chest as her mind began to make decisions she didn't entirely think were too logical. "If you're looking for fun, for a distraction," she bit her lip and tried not to think of how awkward it would be if she had misread the entire situation. "I'm not opposed to that, Clarke."
Clarke's eyebrow rose just a fraction and Lexa could see the barest hints of surprise flash through the woman's eyes before settling back into the unreadable depth of blue that never wavered.
"But if you're looking for something a bit more," again Lexa tried to fight the heat she felt building in the tips of her ears lest they give her away, lest she find herself completely regretting opening whatever door she was pushing open. "I'm open to that, too."
Lexa's voice trailed off, the silence between them far more intense than it had been just moments ago. She didn't entirely know why she thought it had been a good idea to say what she did. Of course she knew why she had done so, and yet there was still that tiny part of her brain that told her to take it all back, to pretend like she had never said anything at all. But she forced those worries into the back of her mind, she forced them down and silenced them. And she never let her gaze waver from Clarke's the entire time.
Eventually Clarke's lip quirked up at the corners, the expression almost impossibly small to notice. And yet Lexa noticed it. Maybe them kissing just days earlier had sealed their shared fates, perhaps that one tenuous connection borne out of a want to push back, to regain some control had subconsciously pushed both women to realise whatever it was between them. Or maybe it was simply because Lexa was in a precarious position, one she didn't know how to navigate.
"So…" Lexa swallowed as Clarke remained silent. "What now?"
Clarke was still quiet for a too long second before she took a slow step backwards until there was space between them both. She watched as the woman slowly began to stalk back and forth in front of her, each step she took poised, the silk gown she wore just barely making a sound as it slid across the woman's skin. Lexa tried not to look too closely at the figure the gown was draped across lest she been seen staring. But it was hard. And she was sure Clarke yet again did it on purpose to somehow throw her off, put her at whatever disadvantage she desired.
But then Clarke stopped in the middle of the room, her bare feet charmingly wriggling into the thick furs she stood upon as she came to face her completely.
"Not many would be so bold as to speak to me the way you just did, Lexa," Clarke said, her voice quiet and calm.
"I guess I'm not like most people," it was a cocky answer, Lexa would admit that much. But for some reason she thought Clarke would appreciated it.
"No," Clarke hummed in agreement. "You are not," she said as her hand fell to the sash at her waist.
Clarke gave one single tug of the sash and the gown fell to the ground to leave her bare in the candle light.
And with that, Lexa had one singular thought running through her mind.
Oh my fucking god.