It was dark, the moon had long since taken residence in the sky and Lexa tried not to make too much noise as she followed closely behind Clarke. They had been walking for what seemed like hours. It had been long enough that Lexa had mostly lost track of time. Occasionally they would stop, crouch in the shadows of a large tree or behind a thorny bush before moving on. She didn't even know if Clarke had other warriors with them somewhere unseen in case they were attacked or stumbled across a roaming party of reapers.
And so Lexa kept quiet as she came to a shallow crouch beside Clarke once more. But this time it was different. Held in Clarke's hands was a bow, its construction ornate, intricate carvings etched into its body, its wood smoothened from years of use and care and love. The very slight creaking of the bowstring being drawn was the only sound to break the silence and Lexa tried to see what Clarke had seen, she tried to peer into the dark, into the shadows and yet see nothing she could.
She knew enough not to ask what it was Clarke saw, she knew enough that it could be anything at all. And she knew enou—
Clarke fired. The arrow snapped forward with such ferocity and suddenness that Lexa jumped a fraction. The arrow darted out into the dark, it whistled through the air and then it hit something with a thud.
And then there was silence.
Lexa looked around them half expecting an animal to dart out of the dark, half expecting something more than the ever present quiet that settled amongst the shadows and the dark of the night.
"Come," Clarke said quietly as she stood and slung her bow over her shoulder.
Lexa watched for a moment longer as Clarke stepped forward, each motion she made poised and elegant, serpentine as she slipped from shadow to shadow as she neared her destination.
"What is it?" Lexa asked quietly as she came to a stop beside Clarke, her gaze settled on the small critter Clarke had shot through the heart, the sight of the arrowhead protruding out the other side of the animal bringing forth just a momentary thought of sadness.
"Dinner," Clarke said simply.
And with that Clarke took the animal in her hands and disappeared into the darkness.
Once more Lexa found herself walking behind Clarke, her feet had begun to ache a little and her body had long since started to feel the weight of gravity as it pulled at her muscles and bones. The trees seemed never ending wherever they were, the soil underfoot soft, thick, lush. The moss that covered tree trunk and fallen tree so green and vibrant that it seemed to somehow glow in the dark of the night.
Eventually they came to a stop. Before them was perhaps what could be described as a moss covered cliff face that rose up into the sky. To the right the forest trees thinned enough that Lexa could see Mount Weather that lifted up from the lands, its silhouette illuminated by the moon.
"Come," Clarke's voice was gentle as she began to move towards the cliff face.
At first Lexa didn't notice it but as she followed Clarke she realised that part of the cliff face opened up subtly to reveal a small cave of sorts, its entrance hidden amongst the crags and nooks of the rock. Green vines hung before her, too, their presence enough to create something close to a garden curtain that helped hide the entrance to those that weren't paying attention.
"What is this place?" Lexa asked as she stepped through the wall of vines and moss covered stone.
"A place for warriors to rest," Clarke said and she came to a stop in the centre of the small cave and looked around herself, perhaps to study its interior, maybe to check that everything was where it should be.
Lexa's gaze moved around the small space as she took in what she saw. A large fur rug was laid in the centre, small wood boxes dotted the interior space, supplies she assumed for those that took refuge where she now stood. Even what she thought was a place for a fire was set up in the far corner, perhaps far enough away that the light wouldn't be seen from outside the cave.
As Lexa looked up above her she found a small hole in the cave's roof, large enough that the moon's light was able to shine through and illuminate the cave's interior, not so large that the wind or rain would cause too much discomfort should the weather turn.
"It's nice," Lexa said and she wondered why exactly Clarke had taken her here.
"Yes," Clarke said simply as she pulled forward one of the boxes and sat in the centre of the cave. "Now sit. We will eat."
Lexa sat in quiet observation as she watched Clarke skin and then dress the animal. She would wince at times as Clarke cut and sliced into the small critter, her hands so quick in their movements that Lexa knew the other woman had done this many times before.
She couldn't help but to look over her shoulder and at the entrance to the cave every so often, mostly because she didn't think she felt entirely comfortable sitting so seemingly alone within the depths of the forest, not matter how at ease Clarke seemed to be in that moment.
Lexa supposed half that feeling simply because Clarke was something she couldn't put her finger on, whose intentions at times were so clear, and at other times were so murky that she knew herself a simple pawn in a game Clarke had set in motion years ago.
"You are safe, Lexa," Clarke's voice was ever quiet, the timbre of it sending a shiver down her spine as she snapped her gaze back to the woman to find her slowly stirring a pot of boiling broth, roots and supplies, and the prepared meats she had since prepared.
"Are we?" Lexa asked, her head tilting to the side as she tried to figure out why Clarke deemed it safe enough for her to take them both so far away from the safety of Ton DC.
"Yes," Clarke said in answer before she paused and Lexa watched her taste the broth before grimacing. "More salt,' she sighed and seemed to forget Lexa's presence for a second as she rummaged in a small pack she had brought with her.
"Where is everyone?" Lexa asked.
Clarke remained quiet for a brief moment as she continued to stir the pot, a frown so very subtly taking presence upon her face as she seemed to concentrate on the task at hand.
But then Clarke seemed to make up her mind, or come to an answer.
"Ontari and Gustus are roaming the forests with my best warriors ensuring no one is near enough to be aware of our presence," Clarke said quietly.
"I see," Lexa said, her mind turning back to the conversation they had shared earlier that day, to the things they had said to each other.
"Here."
Lexa didn't realise she had lost herself in thought until she looked up to find Clarke holding out a small bowl of food.
"Thanks," and Lexa reached out cautiously as she took the bowl in her hands.
She took a moment to get into a comfortable position on the fur before she slowly dipped the spoon into the food and blew on it briefly, the heat of it happy to dance against her cheeks for a moment.
She looked up then to find Clarke watching her keenly, the simmering pot of food between them, the scents of the meal wafting all around them and her gaze keen, careful, perhaps even curious as she looked upon her. Lexa found herself meeting Clarke's stare with her own, and she took in the woman who sat in front of her.
She let herself look upon the grey of her skin, the black of the veins that ever so gently spiderwebbed beneath her skin and she couldn't help but to wonder, to marvel and to imagine the how and the why of how Clarke had come to be. She wouldn't ask, though. In part because she didn't think Clarke would have an answer, whatever had created her people perhaps long since lost to time. And she wouldn't ask because she thought prying in such a manner somehow rude.
"What are you thinking about?" Clarke's question broke into her thoughts quietly and Lexa let the question sit between them as she brought the spoon to her lips and took a small cautious mouthful.
The food was nice, subtly seasoned, not as extravagant as the feast she had first had amongst Clarke's people. But it was far nicer than anything she had ever had while up in space.
"What are you thinking about?" Clarke's question was repeated, her tone ever light, the glint in her eyes ever predatory in the dim glow of the burning stones that brought heat and warmth to the pot of food and the cave's cold interior.
"You," Lexa said, and it was part truth, part omission of truth. But it was true.
Clarke's eyebrow lifted, maybe in challenge, maybe in surprise. Whatever the reason, it lifted all the same and it seemed to humanise her, seemed to make her seem a little less like the otherworldly being she appeared to be.
"What about me?" Clarke asked and there seemed to be true curiosity in her voice this time, something that wasn't put on for show, to obfuscate or distract.
"Everything," Lexa said, her confidence at whatever situation she was in feeling more sure, more certain. "Why you brought me here, why you kept me alive, why you think I can be the one to help you, to convince my people to help you."
As Lexa spoke she began to think over every little thing that had happened to her since crashing to the ground. She thought of the bath they had first shared, how surprised, horrified, unsure and afraid she had been at first. She thought of the conversations they had shared, she thought of the warriors she knew lived underground right at that very moment. She thought of Maya, she thought of the push and pull and uncertainties that had existed between herself and Clarke, of the intimacy they had shared that at times had felt oddly personal, and at times purely fuelled by carnal desire or want or lust or simply stress. And she thought of the fact that not that long ago Clarke had made her think she had killed her in some kind of means to provide answer to the questions Lexa found herself being consumed by.
"It is nice," Clarke said eventually, her gaze somehow focused on her yet Lexa was sure Clarke looked past her, looked through her and at memories, ghosts, things only Clarke knew in that moment.
"What is?" Lexa found herself feeling more and more confident in her ability to ask questions, to assume she could, to push as much as pull from Clarke as Clarke did to her.
"To have someone to speak with who does not think of me as Heda first."
It didn't entirely seem lonely or sad, but there was something that tinged Clarke's words that piqued Lexa's interest.
Perhaps it was truthful, though. Lexa had of course tread with caution when they had first met. And yet she hadn't let herself be pushed around as much as she probably should have, and as she thought over it more and more she realised most people would probably have been put to death for half the things she had done or said in Clarke's company.
Maybe she'd consider that fact at another time, maybe she'd consider just how tyrannical Clarke probably was if she got out of this war with Mount Weather alive. But in that moment Lexa continued to gaze upon Clarke.
And what Lexa saw was a girl, someone perhaps a little younger than her. Whose face if she imagined just a little, would have been less burdened by the responsibilities of leading her people, whose face would carry less wrinkles, less scars, less pains etched into her pale grey visage.
"There have been many a time I have wondered what it would be like to live a different life," Clarke's voice was quiet, careful as she spoke, and this time her gaze seemed to refocus upon her. "Not seriously, not in any manner that would distract me from my duty," Clarke continued. "But for a moment or two I would wonder what life would be like if I were born someone different," there was curiosity in her voice now and Lexa could tell Clarke imagined that life, if only for a fraction of a second.
Lexa didn't know how to respond. Maybe because she didn't thinks he could entirely relate to the life Clarke had lived, and maybe because she felt herself intruding in some way.
"You have intrigued me, Lexa of the sky people," Clarke said, the subject changed, whatever longing in her eyes gone.
"How?" Lexa wouldn't comment on what Clarke had said previously. But perhaps she'd do so at another time.
"You are sure of yourself when others would cower," Clarke's words seemed somewhat grandiose in a way that only someone of Clarke's stature could convey. And yet Lexa thought the compliment meant to be more intimate, more personal that it sounded.
She felt the corner of her lips twitch up at the corners in response, too. Maybe she enjoyed the more sure Clarke, the Clarke who seemed a little less uncertain of her existence simply because Lexa realised she felt awkward when Clarke spoke of herself in ways that Lexa didn't think she should be privy to. And not because she didn't want to be, not because it didn't interest her in some way. But, but what?
As Lexa thought, as she considered just where her thoughts had been taking her, she found herself realising it was because she seemingly cared for Clarke as a person, as something more familiar than the ruler of her people, than the person who could command her death with a simple word or utterance.
And as Lexa realised that, as she began to consider just what that meant she realised she didn't really know what to make of it.
Lexa began to think of the things they had shared in their quiet moments. She began to think of the way Clarke had brought her back to life, the conversations and the moments spent together and she began to realise something she should have put together earlier than she had.
Lexa frowned as she looked at the bowl in her hands, and she studied the meal, how homely it seemed, full of care and simple passion. She looked up and around herself at the cave, at the privateness of the setting and she looked at Clarke, at the intricate armours she wore and the way she continued to look at her with quiet contemplation.
And Lexa realised.
She realised Clarke had opened herself up to her in a way she probably would have reserved for only her most intimate of companions. She realised Clarke's idea of intimacy so very skewed compared to what most would probably consider appropriate
And Lexa realised.
"Is this a date?"
Clarke's head tilted to the side as she took in Lexa's words, a frown seemed to form a little more completely across her face and she glanced down to the bowl in Lexa's hands before looking back up at her.
"It is… soup?"
"No," Lexa winced as she shook her head, her ears suddenly burning a little more than she appreciated as she bit her lip and tried to figure out how to navigate the situation she now found herself in. "No," she looked back up to find Clarke staring at her intently. "I meant— are we courting?"