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“Perhaps they were right, putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.”
– William Faulkner
Lexa grumbled and turned on herself on the bed, when suddenly she felt that something, or rather someone, was missing. Stirring, she looked around and found Clarke sitting on the floor, her back against the bed and starring in direction of the outside.
“Clarke? You’re not sleeping? Are you leaving?” she asked anxiously, taking the furs with her and approaching Clarke.
“Not now,” said Clarke, turning her head to look at her. “It isn’t dawn yet, there is still time.”
Lexa turned her head, looking outside. It was still dark. Night times were the only moments that belonged only to her, to them, it would seem. Perhaps if peace would come they could have more. She would like to see Clarke in the sunshine, entire days filled with her smile, her voice. Sunlight turning to sunset turning to moon glow in her hair; fall, winter, spring and summer passing on her skin. Time. She wanted that.
“So what’s going on?” Lexa said as she sat right beside her. She kissed Clarke on the shoulder, and gave her a part of her furs. It made Clarke smile briefly before she frowned again.
“Nothing, I’m… it doesn’t’ matter.”
“Well, obviously it matters if it’s upsetting you. What’s on your mind? You seem exhausted.”
“It’s because I am…” Clarke sighted.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m so tired of all of this, Lex”, Clarke said, moving closer to Lexa.
Understanding, Lexa wordlessly put her arms around Clarke to offer her some kind of comfort. Her breath against her neck and her arms around Clarke’s body were tangibles, as if to remind her that she was not alone, that she could lean on her. Clarke took her hands in hers, tracing light patterns on her palms and fingers before continuing in a whisper:
“I’m… I’m tired of the ghosts who won’t let me sleep at night, of the burning corpses and of the dying screams of children in Mount Weather...” At this Lexa’s heart tightened and she embraced her more tightly. “I’m tired of seeing my friends die or becoming haunted, and I’m tired of wondering if I’m a monster. Of wondering if all I am now is Wanheda…”
Lexa wanted to protest, to say that she was so much more than that, but this was not the time. Clarke needed to let everything out without interruption, so Lexa decided to do the only thing she could do: be there for her. She deposed a kiss on Clarke’s neck, a feather-light ‘I’m here for you, you’re not alone’ promise. Clarke just sighted and with a small voice continued:
“And I’m so so tired of my people, of worrying and fighting for them when all they keep doing is blaming me. I don’t even know if they deserve to be defended anymore Lexa, after all they have done… to your people… to you…” her voice wavered and her grip on Lexa’s hands became stronger. “I… I’m tired of you and me leaving all the time, I’m tired of missing you and wondering if every time we separate and say ‘may we meet again’ will be the last time I see you…”
Turning herself, Clarke looked her in the eyes and said softly, her voice barely a whisper:
“I don’t want to lose you, Lex. I can’t. You’re the only good thing I have left and the only one who makes of all this worth it.”
There were tears at the corners of Clarke’s eyes and Lexa felt her heart tighten again. She pressed her hands in hers. Clarke looked a mix between afraid and resigned when she spoke again.
“But we wasted so much time… and I’m so scared than when all is said and done one of us will be gone... I don’t want to pretend anymore that you are not my people, or that you are not my home, because you are” she said with a new conviction, her eyes locked on hers.
“You are” Clarke repeated fiercely, insisting as if she wanted somehow to grave it on her mind, on her skin and never let it go. Despite all, Lexa smiled. She felt that Clarke was in her veins too, entwined in her body and in her mind. She made her feel like a love struck goufa one moment and the next like her keryon somehow recognized hers through time, through worlds. Lexa was born to be Heda and raised to die, she accepted it long ago, but with Clarke there was more. Maybe she was also made to meet Clarke, to know her, to love her. Because Clarke made her a better Heda, but she also made it okay to be just Lexa too.
“And I’m so tired of fighting and waiting for ‘someday’ and waiting for loving you.” Clarke continued, letting go of one of her hand. And internally Lexa wanted to protest at the loss of contact, but before she could react, Clarke’s hand was posed on her cheek and despite her glistening eyes she looked fiercer than everyone that Lexa had ever seen in her life. “I want more. More time, more you.”
And it was so simple but it made her feel infinite and Lexa couldn’t help but smile again. Clarke stroked her cheek, her blue eyes were reamed with red but they were oh so shining. She was beautiful. And in this moment, Lexa was reminded of poems before the war about eyes shining brighter than the stars and bittersweet smiles carrying the weight of worlds and tragedies. Lexa wasn’t any good at drawing or at writing poems, really. But if she had been, she thinks that all of her art would have been Clarke. Clarke’s sun kissed hair. Clarke’s chapped lips, her thin smiles, teasing smiles or loving ones. Clarke’s eyes sometimes soft like a summer sky, other times their blue turning an almost metallic grey like a storm. Clarke, Clarke, Clarke. But Lexa was good at fighting, she couldn’t create art to preserve; still, her hands could hold Clarke’s and keep them warm, safe and she could protect her back. She could wipe the tears off Clarke’s cheeks, tickle her sides and make her body tingle. Maybe her warrior’s hands could be soft enough for Clarke.
“I’m tired of surviving for everyone else, and putting our people before each other,” Clarke continued, unstoppable. “I just want us to live for each other. Can’t we have this at least, after all we’ve sacrificed, can’t we have our peace?” she finished, her voice and hands wavering again.
“Ai… Ai hod yu in Klark (I... I love you Clarke),” Lexa said, kissing her tears. “And I know how you feel, I’m tired too… More than you can imagine. And I want nothing more than for us to only belong to each other. But… would you be at peace with yourself if we ran away?”
“Yes,” Clarke said immediately before grimacing and correcting herself “No, I suppose not… But I want to. I want to be okay with running away with you, but…”
“I know,” Lexa said simply, salt on her lips, forest eyes focusing unto sky-like ones.
“I’m sorry Lexa.”
Clarke’s voice was small, she pressed her head in Lexa’s neck, her shoulders hunched as if she wanted to curl up on herself. Lexa’s heart tightened, most of all she never wanted Clarke to feel small, so, embracing her again, she rushed to say:
“Don’t be-”
“But I should be okay with leaving them to deal with their mess,” Clarke interrupted her, anger mixed with sorrow in her voice. “I owe them nothing.” And her voice suddenly soft, she added “I just want you” before pressing her lips on Lexa’s neck, just on top of her pulse point. “And… if you asked me… if you asked me to stay, I would.”
And maybe that was the worst of it all. Clarke met her because Lexa was Heda and Clarke was Skai Heda and then Wanheda, but Lexa couldn’t keep Clarke with her for the same reasons. Lexa wished she could be selfish, but in this life she couldn’t. So she tightened her arms around Clarke, kissing the golden crown she braided in Clarke’s hair the day before. Clarke’s breath warmed her neck and her hand moved to press against Lexa’s heart and it settled her deep down.
“I know, and I’d love to ask you that, but I can’t, I can’t do this to you. And you wouldn’t want me to either, you know that. You care for them, and if it’s not you, who will help them?”
“They don’t even deserve to be helped” Clarke snapped angrily.
“You don’t really think that, Clarke. There is good in your people too and you know it” Lexa said softly.
Clarke turned to face Lexa again, her voice laced with desperation:
“But I care for you too, and I don’t want to save them at your expense. And I fear that it will come to that.”
“You won’t. This will not be my end, I promise you.” Lexa said. She kissed the tip of Clarke’s nose “My spirit will stay where it is” she added, a barely noticeable teasing smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
But it didn’t distract Clarke.
“You can’t promise me that. There is no way for you to know you can keep that kind of promise. Please don’t promise something you can’t keep, everyone I know did and all I have now is broken promises, I don’t want to add you on that list. Please don’t do that to me. Not you,” she ended in a shaky voice.
It made Lexa want to cry for Clarke, for the little girl she used to be, it made her want to kiss the pain away. Not much belonged to Lexa because she belonged to her people. Her life, her legacy were theirs, but if nothing else her heart was Clarke’s. It was not much a naitblida’s heart, it burned too fast and had a propensity to stop beating too soon, but Clarke made her want to try. Dying for a cause wasn’t the only way to be brave, living was braver. She wanted to grow old and see her naitblidas taller than her and alive, she wanted to see Clarke with wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, and grey in her hair, and have a lifetime of Clarke's art inked on her skin. And if she was lucky, perhaps one of them would be a bonding tattoo.
As Lexa started to speak, her right hand left Clarke’s hip to trace the outline of her niron’s face. She wanted to erase the frown on Clarke’s forehead, commit to memory the scar above her eyebrow and the laughter lines at the corner of her eyes.
“I know that more than anyone else I’m not fit to promise you that. But I want to, Clarke. You feel like home. And I know I have not the best – what is the Skaikru word again? Record? Track-record?” Clarke nodded, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips, her left hand landing on the one Lexa still had on her cheek, cradling it in hers; entwining lightly their fingers before moving Lexa’s hand from her cheek to her lips, kissing the palm of her hand softly, but Lexa didn’t stop. “I need to have this to hold on. I need to promise you that peace will come and that we will enjoy it together. I need to have a present and a future with you, Clarke. Titus was wrong, you know. Ai hod yu in en em ste nou branwoda o kwel (I love you and it is not foolish or weak). I won’t lose that... you, us. We will go to the sea and I will teach you how to swim, you will woke me up to go at the top of the tower to see the sun rise, we will ride through the woods and I will win the race, I will kiss you good morning, good night and everything in between, and you will leave spots of paint on my body all the time and I'll make tattoos of your art on my skin. She smiled and added softly "I want to grow old with you, Clarke, and we will."
With strands of hair escaping her braided crown, Clarke looked at Lexa as if she was special, precious. Lexa wasn’t really used to be cared for anymore, and sometimes she wasn’t sure that after all the things she had done and become she would deserve to. But Clarke knew her, really knew her, even the ugly, painful and slightly broken parts, and she still looked at her as if she put the stars in the sky. It was baffling, Lexa thought. Still, after coming from space herself, maybe Clarke was well placed to know. It made Lexa feel brave and hopeful and so incredibly young somehow.
“God, I love you Lexa,” Clarke exhaled, eyes impossibly soft. Lexa wanted to keep that look in her eyes forever.
“I know.” Lexa smirked, teasing her.
“Oh, stop being so smug!” Clarke snorted, a barely concealed smile on her lips. She pushed Lexa’s shoulder but Lexa just stood closer, her lips in a crooked smile, she wiggled her eyebrows and then kissed Clarke as she started laughing. And, lips tingling, heart singing, she though that there was definitely no better taste than Clarke’s laughter. Moments like that were precious and she cherished them while they lasted, because unfortunately she knew the world outside would soon take over. So she smiled, brushing an “I love you too” on Clarke’s lips.
“And Lex?” Clarke asked a moment later.
“Yes?”
“I will win. At the race, I will win” Clarke stated, a cocky smile on her lips.
Lexa laughed. Of course, she would say that.
“Come on, go back to sleep or you will fall off your horse later” Lexa said, a bittersweet taste taking place on her lips.
Clarke curled up against Lexa under the furs as she uttered “I’m sorry I’m still leaving Lex.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Clarke. But… let’s just enjoy what is left of our time together, okay?”
“Okay,” Clarke whispered in Lexa’s neck.
“Lex?” she added after a time.
“Mmm?” Lexa mumbled in the dark.
“I think we shouldn’t say ‘may we meet again’. I don’t want to say any kind of farewell to you, and this one especially leaves way too much up to chance. Which is really dumb because if there is anything, anyone, I’m sure of, it’s you. So we should rather say ‘until we meet again’.”
Lexa smiled and kissed Clarke.
“I’d like that.”
End