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For a while, Clarke just wanders on her own. She's kind of impressed by how well the Earth Skills classes on the Ark taught her. She manages to find food and water. Since arriving on the ground she's learned to live on very little, anyway. Sometimes she tries to build herself some kind of shelter, and sometimes she just doesn't bother. She sleeps under the stars and thinks of her dad. In a way she's happy he never made it down here. This place turns people into monsters, and her dad was her hero. The only hero she's had that's remained pure. She feels grateful she gets to hold on to that.
It's been a few weeks, she thinks, when she finally sees another person. They don't even speak, but she sees him. As soon as she does, he leaves. Clarke realizes that's probably a bad sign, that he'll probably come back and kill her with some help. She hasn't really been worried about her safety, and she's not sure why. She sleeps unprotected under the open sky and wakes each morning surprised to see another day.
She knows she should leave. She should move on, now that she’s been spotted. But she doesn’t. So the next day, when she wakes up just fine, she’s suspicious. And so the next night she pretends to sleep, and that’s when she hears him. After she’d been pretending to sleep for a good while, keeping her breathing even, she hears what sounds distinctly like someone peeing in the bushes. Her heart stops for a second. So, she was right. She is being watched.
She waits a minute before quickly jumping to her feet, pulling a small knife out of her pocket.
“Who’s there?” she asks, her eyes moving between the trees, trying to spot her watcher.
A huge man steps out of the trees. Clarke thinks she might recognize him from TonDC but she’s not sure. He has broad shoulders and a beard, his face covered in paint. He looks like a lot of people she saw in TonDC. And a lot of those people are dead. She wonders, for just a second, if she might be imagining this.
“The Commander sent me to watch you once she learned of your survival at the mountain.”
“What?” Clarke asks, the shock apparent on her face. “You’ve been watching me?”
“Yes, Clarke of the Sky People.”
Clarke takes a deep breath and asks the questions she most fears the answer to. “For how long?”
“For several weeks,” he replies.
Great. Maybe she wasn’t so good at this Earth Skills stuff after all. She remembers Anya. She remembers being scolded for being so loud. For being so inept. Maybe it’s not so surprising that it has taken her weeks to notice that she wasn’t alone.
“You said Lexa sent you. For what purpose?” she asks.
Clarke notices that he’s moved closer, and without realizing it, she’s tightened the grip around her knife. She’s not sure why she’s suddenly ready to fight when she’s been so careless about her life for weeks. She’s not sure why she finally feels blood running through her veins, but she thinks it might have something to do with hearing about her. About Lexa.
“I cannot disclose the Commander’s thoughts.”
She should have expected as much. And before she can stop herself, before she can think better of it, she betrays herself. “Can you take me to her?” she asks, her voice a little too rough, a little too broken, and she thinks it’s because she hasn’t spoken to another person in so, so long.
“That I can do,” he says.
She nods and closes the distance between them. She extends her hand, and he reluctantly shakes it.
“My name is Felix,” he says, dropping his hand by his side. “It is a long journey to Polis, and we shall make it by foot. We might as well become acquainted.”
Clarke nods and sets off to gather her things, muttering under her breath, “seems like you’re plenty acquainted with me, stalker.”
If he hears, he does not respond.
---
It only takes her a few minutes to get ready to go. She does not have very many things. She learns that the walk to Polis will take them two days, and she’s glad, because that will give her time to think about what she will do when they get there.
Clarke hasn’t thought about Lexa. Not really.
She’s thought a lot about her father.
She’s thought about how brave he was. How he was willing to die for what he believed in. How she would do anything to see him just one more time.
She also thinks about Wells. How he was maybe just as brave as her father was. How he was willing to lose their friendship in order to protect Clarke. She thinks that maybe, besides her parents, Wells is the only person to have truly loved her.
Which isn’t fair to Finn. He loved Clarke. She thinks he did, at least. Or that he thought he loved her. But the ground makes people mad, and love is already an enterprise of madness. It’s why she can’t think of Finn and let herself think of love. Because if love on the ground is like that, if love is madness, then why are they even here? How will they not just survive, but live?
And that’s why Clarke hasn’t thought about Lexa. For a second, Lexa made her think that she agreed, that life should be about more than just surviving. When Lexa invited Clarke to Polis, her eyes screamed love. They were green and desperate but they said come, come with me, please. And then there was just madness. Those eyes looked at her and all Clarke saw was betrayal and blood where minutes before she saw hope.
So Clarke hasn’t thought about Lexa. Not really. Because when she does, she thinks that all love is madness, that love destroys you, that it makes you unable to think clearly, that it makes you crazy.
It made Finn crazy. And now here she is, walking to Polis to see a woman who left her for dead.
So she’s pretty sure she’s right. Love is madness.
---
Felix keeps quiet throughout most of the walk, except for when she’s doing something wrong and he scolds her.
When it starts to get dark out, he suggests they stop for the night. He finds a suitable place and they sit. It’s only then that Clarke realizes how badly her entire body aches.
He gives her some pieces of dry meat and she eats much too fast.
When it’s time to go to sleep, she tries. She really does. But she can’t do it. Maybe it’s because of the huge grounder sleeping 10 feet away, but maybe it’s because she’s actually pretty scared of tomorrow, and she’s not ready for it to come.
Just before sunrise, she finally drifts off. It feels like it’s only been minutes when Felix wakes her up and says it’s time to go.
The next time she sleeps, it will be in Polis.
---
When they arrive in Polis, the sun is starting to set. Clarke is certain she’s never seen anything so beautiful.
It’s a proper city, like she read about on the Ark. It’s amazing.
She doesn’t get to see very much of it before Felix is leading her into a house, which he informs her is where she’ll stay. It’s empty, and she’s pretty sure no one lives here, but it’s fully furnished.
It’s what she imagines a hotel would look like.
“There is food and everything you could need here,” Felix tells her.
“Does anyone live here? What is this place?” she asks, her interest peaking when she finds a bookshelf overflowing with books.
“This is where the Commander entertains her guests,” he says, and something about that sours her mood.
“Where is Lexa?” she asks, though she’s not sure she wants to know.
“The Commander is not currently in Polis. She will visit you upon her return.”
And with that, he leaves, and Clarke is alone once again.
She actually feels the emptiness set in, and hates herself for how good it felt to have someone around, even if it was a complete stranger who she barely talked to.
The first thing she looks for is a bathroom, and she almost cries when she sees a shower in it. Clarke is absolutely filthy and she feels true happiness for the first time in a while when she smells the soaps that are lined up outside the shower.
She strips her clothes off and tries to avoid looking at herself, at her body covered in scars and blood and dirt.
The shower is not warm enough, but it’s long. It’s the longest shower she’s ever taken. This kind of thing was regulated on the Ark. She watches the water turn brown as it washes over her, until it’s finally clear, and she’s clean. It’s then that she starts to cry and it takes her a long time before she stops.
She finds clean clothes in a closet in the bedroom. She pulls them on and collapses into the huge bed at the center of the room.
---
Clarke isn’t sure how much time has passed when she wakes up, but the sun is out so she assumes it’s been a while.
No one has come to see her.
She browses the place a little bit, fixes herself something to eat, and then goes back to sleep.
She wakes again when she hears a knock at the front door.
Clarke rubs the sleep out of her eyes before getting out of bed and walking to the door.
“Who is it?” she asks, suddenly wary of letting anyone inside her new found sanctuary.
“It’s me.”
And it’s Lexa, of course.
Clarke takes a deep breath and opens the door, and there she is. Lexa looks a lot better than the last time they saw each other. Cleaner. She looks normal, almost. Like she isn’t the one who decides who lives and who dies around here.
“Hey,” Clarke says, her eyes finally meeting Lexa’s. And they are still so green, but she’s not sure what else is in them.
“Hello, Clarke. May I come in?” Clarke realizes that Lexa is nervous, and that makes Clarke happy for a second.
“Sure, it’s your place.” Clarke moves out of the way to let Lexa in, and Lexa does her best at moving past Clarke without their bodies touching at all.
Clarke closes the door and finds Lexa sitting at the dining room table. She takes a seat as well.
“I’m happy to see that Felix brought you back here safely,” Lexa says.
“Why did you have him watching me?” Clarke asks, not in the mood to beat around the bush.
“I wanted to make sure you were safe.” Lexa looks a bit uneasy, and Clarke knows that it’s because admitting something like that is very difficult for Lexa.
But she doesn’t care.
“You didn’t seem to care much about my safety when you left me at Mount Weather,” she replies coolly, and she notices how Lexa clenches her jaw in response.
“I told you, I do care, Clarke,” Lexa says, and Clarke has to look away, because she’s not ready to see how sincere Lexa is being. She wants to continue playing this game. She needs to.
“Well, I saved all my people without you,” Clarke says proudly, spitefully, but she can tell it’s not really believable. Clarke isn’t proud, she hates herself for it. But she doesn’t want Lexa to know how weak she is.
“And yet you chose to leave them.” Lexa looks at her intently, and Clarke just deflates. She doesn’t have the energy to fight, not with anyone, but especially not with Lexa.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Clarke says.
“You can stay here as long as you’d like,” Lexa says, and she gives Clarke a small smile.
Clarke can’t bring herself to smile back, so she just nods.
Clarke isn’t waiting for an apology, she knows that Lexa can’t give her one. So she also isn’t about to thank Lexa for this kindness, or whatever it is. And Lexa must not expect that, either, because she stands then, and makes her way towards the door.
“I’ll see you soon, Clarke.” And then she’s out the door.
Clarke goes back to sleep.
---
Clarke spends the next couple of days inside, mostly sleeping. She finds some notebooks and draws a little, but that reminds her of her father, and of the art set he bought her for her birthday when she was way too young to know how to properly do anything.
She looks through some of the books on the massive bookshelf, but she can’t commit to any one book.
She thinks about her friends, even though she tries not to. She misses them, and then feels guilty when she wonders if they miss her, too.
On the third day, Lexa comes back. It’s the middle of the day and she’s brought Clarke some food.
“You could have sent someone to do this for you,” is what Clarke says to thank her. But she is actually thankful because she was starting to wonder if she was going to have to go outside to find more food soon.
“I wanted to see how you were doing.”
Lexa looks concerned, and it probably has something to do with the fact that Clarke hasn’t left this place in three days and hasn’t properly dressed either.
“I’m fine.”
Lexa lets out a long sigh.
“Okay, Clarke.”
A few seconds pass before Lexa speaks again, shifting her weight from one leg to another, almost like she’s nervous.
“I was wondering if you would like to see Polis with me tomorrow. Properly. You have not explored the city.”
Clarke says yes, and Lexa tells her to be ready in the morning.
---
Lexa shows Clarke the main part of the city, where Lexa lives and works, where the Commander’s council meets and rules. They walk slowly down busy streets, and the amount of people around them makes it less strange that three bodyguards walk a few paces behind them.
They pass a number of shops, but they don’t go into any of them.
Lexa takes Clarke to a garden, and it seems like it’s closed to the public because they are the only people there.
They sit on a bench and eat food that Lexa’s bodyguards had been carrying for them.
The food is so good and the garden is so pretty that Clarke forgets she’s supposed to be mad at Lexa.
“This is really nice,” she says, looking around at all the plants and flowers around them.
“I like to come here to think,” Lexa says. “It helps me remember what good things there are in this world.”
Clarke looks over at Lexa and sees the sadness in those green eyes. It is a real, deep sadness, and Lexa looks so young.
They are both so young and everything has been so unfair.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Clarke says, and she holds Lexa’s gaze for a long time. It’s the closest Lexa will get to forgiveness from Clarke.
They sit there and talk for a while. Clarke asks about Polis, about how many people live here, and what it’s like to rule over them.
Clarke tells Lexa about the Ark, and about how restrictive it felt all the time. About how you could never really be alone on a spaceship, until you were put into solitary confinement. That’s when Clarke learned that being alone wasn’t all that she had hoped.
Clarke tells Lexa about her father and it feels so good to talk to someone about it, not just about what happened, but about him, and how close they were.
“I lost my parents, too,” Lexa says, and she isn’t looking for pity. She just wants Clarke to not feel so alone.
And for a little while, Clarke doesn’t.
---
They meet for lunch in the garden a few times a week. Lexa sends someone to fetch Clarke and Clarke goes, every time.
They don’t talk about what happened between them. Not about Lexa leaving Clarke at Mount Weather, and certainly not about the kiss.
They talk about books Clarke loves, and about the first time Lexa went into battle. They talk about the 12 clans, and Clarke tells Lexa about the Unity Day when she got really drunk for the first time with Wells. They talk about their favorite foods, and Lexa has Clarke try some of hers.
Clarke talks about her friends, finally, about Bellamy and Octavia, about Raven and Monty and Jasper, about Finn. She tells Lexa about Finn and Raven, about how guilty the whole thing made her feel, about how it was wrong from the beginning.
“Love is never wrong,” Lexa says. “It is weakness, as I have told you. But it is not wrong. Something like love can not be wrong.”
Clarke knows that Lexa is right. That facts can be right or wrong, but that feelings cannot be held to that same standard. And yet it feels so wrong to look forward to meeting Lexa for lunch, and to be disappointed when no one comes calling for her.
It feels wrong for Clarke to go home smiling after seeing Lexa, and that makes her so mad. She can’t enjoy anything without feeling guilty about it, without getting angry with herself, without feeling a little bit crazy.
Clarke doesn’t love Lexa. Not yet, not really. But Lexa makes her so mad, and maybe that’s the same thing.
---
For weeks, Clarke only sees Lexa outside, at the garden for lunch in the middle of the day. So it throws her off guard when one night, Lexa shows up outside her door.
Lexa has a guard with her, of course, but he stays outside when Lexa comes in. They were supposed to meet tomorrow for lunch and Clarke worries that Lexa is here to tell her she can’t make it tomorrow.
“Are you cancelling our plans for tomorrow?” Clarke asks, and she realizes how pathetic she sounds, but Lexa is the only person she knows here. Her only friend, if that’s what they are.
“No, we can still meet tomorrow,” Lexa says. “I just didn’t feel like waiting until then.”
Clarke realizes that Lexa misses her. Clarke’s breath catches and she blushes, her entire body feeling the weight of Lexa’s eyes on her.
Clarke closes the space between them and kisses Lexa hard on the mouth, her arms wrapping around Lexa’s waist. Lexa kisses her back softly, slowly, her hand coming up to cup Clarke’s cheek. They kiss for a minute, Clarke trying to deepen the kiss, pushing against Lexa with urgency, while Lexa keeps pulling back, keeping the kiss chaste, mostly, despite Clarke’s best efforts.
Lexa pulls back and detangles herself from Clarke. She licks her lips and Clarke shivers at the sight of it.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Clarke,” and before Clarke can respond, Lexa has gone.
Clarke feels like the whole room is spinning, so she sits down. What the hell was that? Lexa was the one who came over here, made a small romantic gesture, and then she runs off when Clarke kisses her?
Clarke stays up half the night thinking about the kiss, wondering what she did wrong, and remembering how right it felt.
The next day, things are a bit awkward, but they don’t talk about the night before. Which is probably why it’s so awkward.
Before Clarke leaves, Lexa invites Clarke over to her place for dinner the next night.
“Really?” Clarke asks, because she was starting to think Lexa was never going to have her over. They met in what felt like secret, in this secluded garden, and at Clarke’s, which was lonely and removed from the rest of the world.
“I want you to see where I live,” Lexa says, and Clarke is overjoyed.
Clarke isn’t quite sure what she was expecting, but Lexa has prepared a feast. Or well, Lexa had someone else prepare a feast. Dinner is just the two of them in a much too large dining room. There are three different kinds of meat for Clarke to choose from. Clarke eats too much, and definitely drinks more than she should.
After a couple hours, she moves to stand up from the table and stumbles a little.
“I want to see your room,” Clarke says, her eyes wild and her lips red from wine.
“Okay,” Lexa says, and then they are heading into Lexa’s bedroom.
The room is massive but simple, clean. Lexa doesn’t have a lot of lavish decorations. Clarke plops down on Lexa’s bed and notices a drawing next to it. It’s a portrait, and Clarke immediately knows who it is.
“Costia,” Lexa confirms, and Clarke just nods and puts the picture back down on the nightstand.
Clarke realizes that she’s sitting on Lexa’s bed, and she’s very drunk, and Lexa is sitting right next to her.
Clarke leans in and kisses Lexa sloppily, missing half her mouth, and Lexa laughs.
“You’re drunk, Clarke,” Lexa mumbles against Clarke’s lips, but Lexa is kissing her back anyway, licking Clarke’s wine-soaked lips.
“I want you,” Clarke replies. Her hands are moving down Lexa’s body, and before they slip between her legs Lexa stops her.
“You’re drunk,” Lexa repeats and Clarke backs off in a huff.
“I wasn’t drunk last time I kissed you, and you still left,” Clarke challenges.
Lexa’s a little drunk too, and Clarke can tell it’s a real struggle for her to keep so composed.
“I wasn’t sure you meant it,” Lexa says, eyeing Clarke carefully.
“I did, I do,” Clarke says, but she’s slurring her words and she knows Lexa isn’t going to give in.
Lexa kisses Clarke again, just barely brushing their lips together.
“Stay the night, Clarke.”
Clarke is already falling back on the bed and pulling at Lexa’s arms, trying to get her to lie down, too.
Lexa doesn’t resist, and soon they are both on the bed, fully clothed, and under the covers. Lexa pulls Clarke against her and throws an arm over her hip. Within seconds, Clarke’s breathing becomes slow and steady.
Clarke wakes up with the sun, and Lexa is still asleep. She slips out quietly and makes her way back to her place. She knows her way around now, and she doesn’t want to deal with the aftermath of last night, and the awkwardness of waking up next to someone you wanted to have sex with but didn’t.
She takes a cold shower.
---
After that, Clarke and Lexa kiss a lot more. Not all the time, but sometimes. Clarke is almost always the one to initiate. One day, when Lexa is over at Clarke’s and they are looking at an artbook on Clarke’s couch, Clarke asks her why.
“Why don’t you kiss me?”
Lexa looks up from the book confused, placing it down on the coffee table and turning so her body is facing Clarke.
“We kiss rather often,” Lexa replies, obviously confused by Clarke’s question.
“I always kiss you, though,” Clarke says, embarrassed. “Except for the first time, before…”
“That time, you said you weren’t ready. I’m just waiting to make sure you are,” Lexa says.
“Obviously I’m ready. I keep trying to jump your bones,” Clarke jokes, but Lexa doesn’t find it very funny.
“I’m not sure that it’s always for the right reasons,” Lexa says, and she seems sad, and Clarke feels awful. She didn’t think it had been that obvious, how angry she still was, and how much she wanted to forget sometimes. Even if that wasn’t always fair to Lexa. Lexa never used Clarke to forget anything.
“Lexa…” Clarke starts, wanting to explain that she’s messed up, that it isn’t Lexa’s fault, not really.
“It’s okay, Clarke, I understand.” And Clarke is sure she does, because Lexa’s told her before about after Costia, about the many girls she slept with to try to not feel so alone. But it never worked, and Lexa never slept with any girl more than once.
Clarke knows that Lexa must not want this to be like that. She doesn’t want this to be a one time thing, something dirty you regret once you wake up and remember what you’ve done.
For whatever reason, Lexa does start kissing her more. But that’s where it always stops.
---
The first time they have sex is about a month after they first kissed.
Clarke has slept over at Lexa’s a few times, but mostly when she’s drunk, and Lexa won’t let anything happen. Sometimes they make out lazily before Clarke passes out.
But tonight Clarke is careful. She doesn’t really drink, so when she leads Lexa upstairs it’s not because she’s too drunk to go home.
They kiss for a long time, Clarke’s tongue pushing into Lexa’s mouth. Lexa is squirming beneath Clarke on the bed, her hips pushing up against Clarke’s. Clarke has one hand underneath Lexa’s top and she cups Lexa’s breast, her thumb brushing up against Lexa’s nipple.
“Clarke,” Lexa moans, and Clarke feels brave.
“Get undressed,” Clarke orders, and Lexa listens, undressing quickly. Clarke gets back on top of Lexa, still clothed, and moves her hand down Lexa’s now naked body. Clarke’s hand slips between Lexa’s thighs and Lexa actually whimpers. Clarke bites her lip, her breath hot against Lexa’s neck as she pushes her fingers against Lexa, who is so, so wet, and so incredibly sexy.
“I want to taste you,” Clarke whispers. She kisses down Lexa’s body, taking her time. Clarke pays attention to both of Lexa’s breasts, sucking on her nipples while she pushes her fingers inside Lexa. She moves her way down her stomach, kissing the scars there, scrapes her teeth across Lexa’s hipbone, and then kisses the inside of Lexa’s thighs.
Lexa is looking down at her with those green eyes, and Clarke thinks what she sees is love, but lust can look a lot like love sometimes.
Clarke licks at Lexa, her hands gripping Lexa’s thighs to keep them open as she presses her tongue hard against the slick heat between Lexa’s legs. When Lexa comes in her mouth, Clarke is shaking.
When Lexa tries to touch her, Clarke pushes her hands away. Lexa tastes so good, and that’s all Clarke wants to remember about tonight.
“Not tonight,” she says, and Lexa doesn’t push.
They fall asleep together, Lexa naked, and Clarke still shaking.
---
It’s another week before they end up in bed together. They are both naked, something that happened embarrassingly fast.
This time, it’s Lexa who is in control. She’s had enough of waiting, it seems.
Lexa’s hands have been all over Clarke’s body, everywhere except for where Clarke needs her.
“Lexa, please,” Clarke whines, her hips pushing up against Lexa’s. Lexa pushes Clarke’s legs apart and slowly slides one finger inside of her.
Clarke sighs and bites her lip.
“I want you to do it hard,” she says, unsure of how Lexa will respond.
Lexa pushes a second finger inside Clarke, and god, it feels good, Clarke thinks, but it’s not what she wants.
“No, harder,” she whispers, her hips rocking up, pushing down on Lexa’s fingers.
Lexa fucks her with her fingers, but she can tell Clarke won’t let go, won’t allow herself to enjoy it.
“What do you want, Clarke?” she asks, removing her fingers.
“I want you to make it hurt,” Clarke admits. She looks up at Lexa with shy eyes. “Maybe you could, um, hold me down, or maybe hit me?”
Lexa’s eyes go wide. “Clarke, I am not going to hurt you.”
“But I want to hurt,” Clarke says, her eyes filling up with tears.
“I won’t hurt you, Clarke. I love you,” Lexa says, and it’s the first time she’s said it out loud to Clarke.
“I don’t deserve it.” Clarke feels everything she’s been holding in crash down around her. She wipes at her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I don’t deserve to feel good. I don’t deserve to be happy, not after everything that’s happened. All the people who are dead, because of me…”
Lexa nods, understanding. She’s maybe the only person who could. Lexa reaches for Clarke’s hand and rubs her thumb along the back of it.
“No one deserves anything, Clarke. Especially not love. Love just happens, and it has nothing to do with who deserves it or what is right.”
“But you love me?” Clarke asks, and there’s a smile threatening to escape her lips.
“I love you,” Lexa says, and she pulls Clarke against her. Lexa trails kisses along Clarke’s neck, down to her shoulder and across her collarbone.
“Let me show you,” Lexa whispers, her mouth against hot skin.
“Okay,” Clarke breathes, her fingers tangling in Lexa’s long curls.
Clarke lets Lexa show her, and she thinks that maybe being loved isn’t always so bad.
---
Clarke settles into a routine with Lexa. Clarke starts cooking for her, and Lexa starts reading to Clarke at night, saying that she needs to keep up her English reading skills. But Lexa knows that Clarke loves the sound of Lexa’s voice, and she suspects that’s why Lexa does it.
Clarke also loves Lexa, and she tells her one night, finally, after Lexa lets her win a game of backgammon. Lexa always wins and Clarke suspects that she finally took pity on Clarke and let her have this one.
It’s been months since Mount Weather, since Clarke left her people at the gates of Camp Jaha. And she never thought it would be possible, but she’s moved on. Clarke feels ready.
And she knows it’s because of Lexa. Because of loving Lexa. Not that love has made her whole, but that love has made her crazy enough to move on and move forward. Love has made her push those terrible things to the back of her head. She still wakes up from nightmares every once in a while, but it’s not every day. And that’s progress.
So, maybe love is madness. Maybe it is Finn killing 18 innocent people for her. But love is also what kept Octavia alive and hidden for all of those years. Love makes you do crazy things, but it also makes you want to live.
Clarke wants to live again, and she knows it’s because she loves Lexa.
Soon, she’ll go back to Camp Jaha. She’ll face her friends, her mother, and herself, for what she’s done. Soon.
But first, she’s going to let Lexa love her some more. Clarke finally believes that she deserves it, even if that doesn’t matter.