Chapter 7
Soon enough they were back in Polis, Lexa trusting that Indra and her other generals could handle the situation while the Sky People were setting up a new election. If the Skaikru felt any displeasure, none of them tried to intervene or attack. It seemed Lexa's forces and her threat were a strong enough deterrent. So, while they awaited the news of the newly elected chancellor – whose election Clarke had declined to supervise, feeling she was not enough Skaikru anymore – they had time for some well-deserved rest, in the safety of the Polis tower.
And so Clarke found herself drawing a Lexa asleep on Costia's lap, while the two healers talked in whispers so as not to wake her up. It was a scene of quiet and intimacy Clarke felt she was intruding upon. It was hard to focus on her movements, on committing Lexa's and Costia's perfect features to paper, especially when she was so troubled by the goings-on inside her mind. What was she thinking falling for not one, but two of the most powerful women in this world. The most powerful women. Standing there in one of the top floors of a tower that stood beyond reason.
In fact, against all reason, the world seemed to revolve around these women, and somehow, before she could prevent herself, Clarke had fallen victim to that pull. It would have been a sweet kind of pain, a pain she would have gladly given in to, were they not so obviously, painstakingly together. Both Costia and Lexa were more than willing to provide her with comfort, even intimacy, and maybe it was a case of different customs, but Clarke couldn't help it. She had to get the most of it, she had to stay, to help them, to give as much as she received - knowing very well that at the end of the line, she would never get as much as she wanted to give. And they must not see what effect they had on her, or they would not take advantage like that - it had taken her time to trust Lexa again, but she knew that much about her, she was faithful, and she loved Costia beyond words. The love these two bore each other, in fact, would often give Clarke the impression that her heart would melt, or perhaps break. She should be content that they had each other and were happy. But she could not. And even in an utopic world where their peoples were no longer at war, even in such a world where they owed nothing to their peoples anymore, there would be no world where Clarke Griffin has a place in their lives as they did in each other's. If they had said things they probably did not mean them to the extent Clarke wished to believe... and she could not afford such delusions. The Finn fiasco had given her enough heartache for a lifetime.
"What is it?" Costia whispered, concern clear in her voice.
"Hm?"
Clarke looked up, trying to act like she hadn't just stopped in the middle of their discussion, like a storm wasn't going on inside her head.
"You drifted off... Are you okay? Worried for your people?"
Clarke's eyes went from Costia to Lexa's sleepy figure. She shortly considered telling her everything - surely Costia would understand - but soon decided against it. They couldn't afford to let their private life come first. So she used the way out Costia was so kindly giving her.
"Well, at this stage I can't really say I trust they'll make the right decision, can I?"
"Maybe they'll finally see that we're not the enemy."
"I doubt that... Octavia will make a case for us - hopefully Lincoln and your men will be freed - but I wouldn't count on better than a kind of cold war between our clans. No, we won't be done with that just yet."
"Well, there's nothing we can do for now... I've got to tell you the same thing I always tell Lexa, you need to take time for yourself. You're not just the head of your people you know—"
"I'm not even that," Clarke let out, looking at her feet.
"I mean, you need to let go of your responsibilities for a while, sometimes. You can't save the whole world. You just can't. You do what you can, and sometimes, that starts with taking care of yourself. You've got to be a bit selfish sometimes."
Before Clarke could answer, Lexa startled awake.
"I mean it." Costia insisted, her eyes boring into Clarke's as if she could read her like an open book, before she snapped her attention back to Lexa. Again, Clarke felt like she was intruding, as Costia comforted Lexa from the nightmare she just had - but when Lexa threw her a pleading look, Clarke went to sit on the other side of her, a hand on her thigh to try and calm her down.
Clarke did not really believe that the previous Commanders were talking to Lexa in her sleep, but she clearly believed in it, and no omen of death was to be taken lightly. Still, Lexa had done nothing wrong, they had acted quickly enough, only a few were wounded and a revenge for them would come with the Skaikru's verdict on Pike and the rest. The past Commanders' warning felt out of tune with how content Lexa seemed with her foreign politics. She suddenly feared that things would go awry, or that her own people would rebel again, spurred by Nia's attempt and not discouraged by her death, and disappointed in Lexa's lax judgements, on multiple occasions, towards the Skaikru.
Clarke would have easily written that off as Lexa overworking herself and a translation of anxieties she wouldn't talk about, but Costia, the real healer of the two, didn't seem so convinced. They both really did believe in this whole ancestral legacy... She'd have to ask about it, but now was not the time. After a few moments of talking Lexa through it, they agreed that she should speak to her people - gauge any resentment and try to appease them. If she was willing to understand the Skaikru needed time to trust them and understand Grounder customs, her people may not be so enclined after the deaths they'd suffered at their hands since the first hundred of them crashed. But they all believed in Lexa, she had been chosen by the spirits of the former Commanders, she if anyone should be able to convince them.
By then, her breathing had gone back to normal, when all three of them were startled by a knock on the door.
Titus came in, followed by Lexa's guards, two of them carrying a crate between them.
"Pardon me, Heda, I didn't realise you were busy," Titus noted with a sharp look at Costia and Clarke. Costia shot him back a defiant look. So it wasn't just her the old man didn't like, Clarke noted. Clearly these two were at odds, but Clarke would bet Costia was the one with the upper hand. More sympathetic with Lexa, a better support to her but still a wise counsellor who didn't shy from saying the truth, better support amongst the people too, as a popular healer. But the politics of Polis seemed about as complex as that of the Ark, and she had no doubt the Flamekeeper had his own circles of influence.
"Are you going to tell me what's in the box or not?" Lexa asked, ignoring Titus's silent and unabating disapproval of the company she kept.
"A gift from King Roan, Heda", Titus announced. "For Wanheda. As a proof of loyalty to the coalition, and as an answer..."
Seeing their questioning looks, he ordered the guards to open up the crate, and a foul smell came out, before a body rolled on the floor. Scrunching up his nose, one of the guards turned the corpse around to reveal his face. At this stage, there was no point in checking for vitals. His throat was cut deep, and his face bore the marks of Ice Nation ritual killings.
"Emerson", Clarke realised. "So that's how they knew about the self-destruct mechanism..."
She did not know how to feel. This man had killed so many of her people, and his actions before had led her to commit acts that still woke her up at night. And yet, seeing his body... "Jus drein jus daun", the Grounders said, but his blood brought her no satisfaction. It would not bring anyone back. It would not fix her own actions.
"He will no longer be an issue", Costia whispered as she wrapped an arm around Clarke's shoulders. She silently nodded her thanks towards the healer, looking at Lexa for guidance. And pointedly not looking at the corpse leaking out on the floor. She had seen enough of those for a lifetime - and it was mere wishful thinking to hope she never would have to see one again.
"Can we send him to my people, Heda? It would be more proof of the Coalition's good faith."
She thought Titus's head would explode. "Heda, we've shown enough kindness to these barbarians, anything more would be—"
"This was a gift for Wanheda," Costia pointed out with a wry smile, her tone as calm and agreeable as usual. Oh she clearly had the upper hand on him, and judging by the look he shot her again, he hated every instant he had to spend in her presence.
"And I will not hear anything about Skaikru in such terms, Titus." Lexa definitely had on her Heda voice as she stared right at her counsellor. "Clarke is our guest. You will respect her as you respect me."
Titus was not the only one to gasp, the guards did so too. And Clarke realised, if it had been clear between them for a while, no-one had ever seen her as Lexa's equal before. She had been the enemy, the ally without an army who needed their help. Even Wanheda was a fugitive, before she became a subject. She may have been her people's leader, but they were part of Lexa's coalition. No-one knew of Lexa's swearing fealty to her. Now Skaikru was the enemy to beat down, and yet Lexa treated her with the respect given to an equal. An foreign ally's equally powerful chief, even if they both knew she had no control over her people. What is more, that she asked her guards to treat her with the same respect... Only Costia had that honour. She was given a unique place beside them. Just like a consort.
"Send the body with a messenger," Lexa finished, ignoring their behaviour.
As the guards bowed and left them alone, Clarke was left with that thought. They treated her like a consort. What she should make of it she had no idea, and if there was any kind of misunderstanding between them - she felt like she was using them, clinging to them and the perfect, almost symbiotic relationship she'd never have, but when she looked back on the past months, she had to admit... She should give herself some credit for knowing Grounder customs, having had "experience" with Niylah and having seen Octavia's relationship with Lincoln grow, and if they usually were more forward than that (did a kiss count? did Costia's words count? were they letting her set her own pace or was it just that the duty not to endanger political matters with their personal life took over?) Grounders, so far as she knew, did not lead people on. Trikru people had ethics, and surely by now the two women should have an inkling of Clarke's feelings.
Still, she did not know why they treated her so. Was it pity? Was it, precisely, not to hurt her feelings and their already fragile political stance? Because whatever their own feelings, they were already an item; there was no place for Clarke there.
The wise thing to do might have been to move on, to put an end to all of this, to withdraw until she could recover and be able to maintain the distance proper to friends. She would only hurt herself more down the line, she knew. And hurt them too, if what she suspected was right. She really did not want for that to happen, and yet...
And yet, she did not want to. Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was self-destructive, but in the words of a wise woman she knew, you've got to be a bit selfish sometimes.