It hurts. It hurts so much. Lexa has lived through so much, through more pains and injuries than can be counted on all of the hands of all of her people, but this? This is different. Because she can tell.
She can feel the blood. She can feel her life slipping out through her arteries. She can feel the black liquid pulling out her life force, seeping through Clarke's trembling fingers. "Don't be afraid," she tells her on staccato breath, trying to comfort Clarke, even though they both know that very little comfort will come.
Clarke promises that she will be okay. She just stares at Clarke, at the concern on her face, at the blood on her hands. She knows she will not be okay. She knows, however, that Clarke will.
And the heat and the shouting
She had frequently imagined her death. She had always imagined she would go out valiantly, protecting her people. She had survived so much, she felt cheated to be taken out by a bullet.
But only in her wildest dreams did she imagine that Clarke would be there.
And my heart is pounding.
Clarke is here. Her hands are on Lexa's wounds, trying to keep her lifeblood in her body, telling her over and over to fight, to stay with her. Lexa tries to tell her she can't be saved, but she can't find the words.
And my eyes are burning
And then Titus there. Titus is there and he is crying. "Forgive me, Heda," he pleads, and she looks into his eyes and sees the man who raised her, who raised her and trained her and advised her. She can feel his hands shaking as he held her face like her would when she was young.
She knows this man too well to be mad that he harmed her. She knows had he not been the shooter, he would have jumped in front of the bullet.
She makes him swear to never harm Clarke, and he does, and she can tell from the emotions in his voice that he will protect Clarke with the same ferocity with which he protected her, if only to honor her memory. He leaves her with Clarke.
And though the people around me
Clarke demands she stays with her, and she tries to reassure her, tries to tell her that her spirit will live on, that she will always be with her but she can't. Clarke won't let her. "I won't let you die," Clarke promises, and Lexa almost wants to smile at her stubbornness. "There's nothing you can do now," she states before trying to reassure her once more, "The next commander will protect you."
She can hear the edges of Clarke's breath catching as she speaks. "I don't want the next commander," she says, her lower lip quivering, and Lexa wishes there was something she could do, "I want you." Clarke starts to cry, and Lexa wants to cry too, because she hates to see Clarke in such pain.
Their mouths are still moving
She feels fingers on her wound, and looks up to see Titus beginning the ritual. It calms her a bit, knowing he is doing his duty, but she is also scared. Because she is dying. But, in a way, it is almost okay. Because Clarke is here, and Clarke loves her. She knows Clarke loves her.
She calls out to Clarke, because right now she needs her more than ever before. "Mi gonplei ste odon," she tells her, and she is crying, and Titus is crying, and Clarke is crying too. "No, no I won't accept that," Clarke replies stubbornly, and Lexa's heart goes out to her. She remember's the feeling when she saw Costia's head, her need to deny her death. She imagines that is how Clarke feels.
The words they are forming,
"You were right, Clarke. Life is about more than just surviving." Clarke shakes her head a bit, crying, and Lexa is unsure whether she is crying too, but she knows she doesn't need too. She is dying, but she is safe. She is where she needs to be. Titus stands over, protecting, promising to protect Clarke, promising to protect her legacy. Clarke is here, and Clarke is with her, and she is getting to say all she needed to say. And that is enough.
Clarke pets her hair, and begins to speak, some words that mean very little to Lexa. Skaikru funeral rites, she assumes. She just stares up into Clarke's watery eyes. She listens to her voice.
She is content. She is here, with Clarke, in love with Clarke. She is dying, but she is dying with those who love her.
Cannot reach me anymore
"May we meet again."
And it is quiet.
And I am warm.
Like I've sailed.
Into the eye of the storm.