That's something Lexa always hated. Black blood. It was meant to empower, it meant she was one of the few who could bear the possibility of becoming commander. But it made her feel toxic. When she grazed her knuckles as a child she spent ages scrubbing at the raw darkness blooming on her skin, only for it to become more bold, more prominent. Everyone was overjoyed at the unearthing of a new nightblood child. But Lexa just wanted to drain herself from the inside out.
Now, seeing Clarke's hands slick with the inky colour that is her blood makes her feel like she should have done just that, years ago.
Her favourite colour was always red. She couldn't help but let her eyes linger on the stains of the battlefield. It was never remorse she felt, she was curious. Lexa wonders what it would be like to to be laying there, roles reversed, red blood spilling from her wounds. It wasn't even just the fascination with blood that made it her favourite colour. It was the sap on the trees, the vibrant colour of lips that captivated her in a kiss.
Now, with Clarke's eyes holding her gaze, she wonders if red really ever was her favourite colour.
Lexa has always accepted death as part of her duty. She knew it was coming, whether it be two years or two days. But this was the fact that she failed to accept. The pain in Clarke's eyes, knowing that she is directly the one causing it. She wants to reach up and stroke Clarke's face, the next commander will find her. Hell, she'll raise demons in the next commanders mind if they don't completely abide by Clarke.
There's a foreign object buried in her stomach. Metal and unforgiving. But all she can think about is the slight pressure from Clarke's hands.
"You were right Clarke." She murmurs, the effort of the words leaving her lips exhausts her, making her whole body sink further into the bed.
"Life is about more than just surviving." Clarke's hands dig deeper into her stomach, seemingly to fight off Lexa's approaching mortality.
"In peace, may you leave the shore.
in love, may you find the next.
Safe passage on your travels,
until your final journey on the ground.
May we meet again."
Lexa thinks of the sea, the wind blowing in her hair. The sea glass she would almost cut her foot on. The sky overhead, that once was called a home. The waves lazily crashing up onto the sand, threatening to wash away anything that is and anything that once was.
Blue, it's all blue and the colour ignites something within her.
She gasps in a breath, fighting with the spirits of the past commanders who are calling for her to join them.
Her eyes close for a second, a sob chokes through the air and it takes her a delayed second to realise it was Clarke.
She shakes off the thoughts, willing the voices to clear from her head. She is the commander of all thirteen clans, she is the one that united them all. The next commander will fulfil her duties, but the next commander will never be able to─
Lexa slowly opens her eyes, blinking at the overwhelming brightness. She shifts to prop herself up slightly.
"I'm not leaving you, Clarke Kom Skaikru."
Tears roll onto her shoulder, as she steadies her breathing. Her eyes never leave the vastly coloured ones of the woman before her.
She wonders if red really ever was her favourite colour.