Try Not To Mistake What You Have (With What You Hate)
"You just gonna stand there?" Bellamy asks her, smiling sadly.
"Maybe." She doesn't have it in her to pretend, so she's sure that she looks as miserable as she feels. It's isn't like anyone around her looks any better, frowns resting on all their faces. Murphy's got his back to everyone and she's pretty sure that she heard a few sniffles coming from him.
Bellamy opens his arms for her and she falls into them immediately, careful to make sure he doesn't feel the knife she's concealed in her sleeve. Her head lands under his, their knees crashing together. "I'm gonna be okay Clarke."
"You don't know that." She hears a fresh wave of sadness coming from Murphy. Bellamy must catch it too because she feels his Adam's apple bob painfully.
"It isn't like you aren't going to war too."
"I'll have backup."
"They won't even know I'm there."
"Hopefully."
He nods, "I'll be back soon. Just watch over Murphy, okay? And make sure to stop by the radio every once in a while."
"Raven's gonna be there."
This time Bellamy's smile is genuine. "She might be a little preoccupied," At her confusion he elaborates, "They found Kyle. He's the engineer she works with now. Everyone calls him Wick apparently."
Happiness that Clarke doesn't have to fake makes it's way to her face; she knows how long they've been searching for him.
Bell moves onto the last person in the makeshift line, Lexa. Her face reveals nothing as she stares at him. "May we meet again, Belomi."
He leans in even closer to her, whispering something that sounds suspiciously like "take care of her". But Clarke can't be sure, because O and Lincoln are in front of her now, holding hands as they promise to be back before the battle.
When her gaze returns to the two, Lexa's alone again; Bellamy back to holding Murphy.
Her mother and Kane give them a gun, just in case, and then it's over.
They're gone, taking chunks of her with them. All but two of her people, the delinquents, were out of her reach for now (maybe forever if this plan didn't work). Everything she'd done since they landed had been for the group, and here they were, slipping through her fingers all the same.
She sees Lexa looking at her in her peripheral vision. "Come with me." The commander whispers; voice is low enough for the warriors to not hear her, low enough for Clarke to be able to refuse if she wanted.
The blonde's gaze finds her mate's and she agrees before she can think better of it or even ask where they're going; the weapon she carries somehow the last thing on her mind.
'Where' turns out to be Lexa's tent, the two settling down in the chairs surrounding the table. They face each other; Lexa rigid as always, Clarke cross legged. She lets her head lean against the furniture, staring at the ceiling until Lexa speaks.
"You are not my first mate." Blue eyes snap to look at her.
"So I've heard." The blonde whispers as neutrally as she can, unsure of the Heda's emotions right now since her face remains as blank as usual.
Lexa nods at that, "I loved her."
"Why are you telling me this?" Clarke questions, not liking how much she already hurts for the woman in front of her.
"Because I know what it is to be weak, Clarke. I know how it feels, what it does." Her eyes shift to the blonde's bandaged arm, "I know how it ruins people." Lexa stands up, crossing the short distance to stop when her knees hit the front of Clarke's chair. Her hands grip the arm rests as she bends over, so close that the blonde feels her breath fan over her own face.
The room must double in temperature, Clarke's palms sweating so much that the commander's must feel it from where they rest, mere centimeters apart. "You don't look very ruined." Her voice wavers.
Lexa's eyes harden. "You do not know me very well, Klark Kom Skaikru. I was young and I thought I was invincible. Perhaps I was. But Costia was not. The Ice Queen took her, tortured her, cut off her head and then delivered it to me." She leans in closer, voice lowering. "Believe me when I say I was ruined. I made reckless decisions. I took risks that were not needed, I didn't take some that were. I had a duty to my people and for a long time I did not fulfill it."
"Are you saying that love is weakness? That I'm weak?" Clarke's face twists and neither are sure if it's from anger or grief. She sits up, placing her head at the same level as her mate's. The action nearly bumps their noses together and, God, Clarke hates how she can't breath.
"Love can be weakness, if you let it consume you. And that is what you are doing now. You're weak, Clarke, but you could be so much more."
The blonde feels the weight of the truth reside over her, but she can't help trying to defend herself. "I have not let--"
Lexa shakes her head and this time their noses do touch. "That is all you have done. You let your love of Finn break the sacredness of soul bonds. You knew he deserved to die and yet you gave him mercy that was not yours to offer; risking all of your people's lives. You let his death distract you. When Bellamy offered to do what was needed, you tried to stop him--even though it risked the lives of everyone in that mountain. And now," Lexa sighs, reminding Clarke of her mom, "you let love convince you to attempt a murder that would only end in war." Once she finishes, her hand swiftly reaches into the blonde's sleeve to pull out the weapon hidden there.
"You knew?" She asks, wide eyed.
"Of course, probably even before you did. You weren't very good at hiding it. Even Indra knows." The commander says, dark laughter in her voice.
Clarke's eyebrows knit together. "If you knew, why didn't you say anything?"
Lexa ignores her, pushing the handle into her grasp. "Do it."
"What?" The blonde blanches.
"There is a guard nearby who hates Skaikru, when you kill me Indra will have him framed. You have my word that you and your people will be safe."
Shock runs through Clarke as she tries to figure out why Lexa is doing this. She has to be lying, but she didn't think the brunette was. Lexa had always been upfront, after all.
When Clarke doesn't move, Lexa lifts the blonde's hand for her, pressing her own throat against the blade."I made you kill Finn. I was going to torture him. I just sent Bellamy to his possible death."
And Clarke does want to slit someone's throat--wants to make it as painful as she can. Tears rush to her eyes as she remembers the blood. Hers, Finn's, Raven's, Murphy's, Bellamy's. All of it on Lexa's hands.
"I don't regret any of it." She continues honestly.
"Lexa, just shut up." Clarke seethes.
"Is this not what you wanted? To kill me?" Lexa ignores her, even as the movement slices her throat slightly.
It's exactly what she wanted. But she can't seem to do it, even now, her fingers twitching uselessly against the handle.
But the thing is, she remembered the blood on her own hands. Hundreds of Lexa's people and even a few of her own. Charlotte, Anya, faces with names she would never know. It soaked her. She'd always tried to do what was right for her people and Lexa had too.
She had never wanted to kill Lexa.
She wanted to kill herself, this girl she didn't recognize but had somehow become anyway.
Her tears finally spill down her face as she throws the damn thing in her grip to her right, unconcerned as to where it ended up. "I can't do it."
The brunette finally straightens up, sitting back in her own chair. "I know."
"That's why you offered?" The blonde asked, too drained to be upset.
She only gets a smirk in response. "What if I had actually done it?"
This time Lexa shrugs, "Then today would be the day my spirit chose it's successor. But anyone who waits as long as you had no plans to begin with."
They let the silence cover them for a while. The pale morning turns into a snowy afternoon but Clarke stays as confused as ever. She didn't hate Lexa. She probably never had.
And where did that leave her? Where did that leave them? It wasn't as if Lexa could just forget that she had planned to kill her.
"Why'd you wait till now to tell me?"
"I was going to give you time to figure things out yourself but Indra thought it'd be best if you had a clear head before we get to Mount Weather."
It was funny how Clarke's head felt more foggy than it ever had before.
"So you...what? Don't care about anyone?" She asks, beating around the bush as curiosity got the better of her.
But the Commander saw right through it. "It's not that I won't ever love you Clarke, I just can not let you become my only priority."
The blonde blushes, not used to talking about feelings so nonchalantly. "Do you wish that I wasn't your mate?"
"This is a good mating for my people; it will stop war, prevent more casualties."
"And for you?"
"What is good for my people is good for me. Besides, we do not yet know each other, mate."
Clarke chuckles lowly, "I guess we don't, huh? I mean, I don't even know you're favorite color."
"I never saw the point of picking a favorite color." Clarke's shoulders slump a little at that. "But I suppose it would be blue. You both have blue eyes."
Lexa closes her own eyes, and Clarke suddenly feels like the brunette is closer to being centuries older than she is, rather than the measly year actually between them. "Were they like mine?" She finds herself whispering.
Her mate smiles, eyes still closed. "They were exactly like yours."
Costia had eyes like hers. Clarke files this information away with everything else she knows about the girl, which is admittedly not very much.
"Mine's green." Lexa doesn't ask why, but Clarke tells her anyway. "Up in space, I always dreamed of seeing real trees. I thought they were so beautiful. I drew them so much my mother would beg me to do something new."
"I'd like to see one of your trees one day." The blonde smiles, face lighting up. Lexa watches her and returns the gesture.
(Clarke almost forgets how to breath again. If she looked closer, she'd see how the quick rising of her mate's chest matches hers.)