#Clexaweek2020 Day 7

[100hearteyes]

Clexa Week 2020 - Day 7 - Free Day

(thank you @butmakeitgayblog for beta'ing and cheering me on 🙌 and @dreamsaremywords for helping me avoid the pitchforks and torches)

Read it on AO3.

–

Eventide

“Your Majesty?”

A queen did not start.

A queen did not get distracted while being courted by a handsome foreign duke, either, but Clarke had never been quite like her peers, for better and for worse.

She dragged her gaze from the horizon line and met the kind eyes of Duke Finneas; a boy who meant well but could never be her equal match.

Perhaps he too meant well. Though Clarke’s heart yearned for the kind of devotion he would give, her brain craved a wicked mind like hers. Someone just as brilliant and terrible as her.

Someone else.

“You are distracted today.”

He said it kindly, amusement clear in his voice, and Clarke hated him for it. Still she bowed her head, as she should, and blushed like the besotted girl she was supposed to be.

“My apologies, Finn.” He preened at hearing the sound of his nickname, as he had asked her to call him by it countless times before. “I sent the best of my Queensguard to the border and they are expected to return today. I can barely wait to hear whatever news they bring me. And I am… naturally worried about their safety.”

He smiled softly at her. “Few would be so concerned about the lives of those who are sworn to protect them. You have a noble heart, my queen.”

The irony almost made her smile.

--

The Captain of the Queensguard knelt before her, head bowed and a fist closed upon the left breastplate of ornate, light grey armor.

“As I am sure you remember, Your Majesty, your cousin, Earl Aden, lost both his parents to the harsh bite of winter this year. He has requested to spend the next winter with you, so as to avoid further tragedy.”

Clarke nodded, thinking fondly of the boy with unruly blonde curls and a gentle smile. “I shall make arrangements in that regard. Is there anything else?”

“Your Majesty, the rest of the information I bring you,” distrustful eyes landed on Prince Finneas, “is meant for your ears only.”

Clarke did her best not to roll her eyes. The Captain of her Queensguard was extraordinarily competent, dedicated, and brave, but had a drastic tendency to be dramatic. There was no need for such showmanship, yet the Captain seemed intent on fanning out feathers and strutting back and forth like a peacock.

“If you say so, Captain,” she conceded at last. “Would you care to accompany me to the balcony?”

The Captain stood up and the two of them strolled past the thick curtains that separated the throne room from a balcony that oversaw acres upon acres of beautiful, green fields and thick forests.

Clarke walked up to the railing, resting both her hands on it. At times like this, it was soothing to feel the rough stone under her palms, scraping at the fair skin.

It grounded her.

She steeled herself as she felt the Captain sidle in next to her.

“Did you have a safe trip home?”

Clarke felt more than she saw the Captain nod next to her. She hadn’t expected any different. When she glanced at the elegant figure next to her, she found the Captain’s gaze trained on the horizon.

“What sensitive information is this that you requested a private audience?”

Green eyes finally met her own, dancing with mischief and something else tender and forbidden. “Everything was in order while we were there.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “So you wasted your queen’s precious time to tell her everything is exactly as it should be?”

The sky was painted in broad, reckless strokes of pink and purple, and the sun had started to hide behind the skyline. The moon would soon take its place on the throne with the stars as her witness.

“I would not go so far as to say it was a waste of time.” The Captain’s tone was teasing, but laced with fondness. “I gave you the chance to see the sunset, I know how much you like it.”

Clarke liked the night best. It was at night that stolen moments were a solution rather than a problem and sneaking, when the palace was cold and silent, didn’t feel so scandalous anymore. Sunsets were the promise of night. A promise that just for a few hours, she could take the crown off her head, leave the corset on the bed, and be just Clarke. The girl in love with another girl.

“Your absence was felt.”

Lexa’s lips twisted minutely. When she spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “Be careful, my Queen. The walls have ears.”

The Captain’s cautious words were betrayed by the tips of long fingers brushing against Clarke’s on the balcony rail.

Their hands were concealed by coats and dresses, but Lexa’s touch was featherlight nonetheless. It still gave Clarke pause; her entire body’s focus was on the points where their skin came into contact and her heart was a fist banging at the doors of her chest. It wanted out, as it always had; it yearned to flee its golden cage and tell the secrets the walls around them would have killed to hear.

“The stars have eyes, too.”

“Luckily, they haven’t mouths to tell a secret.”

Lexa’s words may have been meant to be soothing, but they awakened Clarke’s mind. They reminded her of the boy in the throne room, of long walks along the palace gardens and the crown atop her head.

“Duke Finneas of Traisson will be staying at the palace for a few weeks. He has stated his intention to court me.”

It was only because she was so attuned to Lexa’s touch that Clarke felt the sudden absence of delicate fingers against her own, so light had the pressure been to begin with. Nevertheless, it felt like a stab to her chest. The world around her dimmed, colors became duller. Clarke felt trapped in a world in tones of grey.

“He took me to the orchards. It seems to be a popular spot for courtship.”

“What makes you say that?”

“We found this… carving on a tree. Very queer.” A smile played at the edge of her lips, teasing at more carefree times. She found it mirrored in the Captain’s clever eyes. “Couples ought to be more discreet, don’t you think?”

“They ought to.”

--

“Can a queen ever marry for love?”

The bench they sat on, made of stone only, wasn’t the most comfortable to perch on. However, the way the moonlight slanted and made the orchards look like a pathway to heaven more than compensated for a stiff behind. When she turned and saw how Lexa’s features looked in the same light — cheekbones sharper, lips fuller and eyes prettier than she had ever seen them —, Clarke realized she could spend days sitting on that bench, never moving.

Lexa looked like those otherworldly spirits mythology books told tales about, so impossibly, painfully beautiful one may turn to stone just from looking into her eyes. Clarke would’ve taken that risk. She would’ve dared never moving again for just one chance to bask in the glow of Lexa’s eyes. For all of the Captain’s aloofness and penchant for speaking as few words as possible, her eyes spoke loudest than any Clarke had ever seen. Their expressiveness… The way they could never hide what Lexa was feeling… Clarke had tried to replicate them on paper countless times, only to come up short. She’d usually get the shape, the lights, and the shadows right, but— something in those eyes was simply unrepeatable.

Human hands couldn’t recreate it. Lexa had been shaped by the gods, and her eyes were the map to eternity.

And Clarke was always oh so close to unlocking the secret, to reaching the summit, but something always pushed her off a cliff and sent her hurtling back to the ground.

“Love is weakness, Your Majesty.”

Clarke was used to the impact. It didn’t hurt any less. Still, she stood, then and again, and braced herself for the climb. One day she would make it to the top.

“And civilizations are fickle. History is ephemeral. We live and die and whatever mark we leave on this world can easily be erased by war and pillage. Love is forever.”

“It lasts only as long as those who feel it.”

“No,” she countered, stubborn as ever. “It lasts longer. Love is immaterial, it lingers in the air around us, beneath our breaths and through this life and the next. Castles and parchment stay here until someone burns them. Love travels with us to the afterlife.”

Lexa stood up without a word and waited for Clarke to do the same, before taking off on a brisk pace towards the castle.

Catching up to Lexa was neither easy nor dignified, but Clarke eventually fell into step with the Captain, who took pity on her and slowed her pace to a languid stroll. Now going at an appropriate pace for a queen, Clarke took her chance to admire the trees around her, with ripe fruit hanging from thin branches and pulling them towards the ground.

No matter the heights one reached, gravity always did its bidding and pulled one back to earth. Clarke felt its effect now. She had reached for the stars once and been pulled so violently back she’d lost her footing. Then again, and again, and again. Every time, Lexa was there to catch her fall. And Clarke would swear the earth had turned upside down, it had to have, for Lexa was the very stars she had been trying to grasp.

How lucky she was, to touch the stars without having to lift her feet off the ground.

It had only been much later in life, when she’d been told to find a husband or doom her kingdom to ruin, that Clarke had realized just how cruel it all really was — the stars would always be within her reach but she would never be able to catch them.

Why love a star if you cannot have her heart?

As they neared the edge, Lexa halted, eyes locked on a tree in one of the final rows. Clarke followed her gaze and felt her lips sketch an outline of a smile.

Feeling reckless, Clarke followed a short, but uneven trail towards the tree and laid a hand on the rough bark. Her palm grazed the bumps and ridges of an age old carving and she read the words without seeing them.

L + C

Feelings cut into wood a lifetime ago, indelible as they were immutable, able to endure generations for the robustness of their canvas. Only human hands could erase them; only human words could disprove them.

Clarke felt Lexa’s presence behind her and turned around, her hand never leaving its home. They shared a secret smile, although Lexa’s was somber as her eyes swept over the entire orchard. One of many trees. As if it ever fell, it could be replaced with another. The earth it drank from and gave its strength to, however, could not.

Clarke knew the knife was coming before it embedded itself in her heart.

“If we are to be judged at the gates to heaven,” Lexa started, voice not quite trembling, though thin and weighed down by regret, “let it be because I failed my heart rather than the people I am sworn to protect, above all you.”

Clarke knew that song from heart. Lexa would’ve died before being selfish and taking something, or someone, for herself. And Clarke would’ve given her the world, yet she couldn’t afford to relinquish the political hold on her own heart.

Clarke and Lexa held the axe in their hands and little by little they were chipping away at the trunk. Human hands and human words.

Lexa turned around, ready to return to the palace. She stopped only at the sound of Clarke’s voice, scraping like sharp claws against the walls of her throat. “One day they will weigh my heart and find it heavy with sin and regret. None greater than for allowing the world to convince me to let go of you.”

--

“Duke Finneas proposed today.”

Clarke could see Lexa stiffen despite the dim light. The Captain turned on her heels and approached the window, laying a quivering hand on the parapet, back turned to her sovereign.

It was unusual for the Queen to visit her Captain’s quarters. The rumor mill surely would’ve started running the moment Clarke stepped inside Lexa’s chambers if not for the circumstances they found themselves in.

Lexa’s room was as Spartan as could be in a royal palace. Moonlight shrouded it in mystery, much as it did its owner’s expression, whose features were unreadable from ten feet away.

Words weren’t a clue, either, when spoken blankly. “Have you given him an answer?”

Clarke desperately wanted to let the ensuing silence speak for her, but she knew she owed Lexa a proper answer. She, who helped take down their tree, should swing the axe.

“I said yes.”

For a moment, Clarke thought she saw Lexa’s knees buckle and she might collapse. However, the Captain stood tall and brave, and Clarke admired her so for her stalwart asceticism.

“I see.” Lexa’s voice was brittle, no more than a murmur, and it was only the grim silence that carried it to Clarke and cut her with it.

Clarke bled, and with the pain came resolve. She took a step forward, then another, and a third. A deep breath later, she’d gathered the courage to take the leap.

“It’s my last night of freedom. We could finally—”

“No,” Lexa interrupted, turning to face her.

The Captain’s tone left no room for discussion, but Clarke had never been one to be content with the space she was assigned. She felt the need to push the walls, expand the perimeter and win back the room she had been denied.

So she stepped closer even, broaching Lexa’s personal space. “I cannot fathom a world where I don’t know the taste of your lips.”

Lexa’s eyes shone with agony, as though Clarke had struck a dagger to her gut and was twisting, and twisting, and twisting. They were mere inches asunder, so close Clarke could feel Lexa’s shallow breath on her cheek. She couldn’t remember a time there had been less than the width of her crown between them.

“You can’t say things like that, Clarke. Not when—”

Lexa reached for Clarke’s face, but froze before allowing herself to touch. Her hand hovered, fingers yearning and twitching minutely above a pale cheek. “I shan’t let you disgrace yourself for me.”

Clarke closed her eyes, sighing, mustering the courage to lean away from Lexa’s absent touch and speak the words that lingered in the back of her mind since she’d said yes.

“Then I am letting you go.”

Lexa lowered her hand as though she’d been burned, but made no other motion to draw back. She remained steadfast as Clarke watched the questions flit across her eyes, all of them going unasked.

All but one.

“Why?”

Clarke swallowed, though it did nothing to untie the knot in her throat. “I am setting you free,” she husked, resisting the ever-present urge to take Lexa’s hands in hers. “I can find another captain, someone you would recommend. Just… Please go, Lexa. Find someone else. Love someone else. Be happy.”

This time, Lexa recoiled, face twisting with resentment. She would have looked less affronted had Clarke slapped her.

For once, Clarke wished the stars would bear witness to one of their trysts and grow mouths to yell at Lexa to go and never look back — to love someone else, anyone else. Someone who would not chain her to a love story without closure.

No great epopee ever ended with a broken heart.

“I will not leave, Clarke. I shall stay and see you married and love you like the day I carved my soul into a tree.” Lexa took a step towards her, closing the rift she’d created moments ago. Clarke counted the lashes resting on the elegant bow of her cheeks, long and dark and thick like the night that hid them from prying eyes and outstretched ears. Lexa’s lips were parted and Clarke would have given her kingdom to be able to brush a finger over the bottom one; to feel the supple flesh give under her thumb. Longing green eyes danced between Clarke’s own and dropped to her lips for just a moment, before once again plunging into pools of midday sky blue. “Who I love is not my choice to make. My heart has never been my own, Clarke. I believe you’ve held it in your hands since long before we were even born into this life.”

No great tragedy ever ended with a smile.

--

Clarke was dressed in white and gold when the letter arrived.

Amongst a thousand apologies, Finneas relayed about how he had fallen in love with one of her ladies in waiting and decided to run away with her before the wedding. Clarke would have felt humiliated, if she’d cared for anything except the way her heart sang for joy.

She was free.

Clarke all but ran up stairs and down corridors, towards the hall where she knew her most faithful soldier stood waiting and suffering, withering under the weight of their most dreaded day.

There Clarke found her Captain, and something about her (perhaps the light shining in from the window and setting her hair on fire or the way her eyes widened with concern when Clarke barged through the heavy double doors; maybe it was simply that freedom made everything look twice as beautiful) almost propelled Clarke to start crying a river at the mere sight of her.

So focused was she on the object of her adoration, Clarke didn’t register everyone else filing out of the room at the flick of the Captain’s wrist. It was but a coincidence that the moment the door closed behind the last intruder, Clarke fell to her knees at Lexa’s feet, taking flummoxed hands between her own. Her fingers trembled, but she had never felt so steady.

“He’s gone. He ran away with one of my maids.”

The stricken look on Lexa’s face — the tragic, mechanized selflessness — made Clarke love her just that little bit more. “Your Highness, I am so sor—”

“Don’t you finish that sentence, Captain, for I am not.”

Clarke brought Lexa’s hands to her lips and kissed the knuckles one by one, tasting the salt of her own tears. When she looked back up, she found them mirrored in Lexa’s eyes. “What will you do now?”

The question yanked a laugh from Clarke, wet with tears and husky with bliss. She brushed a kiss to long fingers and held Lexa’s burning gaze, unfaltering.

“I swear myself to you, my love,” she whispered reverently. “My heart is your heart, my soul is your soul. My life is now yours. I needn’t a ring to speak my vows.”

“Clarke, you can't—”

“I can,” she stated, pushing to her feet, “and I will. Let the people know I’m no less of a queen without a man at my side.”

If anything, she would have been less of a queen for not being brave enough to follow her heart, Clarke decided. How could she be expected to make hard decisions for her people if she couldn’t make them for herself?

“What about the throne, Clarke? Your kingdom needs an heir, or else it will be at the mercy of its enemies,” Lexa insisted, raising mountains across the road of Clarke’s dreams. “I will not accept that.”

Clarke’s will knew no boundaries or chokeholds however, and she’d weave roads around mountains and over precipices to meet her goals. This time, with or without witnesses, and despite the slumber of all stars but one, Clarke would finally make promises she could keep.

“I plan to train Aden to be king and appoint him as my heir. He will carry on the bloodline and keep the crown from falling into the wrong hands.”

She knew Lexa had a soft spot for the young Earl and would gladly help her broaden his shoulders enough to trust upon them the burden of sovereignty. Meanwhile, Clarke would be so powerful and so ruthless none would dare question the absence of a king consort. Human hands and human words bore the power to devastate, but also to mend what was broken and etch new life into faded vows.

She looked out the window; the sun was setting, hanging new oaths on the sky and yielding up its holy perch for the moon to take. Sunsets held the promise of tonight, when a lifetime’s worth of dreams could finally become true.

Lexa’s voice pulled her focus back to the present. “If this worked… How would I fit into it?”

Clarke had always been bravest at eventide.

With hands that no longer hovered, she grabbed the back of Lexa’s neck and reeled her in for a kiss.

[agender-void]

She loved me when everyone else hated me.

She acknowledged my efforts when everyone else blamed me for everything.

She belived in me when even I didn’t belive in myself.

She looked at me with awe when everyone else looked at me with disgust.

She loved me too early and I loved her too late. 

For that I lost her and with her died the part of me who wanted to live.

[eris223]

Read My Mind

Clarke’s been crushing on the hot bartender for months, years even, but she’s never actually had a real conversation with her. Not like that’s stopped Clarke’s mind from running wild, fantasizing about a life and… other things with Lexa freaking Woods.

And when said hot bartender interrupts Clarke’s magnificent mind reading trick to win free drinks from her friends, she’s forced to actually talk to the woman who constantly runs through her mind…

This should go well.

Read on ao3.

[kloxbian]

Promises Painted on my Skin

Synopsis: 

Lexa felt her heart go out to her. Clarke’s face was a scattering of dark bruises, blood leaking from a split lip. Her cheeks were swollen red and her eyes, the color of a fading sky, darted around nervously, looking anywhere except Lexa’s face.

Tears pooled in Clarke’s eyes, tears that she fought to contain but a single one dripped down her cheek. Lexa brushed it away, careful to not pressure any of her bruises. “Oh, you poor, sweet girl,” she breathed. “You deserve better than this.”

-

Or the canon-divergent AU where Bellamy's an abusive bastard and Clarke is the innocent victim

WARNING: This fic contains mentions of physical and emotional abuse. If this makes you uncomfortable, don’t read.

Notes:  Okay, now, I would have done a better job with this if I didn’t finish five hours before it was posted. I wanted to lengthen it, and may eventually, but I already have many other things to write, so it won’t happen for at least a few more months, if at all.

A bit disappointing that Clexa Week is over. This is my first time joining, and I’ve really enjoyed it. I’ll definitely be back next year. A few of the things I’ve written are fics I never would’ve written otherwise. I’m very happy I finished it all.

Thanks to everyone who read my fics, as well as to @clexaweekofficial​ for hosting and sharing Clexa Week. You’re amazing.

-

 The two riders swerved between the trees, the sunlight shining brightly through the leaves illuminating the golden hair of their target. She didn’t look up at the sound of the horses, standing in place, her body shaking. One of the men scoffed. “Dison laik gada yu’s krei fir raun hashta (This is the girl you’re so worried about)?”

 “Em laik Skaikru. Heda na gaf em (She’s Skaikru. The Commander will want her).”

 She didn’t fight back as a rope was tied around her wrist. The rider scoffed, looping the other end around the horn of his saddle. “Kwelen (Weak).”

 “Emo Skaikru laik (All Skaikru are).”

 They turned to ride back to TonDC, a sky-fallen girl with shining golden hair behind them.

 -

 Lexa twirled her knife in her hands, sprawled lazily in her throne. The scouts were supposed to be reporting back any minute now and she frowned at wasting this time waiting instead of being able to go over her duties.

 To her right, Anya was leaning against the sturdy canvas of the tent. “If you keep playing with your weapons, Heda, you’re going to cut your fingers off.”

 The guards standing at the door of the tent shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke so casually to the commander, and when someone did, it was expected that they’d be cut down. But this was Anya. She did what she wanted.

 “If I do then you’ll be the one writing everything down for me.” Anya scoffed, looking at the sprawl of papers across the planning table. Anya was not very adept in her written language, and Lexa knew that well.

 A guard ducked into the tent. “Heda, the scouts have arrived. They bring a Skaikru with them.”

 That piqued her interest. “Send them in.”

 He backed out and moments later two scouts came in, throwing to the ground a young girl. “Heda, we found her wandering the territory alone. She was miles from her camp.”

 Lexa let her eyes linger on the girl, examining her. She was frail, skinnier than even a babe, bones jutting out of her bruised, worn skin. Her clothes hung off of her and her shoes were nonexistent, feet bloody and scraped from wandering the forest. Her golden hair, dirty and matted with mud, obscured her face from view. She didn’t move from where she’d been tossed.

 Lexa raised an eyebrow at the scouts. “Is she alive?”

 “She walked here on her own two feet. Didn’t try and fight or anything.”

 Lexa nodded, turning her eyes back to the body at her feet. “What’s your name, Skaigada?”

 She shifted then, rolling to sit on her legs. Her head stayed bowed and when she spoke, her voice was quiet and raspy. “Clarke.”

 “What were you doing outside of your camp alone?”

 She jerked, her body going stiff. “I wasn’t doing anything, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, please don’t hurt me, I-”

 Anya stepped forward. “We’ll only hurt you if you don’t answer the question!” She barked. Clarke looked up sharply, hair lying in waves over her cheeks. She shrank back, curling in on herself. “Well?”

 “I wasn’t doing anything wrong, I swear!” Her voice was small and scared, pathetically weak. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me, I didn’t mean to-”

 “Heda, this girl is mad,” Anya hissed, leaning in close to Lexa. “She will not tell us anything. Let me kill her and be done with it.”

 “No.” Lexa didn’t believe that. Anya called this girl - Clarke - mad, and perhaps she was, but Lexa refused to believe it. She’d heard of such cases as these, dealt with the aftermath of them, but she’d never seen anything quite like this. Clarke had no defense for herself, begged, pleaded to not be hurt, that she had been doing what she was supposed to, that he had been obedient. She acted like a dog, one that knew nothing other than obedience to its owner.

 “Onya, Gona, gyon ou.” The guards bowed and followed her command, exiting the tent without a word. Anya sent her a questioning look, one that Lexa returned with a fierce glare. Obey. Anya bowed her head and left.

 Lexa stood from her throne, stepping off the small dais. Clarke ducked her head, repeating the mantra over and over again.

 “Quiet.” Her voice was loud and commanding, stopping the young girl in her tracks. She bowed even lower, her face almost against the floor. She immediately felt guilty. Lexa crouched down in front of her. “Are you alright?” Clarke nodded, staying hunched down low. “Can you look at me?”

 She did as was asked and Lexa felt her heart go out to her. Clarke’s face was a scattering of dark bruises, blood leaking from a split lip. Her cheeks were swollen red and her eyes, the color of a fading sky, darted around nervously, looking anywhere except Lexa’s face.

 Lexa slowly undid her pauldron and jacket, realizing how her intimidating attire wasn’t helping the situation and wished she wasn’t decked out in warpaint and armor. “What happened to you, keron? Why are you colored so?”

 Clarke began to visibly shake. “I was bad. I deserved any punishment he saw fit.”

 “What did you do?”

 Clarke once again lowered her head. “I ate too much food. He said that it could have fed someone more in need of it instead of a- instead of me.”

 “Why did you take more food?”

 Clarke’s shaking got more violent and she bit her lip. “I was hungry. He only gave me a piece of what everyone else was having and when Octavia and Raven offered me more I thought- I thought it would be okay.”

 Lexa’s heart broke. She reached forward, hesitating before gently resting her hand on Clarke’s cheek, coaxing her head back up. Her entire body trembled, torn between accepting the touch or rejecting it. Clarke stood still, though, taking whatever was given.

 Tears pooled in Clarke’s eyes, tears that she fought to contain but a single one dripped down her cheek. Lexa brushed it away, careful to not pressure any of her bruises. “Oh, you poor, sweet girl,” she breathed. “You deserve better than this.”

 Clarke looked nervously at her face, opening her mouth as if to speak but thinking better of it. Lexa dropped a hand from her face, delicately taking Clarke’s own. “You can speak freely.”

 She bit her lip nervously. “What’s going to happen to me? Are you going to send me back?”

 “I will if you want to,” Lexa said, not even thinking about what her generals would say about it. “But I’d like for you to stay here. You shouldn’t have to go back to anyone who treats you like this.”

 “NO!” Clarke squeezed her eyes shut, fingers hesitantly linking with hers. “No. Please don’t send me back. I don’t want to go back.”

 “Then you won’t,” Lexa said, ducking down to look Clarke in the eye. “You’ll be safe here. I promise that whoever did this to you will never touch you again.”

 Clarke took a shaky breath in and nodded. “Thank you.”

 Lexa smiled, watching Clarke smile back, though it didn’t reach her eyes. It was nothing more than polite. Lexa vowed to kill whoever would dare do such a thing to this sweet girl.

 “I thought…I thought I was supposed to meet the commander,” Clarke croaked. “That’s what those men said.”

 “The scouts, yes.” Lexa stood, offering a hand down to Clarke. She took it, still quivering slightly. “And you have.”

 “I have…” Clarke looked at the throne behind Lexa and her eyes widened. She stumbled back, falling back down to her knees. “I’m sorry, commander, I-”

 “No no no, be quiet, sweet girl,” Lexa rushed over to her. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you, and I’ll make sure no one else does either.”

 Clarke’s eyes held some of the same feral instinct they had earlier. “But- why?”

 “Because you don’t deserve what’s been given to you.” Lexa helped her to her feet, tracing the bruises on her face ever so lightly. “No one deserves this. To be owned. I want you to have a chance to be yourself, keron.”

 “I-” Clarke began to cry, pulling away to wipe furiously at her tears. “Thank you. I promise I’ll be good.”

 “Don’t think like that.” Lexa took her hands once more, rubbing them soothingly. “You don’t have to please anyone here. Yes, there are rules you will have to follow, people you will have to obey, but you will not be punished for being hungry nor anything so meager.”

 Clarke nodded, her stomach growling at the mere mention of food. Lexa gently released her hands. “Come, sweet girl. I will get you food enough that you won’t want to eat for days.”

 -

 Lexa knocked lightly on the poles that held up the tent she’d set Clarke up in. She heard a quiet acknowledgment from inside and ducked beneath the tarp.

 Clarke was sitting on a small wooden table that had been set up in the corner, staring at the fur-covered cot. There were heavy bags under her eyes that had only gotten worse since yesterday.

 “Good morning, Clarke,” Lexa greeted, standing a few feet away. “Did you sleep well?”

 “Fine.” Clarke’s voice was dry and cracked. Lexa frowned, stepping closer. Clarke held up a shaky hand. “I’m fine. Really. I’m just… not used to it.”

 Lexa cocked her head. “Not used to what?”

 “This.” Clarke waved her hand at the bed. “Having comfort, and having it all to myself. At the dropship, and even before that, I never had anything this good. Not anything that was mine.”

 “If you would rather a different arrangement I would be happy to find something more suitable for you.”

 “No, this is fine. It’s just different. I’ll get used to it.” Clarke looked over at Lexa for the first time since she’d stepped into the tent. “Thank you, commander. This is the most anyone’s ever done for me.”

 “Of course, sweet girl.” Clarke blushed slightly at the name, eyes flickering from Lexa’s face to the ground. “And please, call me Lexa. Just when we’re alone.”

 Clarke’s blush deepened and she nodded. Lexa smiled. “Come sit on the bed with me. It’s time we talked about what you will be doing.”

 Lexa gave her a quick overview of the Trikru and TonDC, laying out the do’s and don’t, what was considered offensive and appropriate. The rules were laid out, also quite simple, and Clarke sat in silence, listening intently. She was determined to fit into this new environment, where she was being given a chance to start over without a neglecting parent and overbearing ‘friend,’ though being with Lexa she was beginning to realize that he was not someone she should consider under that term.

 “The question I pose to you is what do you want to do?” Lexa asked. “If you want to become one of us, you will need to earn your keep. There are many ways to.”

 Clarke shrugged. “I was the healer back at the dropship, and my - my mother is a doctor.”

 “You are a fisa.” Lexa nodded. “We could get you set up with Nyko if you wish to continue pursuing that here.”

 Clarke bit her lip, chewing on it thoughtfully. “I want to, but would that be all I would do? I don’t want to be cooped up in a hospital all day, even if it is to help people.”

 Lexa rolled the word hospital over in her head a few times before she realized it meant their infirmary. “I suppose we could try and find someone willing to train you half-time. Though I warn you, it may eventually reach a point where you will be forced to choose between one or the other.”

 Clarke exhaled slowly. “What are the options?”

 “There are many. The most abundant are the gona, our warriors, defenders, guardsmen. I hope we will not have so many in the future now that all the clans are at peace but there are still many threats.”

 “Like my people?”

 “Sha, like the Skaikru. And the Maunon.” Lexa folded her hands together on her lap. “A few of the other jobs you could take around TonDC include a merchant, cook, seamstress, stonemason, and a wide array of different crafts. We’d have to teach you our language before you could find a mentor, as only the gona can speak gonasleng, but whatever you like we could find a job for.”

 Clarke tapped her fingers nervously on her thigh. “Your warriors, what exactly do they do?”

 Lexa cocked her head, pleasantly surprised to find the girl looking into a gona. “They do many things, some depending on how good of a fighter they are. We have guardsmen who take shifts standing at the gates, regulating trade and keeping watch for any potential threats. There are the personal guards like mine, who are assigned to a figure of power and it is their duty to keep that person defended. Some that are more adept with long-range weapons will help to hunt. If you were to take on the role of a gona, if there ever was a large conflict you would be called upon to fight.”

 Clarke’s face was scrunched up in thought. “This… might be a bit much to ask, but could I be taught to fight without officially becoming a warrior?”

 “That is not at all much to ask. There are many gona who only fight when called upon, and have duties as craftsmen or merchants when not required. It would be a good match if you don’t want to commit to a full-time job as a healer, and would do well to fill up your time.”

 Clarke nodded. “Then that’s what I want to do.”

 Lexa smiled. She was proud of Clarke despite only knowing her for, well, less than a day. She still had a strong spirit within her, one that, with the proper care, could rise to the surface and ignite. Lexa felt that learning how to stand up for herself physically was the perfect start for her. “Good. I have someone in mind who I think you would like.” Clarke smiled shyly at her and Lexa couldn’t help but grin back. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have another question to ask you.”

 “What is it?”

 Lexa squeezed her hands almost painfully tight. “I am only here in TonDC to deal with the Skaikru. Once a decision has been made about how to deal with them, I will be returning to the capital to rule. You don’t have to decide now, but I would ask if you’d like to accompany me to Polis and make a home there. It’s much larger, and has many more opportunities.”

 “Where is it?”

 Lexa dared to hope. “It’s about a four-day ride to the east. We would be going further from the ‘dropship,’ I believe you call it. If Skaikru were to cause trouble, you would be less likely to have to deal with it in Polis than here.”

 Clarke nodded. “Then yes. I want to go.”

 Lexa frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want more time to consider? You can decide closer to my departure.”

 “I’m sure. I want to be as far away as possible.”

 “Okay.” Lexa smiled shyly. “We’ll depart once Indra and I have agreed on how to handle the skai people. For now,” she stood from the bed, offering a hand down to Clarke. “Would you like to break your fast with me?”

 Clarke nodded, hesitantly taking Lexa’s hand. She squeezed it tight as she led her out of the tent, releasing once back out in public.

 Clarke scampered after her nervously, looking around warily. “There are so many people.”

 “There are many people in the tribes, and Trikru is the most populous.” She took in Clarke’s anxious expression. “I promise that everyone here is loyal to me. You will not be harmed.” Clarke nodded.

 Lexa took them into the pavilion, ignoring the elevated table meant for her and the other generals, sitting herself and Clarke down in a secluded corner after snagging two plates of food. “If you wish, I can have you start on your training after we eat.”

 Clarke perked up at that. “Which one?”

 “Whichever you like. It is early, so the infirmary would be slow and Nyko would have time to teach you our ways of healing. If you’d rather start the physical training, I can have your planned mentor brought in.”

 “Planned mentor?”

 “Yes. There is a certain person I have in mind who is adept at combat but is one of the kindest, most gentle souls I know. He looks a bit intimidating, but I think you will like him.” Lexa’s mind wandered. She hadn’t seen Indra’s son (she was still unsure of whether it was biological or adoptive) since her last checkup almost a year ago. It would be nice to catch up.

 Clarke shifted, looking uncomfortable with answering. “Can I do the physical training first?”

 “If that is what you want.” Lexa hated how uncomfortable Clarke seemed with making the decision herself. She wondered how long it had been since she’d been able to do so.

 She would fix this broken girl. Even at the sacrifice of her heart.

 -

 Lexa was in the middle of explaining all the different weapons to Clarke when she felt her draw in closer, her breath accelerating.

 She turned to see Lincoln entering the arena, still in his scout outfit. He dipped his head politely to her. “Heda.”

 “Hello, Lincoln. Lovely to see you again.”

 He smiled. “The pleasure’s all mine, sister.” 

 She felt Clarke press herself as close to Lexa’s side as she could without actually touching her, talking so quietly Lexa had to strain to hear. “He’s your brother?”

She smiled at that. “Brother in all but blood. Lincoln and I grew up together.” She looked back at her friend. “Lincoln, this is Clarke. She comes from the Skaikru, but I have agreed to accept her under my command.”

Lincoln frowned, switching to Trig. “Choumoda, Heda? Yeson yu don gaf emo in ste daun (Why, Commander? Yesterday you wanted them dead).”

She clucked her tongue, considering telling Lincoln of Clarke’s situation. She knew he could be trusted with it, but would Clarke want him to have it? Likely not. “Em laik noseim. En’s nou get yu daun (She is different. It’s not your concern).”

She changed back to English for Clarke’s sake. “Lincoln, I’d like to ask if you could help train Clarke in the ways of our warriors. She is inexperienced from her time with the Skaikru and wishes to learn.”

“I’d be happy to teach her.” He looked at Clarke, smiling politely. “Hello, Clarke.”

Clarke eyed him warily, muttering a quiet ‘hello.’

Lexa turned to her. “Clarke, this is Lincoln. He may be large, but he is very gentle and wouldn’t ever hurt you. If it’s okay with you, I’d like for him to be the one to train you. He is one of the few I trust.”

Clarke stared at him for a minute, wide-eyed and afraid, before mumbling a quiet “okay.”

Lexa smiled. “Wonderful. If you would like to begin now, I can stay for a bit longer to watch.”

Clarke nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Alright then. I’ll stay a bit longer.” She turned to her friend. “Lincoln?”

“I will train her whenever you require of me.” He dipped his head respectfully to her.

“I know you will.” Lexa gave Clarke one last smile before departing from the arena, leaning against the side railings to observe.

It was a process, but they’d push through it.

-

Their swords clashed with a fly of sparks.

Clarke slipped under her opponent’s sword, darting to the left and letting them stumble forward with their momentum. It only took them a second to rebalance, spinning to block Clarke’s swipe from behind.

Clarke danced back, just barely avoiding a leg aiming to knock her down. She dodged every slash and stab, keeping on the defense, never making a move. She knew that her opponent was getting frustrated.

She rolled beneath a swing at her shoulder, contorting herself to kick them in the back of the knee. It gave out and sent them to the ground.

Clarke was on her feet in an instant, driving her sword down. They twisted out of the way, lunging up and grabbing Clarke by the wrist. They began to twist and Clarke cursed aloud as she dropped her sword, lashing out with her foot and hitting them in the stomach. They lurched forward slightly before they were rising back to their feet, and Clarke looked at her sword wistfully, knowing she had no time to retrieve it. She’d have to do without.

Her opponent’s blade was coming back toward her. She smacked it away by the flat, moving closer and throwing a fist. They caught it in their free hand, a foot wrapping around her ankles and sending her flat on her back. The cold metal fell against her neck before she could move. “Set yu daun.”

Clarke put her hands above her head. “Ai giv op.”

The blade left her throat and she heard the sharp shriek of a sword being sheathed. A hand came into her vision, one which she gladly accepted. “You did well, Clarke. That’s the longest time yet.”

She preened in her mentor’s praise. “Mochof, Onya.”

“Indeed. I have no doubt you could hold your own against any esteemed warrior.” Clarke smiled widely as Lexa wandered into the arena, greeting Anya with a firm clasp and returning Clarke’s beaming smile.

Clarke smirked. “Even you?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go quite that far.” 

Clarke scoffed in mock annoyance, appreciating Lexa’s quiet laugh. At the far end of the arena, there was nobody near enough to witness their commander drop her mask in front of her mentor and companion. “Oh, don’t you get egotistical too. Anya’s already too much to handle.”

Anya grinned, pointing the end of her knife (who knows where it came from) at her. “You’re spichen right, and you’d do best to remember it.”

“Just don’t train her too well,” Lexa teased. “You might make her better than you.”

“Oh, please, I’ve learned from that mistake. You’re bad enough.” They laughed, falling into step walking side by side back toward the tower, Clarke proudly flanking her Heda’s side.

She, Lexa, and Lincoln had left TonDC to travel to Polis only a week and a half after Clarke’s arrival. The Skaikru, it was decided, were to be given clear boundaries not to cross. Guards patrolled along the river, keeping them away from the mountain and the capitol. Due to their proximity to the Mountain, there were no villages in the opposite direction and the Skaikru were forced to expand in that direction, leaving the Trikru safe for now. If they were to retaliate, the offenders would be taken prisoner and punished accordingly.

Clarke had fallen in love with Polis and its culture. Lexa, despite her many duties, took the time to teach Clarke as much as she could about the tribes, the customs and folklore, as well as their language. Trigedasleng wasn’t a hard tongue to learn, but it was harsh and took her mouth time to adjust before she could produce some of the rougher sounds.

She’d come to see Lexa as her dearest friend. Even if she was the commander, a legendary force spoken of as more goddess than human, she’d shown Clarke her other side, the side of her that had survived the burdens of leadership. Her youthful, innocent side was what a twenty-year-old should be like. She took responsibility for Clarke, not in the way Bellamy had, but in the way of a caretaker. She’d thought she loved before, but Lexa was so much more.

When Lincoln had exhausted his skills, she’d been tossed around by multiple people until Lexa convinced her to give Anya a chance. Anya was tough, but she knew what was too much, and she had also been given a very watered-down version of the blonde’s story. With knowledge of Clarke’s past, she took certain measures to make her disciple was comfortable.

She had also settled in well as a healer’s apprentice. Her foreign medical skills had proved beneficial to expanding their capabilities, though it wasn’t always easy to replicate considering they were much more underdeveloped technology-wise. She’d met many people through that apprenticeship and was very recognizable as the quiet healer; especially with how vibrant her hair was. 

The most vocal opposer to her position was, of course, Titus. But nobody really cared what he had to say.

Anya split off from them in the tower, heading off to meet with the official Trikru ambassador (Both Lexa and Indra had wanted Anya to have the position, but it would be viewed as biased by the other clans) while Lexa led Clarke to her personal quarters. She called for a meal to be brought to them and they both sat down on the couch.

“Clarke,” Lexa said, her voice serious. “A letter arrived from Indra earlier today. It’s about the Skaikru.”

Clarke stiffened. Lexa reached over to tangle their hands. “She wrote that they approached the border, asking for an audience. It was granted, and Indra met with them personally. She said they’re asking for our help to survive, but don’t have anything to offer in return. She would take them in as one of her people, but they refuse, asking to stay separate from us.” Lexa tightened her grip on Clarke’s hand. “I’m telling you this not only because they are your origin, but because Indra’s asked permission to forward them to me. And I accepted.”

Clarke was silent. Lexa squeezed her hand, worried about how she was dealing but not willing to push her. After a moment, she spoke. “Who?”

“There is an Oktevia, Reivon, Montee, Jeisper, and Belomi.” Lexa heard Clarke’s breath falter, watched her eyes widen, and pleaded to the spirits it didn’t mean what she thought it did. But it did. She knew it did. So she let go of Clarke’s hand, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and tucking her into her side.

Lexa sat there rubbing her arm for a few minutes, pressing soft kisses to her hair, before muttering, “Clarke?”

She said nothing. Lexa tried again. “Sweet girl, are you alright?”

Despite her anxiety, she felt her stomach warm at the pet name. She shook mutely against Lexa’s chest. Lexa rested a hand on her cheek, kissing her temple long and slow before resting her cheek on her head. Letting Clarke work out what she needed.

It took time, but eventually, Clarke tried to talk, only to dissolve into choked coughing. Lexa didn’t falter. “Which one?”

She had to take a couple of deep breaths to reign herself in. “The last one.”

“And the others?”

Reivon - Raven, probably - she didn’t know, but the others… “Octavia and Monty were always nice to me. They tried to help when they could, but he had the support of most of the camp. They’d back him up if anyone ever challenged him.” Her mind drifted back to her two friends, smiling slightly. If there was anything she missed from her old life, it was them. “Jasper was nice, but he was too afraid to do anything about it. He would just stand there and watch.”

Lexa scowled. “He is a coward. Just as most of them are.”

Clarke nodded, remembering back to when Jasper had been speared in the chest, the panic that ensued. “On the Ark, they’re still children.”

“Branwodas,” Lexa scoffed. “Even a yongon knows right from wrong.”

Clarke shrugged. “Some of them do.”

The affection in her voice made Lexa pause. “You mean Oktevia and Montee?”

 “A couple others, too, but yes.”

“Would you like me to arrange for them to meet you? I know you could seek them out yourself, but if you’d rather not risk the others…”

Clarke smiled. “I think I’d like that.”

“Then I will make it happen.” She leaned down, nuzzling her cheek. “I will be there if you need anything, and there is no one in Polis who would let anything happen to you. You will be safe.”

Clarke nodded, turning to bury her face in Lexa’s arm. She smiled softly, stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she mumbled into her skin.

“Anything for you, sweet girl.”

-

The day the Skaikru arrived, Clarke didn’t leave her room.

Lexa visited her the following morning. Clarke was curled up in the armchair, her sketchpad resting on her legs. She wasn’t drawing, only staring at a blank white page.

Lexa leaned down behind her, kissing her cheek. “You cannot stay here all day.”

Clarke’s voice was quiet, broken. “What if he tries to take me back?”

“He could never.” Lexa wrapped an arm around her chest. “You are so much stronger than you were. Should he try, you could shame him enough that he’d never want to see you again. You are strong.”

She could see that Clarke was still hesitant. “If it makes you feel better, I can ask Anya or Ryder to accompany you around the city.”

She bit her lip. “Please?”

“Of course.” She stood up. “Come to breakfast with me. The Skaikru won’t be there.”

Clarke nodded, tilting her head back. Lexa leaned down to kiss her on the lips, leaving it at a quick press. She heard her groan as Lexa moved over to the door, laughing. “Come enjoy breakfast and I’ll give you more.”

Clarke set her items down on the chair, not bothering to put them away properly. Lexa grinned widely at her, sharing one last short kiss before she slipped into commander mode, all emotion falling from her face. With her kohl on (all for the intent to scare the Skaikru) she was a terrifying figure, but Clarke could see through it all. Beneath all the armor and strength was her loving niron who’d taken her in without anything in it for herself, saving Clarke from a life of servitude.

But no one could know that.

-

Clarke had been training with Anya for the past hour, all of her worries forgotten. She was taking a quick break now, gladly accepting a pouch of water from one of the guards. She downed half of it, pouring some on her hands and rubbing her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw three familiar figures standing at the railing.

A grin threatened to split her face. Octavia, Monty, Jasper, and another girl leaned against the fence watching her. With Clarke’s attention, Octavia waved. “Hey!”

She strode over to them, forgetting to bring her sword. She and Octavia shared a hug, Monty more hesitant to show her any affection after knowing what Bellamy had done. When she opened her arms to him, he sighed in relief, happily accepting it. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked. “Did they capture you?”

Shit. She’d forgotten about how much the grounders were hated within the Skaikru. “No, not at all. I ran from camp, and they brought me to their town. The commander was there, and she made sure I was comfortable.”

“The commander?” The unknown brunette said, hands twitching idly. “The scary lady can be nice?”

Clarke was tempted to tell her about their relationship but knew better. Even if it would get a hilarious reaction out of them. “I don’t know how, but she was able to tell that I came from a… less than ideal situation. She took me in, offered to bring me to Polis, and I’ve made a life here. It’s amazing. They aren’t anything like we thought they were.”

“Really?” Jasper said. “Did they apologize for spearing me in the chest?”

“They didn’t know who we were,” Clarke said. “We were unknown intruders in their land. You can’t blame them for that.”

“Then who should I blame? Myself?”

“Clarke!” 

She glanced over her shoulder to see Anya in the middle of the pit, waiting impassively for her. She turned back to smile at her friends. “Sorry. I’ll talk to you more later, I promise.”

She ignored their questions and darted back over to grab her sword, standing across from Anya. Her fos unsheathed her sword, nodding over to the fence. “You ready to show off to your friends?”

She smirked. “Hell yes.”

Anya began to advance. Clarke positioned her sword defensively in front of her, body tensed, ready to move however she needed. The first attack came right at her neck, a reckless and normally outright stupid move, but this was Anya. Her other hand knocked Clarke’s sword away, leg coming up to kick her in the stomach. She grunted, stumbling back. She charged once she’d regained her senses, meeting Anya in the middle.

The loud clang of their swords reverberated throughout the pits, telling of the immense force put in by both sides. Clarke dodged a swipe at her legs, aiming a stab at Anya’s shoulder while using her free arm to grab at her opponent’s wrist. She twisted out of the way, recovering too quickly for Clarke to take advantage of her pause.

They fought for some time, Clarke gaining small cuts on her arms, her torso, her legs, even a tiny nick just below her ear. Aware of their audience, Anya went for the most impressive disarming maneuver she knew. Hooking an arm around Clarke’s hip, she used the momentum to swing her over her shoulder and slam her into the ground. Anya’s sword fell against her throat.

“Yu win au. Bilaik otaim (You win. Like always).” 

Anya smirked, helping Clarke to her feet. “That is why I am teaching you. Because you aren’t as good as me.”

“Uh-huh. Show off.”

“Oh, I couldn’t help it.” Anya looked over at the fence. “You should have seen their faces.”

Clarke looked over and grinned at the awestruck expressions they wore. With Anya’s permission, she went over to them.

Octavia reached for her, pausing last second before dropping her hands to her sides. “Oh my god! That was amazing!”

Clarke blushed. “Thanks.”

“Thanks? That’s all you have to say? You just blew my fucking mind! Do you think you could teach me to do that?”

“Woah, O, slow down,” the brunette said. “Let her breathe.” She held a hand out to her. “Hey. I’m Raven. I’ve heard a lot about you from these bitches.”

“She says like she isn’t the bitchiest of us all,”  Jasper said. They all laughed.

“They’re right, Clarke.” She felt a bolt of electricity go through her, stiffening all her muscles and freezing her in place. “That was impressive.”

She ground her teeth together, trying to reel in her disorganized mind. The four at the fence had quieted, heads watching him, but Clarke refused to look at him. She was afraid of what she would do.

“Look at me, Clarke.” Her first instinct was to obey. She fought against it as much as she could, struggling against her fear. “I said look at me.”

“She doesn’t answer to you, Skai boy.” She breathed a sigh of relief. Anya hovered beside her shoulder, resting a comforting hand on Clarke’s back. With her fos by her side, she risked a look.

Bellamy didn’t look any different than when she’d left him, maybe a bit more ragged. He was still the entitled, arrogant boy he’d been before, but Clarke felt her head pulse. He doesn’t own you, she thought, repeating it over and over in her head like a mantra. He doesn’t own you.

Bellamy scowled. “And who are you?”

“That’s none of your concern, and neither is my sekon.” Anya’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “We should get back to the tower, Clarke.”

“No.” She wanted to scream in frustration. Why couldn’t he just let her go? “You can’t make her go.”

“And you can’t make her stay.”

Bellamy snarled. “Just back off! Clarke, come here.”

Anya was about to retort, but Clarke raised a hand, looking Bellamy straight in the eye, blocking out her instinct. “No.”

He was taken aback. “No? You don’t tell me no, Clarke. Come here.”

Her hand went to her sword before changing her mind, instead drawing a dagger from her coat. “Make me.”

Bellamy growled, striding toward her. She knew the tactic, he’d used it on her many times before. Intimidation. Make her think he was going to do something worse than he would. She wouldn’t fall for it again. Drawing back her arm, she aimed her dagger at his throat. He paused, but continued, walking until he was only a few feet from the fence.

With a quick look at Anya, she threw the knife.

Clarke wasn’t a killer, no matter how much Bellamy deserved it. The knife struck his arm, far enough to not cause any major damage, but he went down howling. Ignoring the startled looks from everyone around, she turned and marched out of the pits. With a last scalding look, Anya followed.

Anya left the elevator a couple of floors beneath Clarke while she carried on to one of the very top floors. Pushing through the doors, she fell back against them as soon as they fell closed, clutching her chest. She’d done it. She’d resisted her captor, she’d finally escaped his hold. Before, she’d known that Bellamy still held a part of her, that she still feared his influence, but now that she’d stood up to him, she finally felt… free.

“Clarke?” She perked up, a wide grin spreading on to her face. Lexa stood in the doorway between her solar and bedchambers, looking curiously at her niron. “Did something happen?”

Her heart swelled, looking upon her lover, her savior, perhaps the most important person in her life. Her smile threatened to split her face in half. “I did it, Lex,” she breathed. “I- he tried. He tried, but I did it. I’m free.”

Lexa matched her beam, rushing toward her. They met in the middle, Lexa sweeping her up into her arms and lifting her off the ground. Clarke laughed as kisses were peppered all over her face. “I’m so proud of you, keron,” Lexa said, kissing her passionately. “You’re incredible.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said, leaning forward to kiss her softly. “Without you, I’d still be with him.”

Lexa squeezed her tight. “I’m glad you aren’t. I’m so glad you aren’t. You don’t deserve that life. You never did.”

“And now I have a better one.” They shared bright smiles, kissing messily. Clarke leaned into her. This life was something she’d never expected to get.

Lexa’s hands pet her face, stroking her cheeks and making her groan into the kiss.

Yes; she could ask for nothing more.

[deviltakesthewaltz]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Lexa (The 100), Clarke Griffin Additional Tags: Clexa, Clexaweek2020, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Supervillains, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Lovers, Lovers To Enemies, Smut, Explicit Smut, lots of smut, Porn With Plot, Villains, Forbidden Love, Dark, The only thing explicit is the smut and occasionally some violence, as Clexa beat the shit out of various people, clexaweek2020 day 7, day 7 free day, Sort of a twist on Mr and Mrs Smith, Supervillain AU, So much smut Summary:

“I tried to be the good guy, but it didn’t work. Now I’ll kill anyone that gets in my way.”

“Including me?”

The kiss Clarke gives her lingers on her lips as softly as her next words. “Especially you.”

Or: the supervillain au, where Polis is a city rife with corruption and notorious supervillains Wanheda and the Commander are at war with each other. Little do they know their secret identities happen to be dating.

[bigg1999]

Clexa Week Day 7 ~ Free - Keep Holdin’ On

After the loss of their child, all they can do is hope for a better future and keep holding on.

[unumchuchi]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100) Additional Tags: Clexa Week, Clexa Week 2020, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, The 100 (TV) Season 5, Dead Lexa (The 100), Canon divergence of season 5 but Lexa stills dead, Some angst? Summary:

It has been seventeen days since Clarke received the flame. In that moment, she did it to protect Madi and assume the responsibility of being the next commander. But, even if that was the mainly reason, there was something else.

[clexaweekofficial]

https://tesseractingrey.tumblr.com/post/644435350497968128/whats-the-problem-i-dont-know-well-maybe-im :)

[whydoineedtodothat]

💛❤💛❤

[cherrypersephone]

Day 7 - Free Day ✨

Love is patient, love is kind.

[syngularitysyn]

Hardwired

Summary: Bodyguard Lexa Woods is happy with her job until she finds out she has been assigned as movie star Clarke Griffin’s personal security detail, who she has met once before when she was still in college because they share a best friend in Raven Reyes. They both agreed to steer clear of each other after that first meeting, much to Raven’s chagrin. Now she’s going to be stuck with the other alpha for over a month while her demanding father is breathing down her neck with an ultimatum; take over the family company and mate the omega he has selected for her like she was always supposed to before she rebelled or be disowned.

Read on Ao3.

[onemilliongoldstars]

better to be fake - chapter 1

Since she started at St Anne’s private prep school, Lexa has prided herself on her ability to fly below the radar, even if she sometimes is forced to waitress her classmates’ socialite events. That all changes the moment she comes to the attention of Clarke Griffin, the princess of the upper east side, as wealthy as she is beautiful and used to getting her own way.

Determined to shake off the hold of her over bearing mother, Clarke presents Lexa with a proposal that she can’t turn down: pretend to date her and she will make sure Lexa never has to waitress again.

–

please note the tags and warnings on ao3.

read on ao3.

clexa high society au.

1/13

"I hate these sorts of things."

"Yeah, I know. You've said so about ten times in the last two hours." Anya casts her a look from where they stand, backs against a wall, watching elegantly dressed socialites swing in and out of one another with strained smiles and tight words.

"Well it's true," Lexa slumps back a little against the wall, shifting her heavy tray into her other hand. She adds, sullenly, "They all look like they're having a miserable time anyway."

"Of course they are." Anya rolls her eyes, "don't you know anything about the Upper East Side? They all hate each other."

"So why bother having expensive parties and forcing yourselves to interact with people you don't actually like?" Lexa snaps, eyeing the glasses of champagne on her tray resentfully.

"Why are you asking me this stuff? Do I look like I belong with them?" Lexa hesitates, pretending to look her over thoughtfully and Anya grunts at her, laughter in her eyes. "Don't insult me Lexa."

"No," Her eyes flicker back to the long evening dresses and the expertly pressed tuxes. "We're about as far from their world as you can get."

"Says the prep school girl." Anya teases and nods her head at the returning waiters, "That's our cue, come on."

Lexa lets out a soft sigh, but follows the older girl out into the room. She shadows the straw coloured braid for a few seconds before Anya jerks her head to the other side of the room and she steps away, alone in the sea of diamonds and jewels. Her hands are trembling just a little, but she steels herself. She's worked these things before and just because there are a few familiar faces around doesn't mean that she will be recognised. She's just a dinner jacket and a tray of sparkling champagne to them after all and as she offers out glasses, stepping easily around the milling crowd, she feels herself start to relax. There's a certain skill to being invisible, one that she's perfected over time and she seems to manage it beautifully now, gaining barely a glance from the woman who used to teach her English and the headmistress of her school.

Just as she likes it.

She's been avoiding the group of teenagers in the corner, but there's no way she can just miss them completely unless she wants to be fired, so it's with a heavy heart that she ducks her head and starts towards the loud, laughing group. They stand together, heads thrown back in jovial conversation and she tries not to notice the twinkling accessories that drape their necks and wrists- the price of one alone could probably cover the rent of her apartment for a month. Tonight they'll put them away in velvet cushioned boxes and not retrieve them for six months and the thought makes Lexa's blood boil.

She holds the tray out to them, dropping her eyes to the floor in hopes that they won't notice her and she feels the shift in weight of her tray before she starts to move around the group.

"Hey, do I know you?"

The voice makes her startle to a stop and she freezes, eyes darting up to see the dark haired girl, in a dress that plunges at her neckline and is covered in black sparkles, who is eyeing her with curiosity.

"Uh, no, I don't think so." She tries not to stumble over her words, taking a step back from the girl who is cocking her head to the side.

"No, I think I do." Octavia Blake frowns at her and Lexa can feel the heat spreading to her cheeks as Octavia tugs on her boyfriend's arm, distracting him from his conversation "Lincoln, don't we know her?"

Lincoln turns and Lexa knows in that moment that she is done for. She wonders what the chances are that the earth will open up beneath her and sends a silent prayer to whatever deity watches over her, but nothing happens and instead Lincoln's dark eyes meet hers and widen in delighted surprise.

"Lexa! Good to see you."

"Uh, yeah you too Lincoln," She can feel all of their eyes turning to look at her, likely noticing her for the first time since she stepped up to their group. "How's it going?"

"It's good," his smile is wide and genuine and she clings to it for a minute like a life raft before he turns to his friends and gestures to her. "Hey, this is my friend Lexa Woods. We used to get the train from Brooklyn together, right Lexa?"

"We... sure did." Her words are strangled, tight and she forces herself to smile at them. Their parents sign her pay cheque .

"These are some friends of mine, Bellamy Blake," he nods to the guy with dark, floppy hair who raises his hand in greeting and then to the guy's sister, "and Octavia. Raven Reyes."

The brunette, clad in a silky purple dress, nods at her, smiling a little. "Yeah, I know you Woods. You're up to be Salutatorian right?"

"Only because you got Valedictorian." Lexa smiles a little wryly and Raven shrugs, as if the honour means nothing to her.

"Yeah, kind of a bore but it looks good on my transcript."

Lexa can only hum softly in agreement, pressing her lips together as she tries not to think about how much more time she would have had to study if she hadn't been in and out of work since she was fifteen. It's done now and Salutatorian is almost as good. Almost.

"And, that's Clarke and her boyfriend Finn." Lincoln nods across the circle to where the familiar blonde stands, arguing hotly with a dark haired boy and Lexa has to hurry her eyes away, trying not to stare.

"Well, it's good to see you guys but..." she raises her tray, desperate to get away from their company and to her relief they nod. "Maybe I'll see you around."

She knows she will, she shares almost every class with at least one of them, but there doesn't seem a lot of point in telling them that.

"Hey, wait!" The voice pulls her back around again and she sees the boy Lincoln called Finn reach forward to pluck a glass off her tray.

She turns again and none of them try to stop her.

Just a dinner jacket and a tray of drinks .

She'll happily keep it that way.

----

It's late and she's about to clock out. The party is slowly winding down and she has to get across the river to Brooklyn; her boss is kind of a jerk but Anya had pleaded her case and told the asshole not to make a seventeen year old travel after midnight in the city, so he'd grudgingly let her leave. She's just collecting her coat from the closet when she hears the slight thump from the door outside and freezes. She's no stranger to hidden make out sessions and she's pretty sure that someone was just pushed up against the wall.

For a moment she is frozen in indecision, caught in a closet the size of her bedroom as she dances between the door and the far wall, fingers reaching out hesitantly. In her coat pocket her phone buzzes and she sees her mom's name appear on the screen, asking when she will be home, so she steels herself and pushes the door open.

The hallway outside is low lit and deserted apart from the couple pressed up against the wall, as she predicted, a few paces away. Pausing to pull on her jacket, she can't help the way her eyes flicker to them, brows creasing when she sees the way that the girl is pressing against his shoulders, shoving at him. Slight squeaks and grunts reach her and she is about to dismiss them and start the gruelling walk home when she hears the girl snap, angrily.

"No, get the fuck off me!" She shoves him again, harder this time and the boy goes stumbling away. "I swear you're such a jerk when you drink!" She hisses the words and Lexa is about to leave when the boy, regaining his balance, goes veering towards her again.

Lexa's feet carry her towards them before she can stop herself and she reaches out, pushing at his shoulder hard enough to bring him to a halt.

"Hey! She's not interested."

The boy is breathing heavily and at this proximity she recognises, with a jerk of surprise, the dark, bloodshot eyes of Finn. Her gaze flickers back towards the girl and sure enough there stands Clarke Griffin, golden hair ruffled and dress creased, staring at her in surprise.

"Get out of my way." He's clearly drunk, his words slurred and stinking heavily of whiskey and she cringes away from the smell, glowering at him.

Her hands come to rest at his shoulders, jerking him to a stop when he tries to step towards Clarke again. "You don't get to treat people like this." She snaps and he growls and before she knows it his fist is flying towards her face. She staggers away, letting out a breath of angry, shocked air at the impact, her hand going up to hold her face as she peers down the corridor, bracing for another attack.

What she sees, however, is Clarke Griffin punching her boyfriend squarely in the nose with a satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She hears the blonde shout, furiously, "Stay away from me and from her, Finn, or you'll get what's coming to you."

She turns her back on him, marching the few steps towards Lexa as if the towering heels on her feet are no problem at all and squatting down beside her. Gentle fingers press against her hands and she feels them slowly eased away as blue eyes scan worriedly over her face, brows furrowing with concern.

"You're not in a great state but it's not broken." She tells her, in a voice as soft as silk and Lexa tries to nod, but the fingers shift and holding her head still, cupping her cheeks even as she sees Clarke's lips twitch upwards in a smile, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Okay, no moving. Let's get you cleaned up." She eases her upwards, helping her to her feet and a slim arm is slung around her waist. She can feel Clarke's fingers spreading like a web across her hip, hot through the thick material of her uniform and her breath catches just slightly in her throat, her eyes flickering from Clarke to her feet and back again.

Clarke leads them to a large, marble filled bathroom and she blinks as the lights flicker on and she is deposited on the closed toilet seat, watching the girl in front of her lean up in her light blue evening dress and start to rifle through a stranger's medicine cabinet.

"Huh, seems like Mrs Dwyer is on some harder painkillers than we thought," Clarke casts an amused glance over her shoulder at Lexa, but she can only blink, her head slightly fuzzy as she stares at the blonde, watching her intently. Clarke returns to her side moments later, falling to her knees and reaching up with a warm, damp washcloth to dab away the blood that has been trickling from her nose.

She is incredibly close and Lexa can smell her soft, floral perfume and count the diamonds of her necklace, following the beautiful piece down to her exposed clavicles and swallowing heavily.

"You can stop staring if you want?" Clarke's voice is gentle and teasing, but Lexa jerks back away from her regardless, her cheeks heating impossibly as she feels her breath catch in her throat.

"I'm sorry I... I just..."

"Hey, it's fine," Clarke soothes her easily, fingers running up to catch her jaw in a tender touch again for a moment, keeping her still, "I'm not going to complain about a beautiful girl watching me."

"You... you think I'm beautiful?" The question escapes her on a strangled gasp and Clarke's focused eyes don't move from where she is dabbing at her cheek.

"Of course I do, I have since the moment I met you Lexa Woods." The boldness of her reply makes Lexa feel almost faint and she struggles for a reply for a moment before Clarke beats her to it, continuing. "I don't know if you know me, I'm Clarke Griffin, I'm in your math class... and your history class."

"Yeah... yeah I know you."

How could she not? Clarke sits three rows in front of her in math and a row behind and to the left in history. She excels at the latter, but struggles with math and her friend Octavia likes to flick bits of eraser at her. Lexa wonders whether she could be considered a stalker, but really it's not her fault. One of the perks of being invisible is the ability to observe anyone around her and Clarke is the talk of the school for a reason.

"Well, now we can meet officially," Clarke pulls back a little and pushes a strand of hair behind her ear, scanning her eyes over her clinically. "Nothing is broken and you'll be okay, just some bruising."

"Great, thank you." She's feeling significantly less fuzzy, her head thumping with pain and she rises to her feet carefully, stepping towards the mirror to flinch a little at her reflection, examining the bruises that are blossoming across her cheek.

“No, thank you ." Clarke appears in the mirror behind her, a hand coming to rest against her shoulder, her manicured nails stark against the black of Lexa's dinner jacket. "I mean... Finn's normally harmless, but..." Blue eyes meets hers in the mirror and her smile is strained, fear dancing behind it, "I was pretty scared then. So thank you for saving me."

"I wasn't going to just walk away." She can't tear her eyes away, tugged relentlessly into her gaze and she can feel goosebumps prickling up her arms. "Your boyfriend seems like kind of a dick."

"He is," Clarke agrees, with a sardonic twist to her voice. "And he's not my boyfriend anymore."

"Are you going to give him the memo?" She raises an eyebrow.

"When he's sober."

"Good. You deserve better than him." It escapes her, her words cluttering out over the marble countertops awkwardly and she stiffens a little, ripping her eyes down to look at her hands, clenched around the edge of the sink.

"Yeah, I think I do." The hand on her shoulder tightens and she looks up again to see that Clarke's smile has grown.

She can only nod, looking back to her own reflection and cringing when she sees the drips of red that have run down from her nose and fallen into pinpricks on her white pressed shirt. "Shit," she reaches up to touch it, but fingers grab hers to stop her movements. "My boss is going to kill me..." the realisation dawns slowly and she lets her head fall back, a groan torn from her. "Especially if he hears about the fight. I'm so fired."

"Don't worry, Finn won't spill." Clarke's voice comes from her side, reassuring and easy. "And here, I can help with the shirt. Just don't touch it okay, you're going to stain it."

Lexa's eyes fall open again and she turns, following as Clarke tugs on her hand, leading her out of the room and back down the dark hall towards the closet. Lexa realises, with a jolt, that her dress cuts low and shows off the majority of her bare back, soft, sun kissed skin and the elegant curve of her spine, the dark swirl of a tattoo peeking out from behind the sleeve and she feels her eyes widen, drinking in the sight while she still can. Clarke slips inside and Lexa lingers at the door, her eyes darting nervously down to the kitchen, watching for any familiar faces.

"Hey, come on." Clarke's fingers wrap around hers again and she yanks her through the door, into the closet, pushing the door shut behind her. Lexa's breath is caught in her throat and Clarke laughs a little at her stunned expression. "Sorry," she murmurs as she begins to browse through the coats, "didn't mean to surprise you."

"No, I was just startled." She rubs awkward fingers over the back of her neck, watching as Clarke digs in her purse for something, "I'm not used to being pulled back into the closet." The joke falls from her with surprising ease and Clarke looks at her with surprise.

"Oh yeah, I remember you were dating that girl in freshman year weren't you? You guys still together?"

"No..." Her eyes dart away, “She moved to London at the end of the year."

"Oh, that sucks, I'm sorry." Clarke grimaces in sympathy, "Here," She thrusts a bunch of notes into Lexa's hands and she struggles for a moment, mouth dropping open at the sight of so much money.

"What- Clarke, what is this?" She holds the money gingerly, uncertainly and Clarke shrugs over her shoulder.

"Just something to cover the dry cleaning," She says, as she hangs her purse back with her coat. "I wasn't sure how much it would be, so I figured that would probably cover it."

"There's almost a hundred dollars here!" Lexa exclaims, shaking her head, "and I'm not even sure where I would find a dry cleaner in Brooklyn."

"Oh," Clarke frowns, thoughtful for a moment before her eyes brighten and she offers, carefully, "Have you got another shirt under there?" At Lexa's nod she smiles and continues. "Awesome, then you can give the dress shirt to me and I'll have it dry cleaned for you."

"Oh... you don't have to do that."

"Please, it'll be my pleasure," her eyes are so soft and inviting that Lexa's fingers inch upwards and she's tugging off her jacket before she even realises what she's doing. "Anyway," Clarke moves slowly back towards her. "It's the least I can do for my knight in shining armour."

Lexa laughs quietly at the words, shaking her head as she begins to unbutton her shirt. "Honestly, it's no big deal. I just did what anyone else would have done."

"Yeah, but you're the one who did it." Clarke raises an eyebrow, fingers going to fiddle with the necklace around her throat as she watches. Suddenly aware of her audience, Lexa pauses, her fingers stilling as her eyes dart to Clarke's, heat rushing to her cheeks.

"I, uh... could you maybe...?"

"Oh, sorry!" Pink tinges the blonde's cheeks and she turns, the skirt of her dress flying around her ankles. "So," She speaks awkwardly, "How long have you been a waiter?"

"Just a few months," Lexa resists the urge to snort at the question, "So the risk of him firing me is pretty high and I need the money."

"Do you?" Clarke sounds perplexed.

"Well, yeah." She folds the shirt over her arm, straightening out her singlet a little self consciously before slipping her arms into her jacket again. "You can look, by the way."

Clarke turns, but she makes no move to leave the room as she leans back on a coat rack. "I just figured that with you going to St. Anne's money wouldn't be an issue."

"You'd think," Lexa quirks her eyebrows, her voice dry of amusement, but she continues, "Actually I'm a scholarship student. I thought that was pretty common knowledge."

"No, actually. You seem to slip under the radar pretty well." Clarke steps towards the door, opening it and gesturing Lexa out in front of her and she can't help but wonder how many doors the girl actually opens for herself over the course of a day.

"Apart from your radar," she observes, waiting as Clarke steps out into the hallway with her before she starts walking. "You noticed me."

"I did." Is all Clarke says, but the knowing smile lingering at her lips at the warm affection in her eyes sends a rush running through Lexa. Clarke comes to a stop by the archway to the rest of the apartment and gestures. "Well, this is me."

"And that's me," She nods to where the door waits for her and glances down at the shirt still held in her hands. "Um, sorry do you want me to go and put this back in the closet for you? You really don't have to bother with it, I can figure it out."

"No," Clarke reaches out, pulling the material from her grasp, "Don't worry, I'll hide it somewhere and get it back to you on Monday."

"Alright, thanks," There's a smile on her lips, unbidden but wide, pressing her lips upwards. "It was nice talking to you Clarke Griffin."

"You too Lexa Woods," Clarke lingers, watching as her unwilling feet start the slow walk to the elevator. "Hey," she turns embarrassing quickly to meet blue eyes and a pink lip caught between a set of white teeth, trapped nervously. "I'll see you Monday?"

"See you Monday." She agrees, not even trying to school her smile and it's only once she's in the elevator that she realises she is still clutching Clarke's money in her hand.

----

"Okay, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Clarke's head whips around, looking over at where Octavia is lounging back on the steps, ignoring the people trying to file up around her, throwing her head back to catch the last of the fall sunshine. Her hair falls in a long, complicated dark braid down her back and Clarke watches, suppressing her snigger, as Raven bends over from where she is leant against the railing to steal one of the sugared strawberries from the pot on her lap. Octavia doesn't open her eyes, but she reaches out to slap at her friend's hand.

"Hey, get your own." Her eyes flicker open again and she sits up, looking through the rails at where Clarke stands in the brick lined, ivy coated courtyard, bag clutched in hand. "Seriously Clarke, what's up with you?"

"I don't know what you mean." She holds her head high, her chin stiff but she can feel the telltale blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I'm just stood here."

"Yeah and if you were a cat your fur would be bristling." Octavia points out, ignoring the way that Raven rolls her eyes and doing nothing when the girl steals another piece of fruit.

"Give her a break O," Raven chews on the tip of the strawberry. "She's just had a break up."

"Yeah, but with fuckboy Finn," Octavia flops back against the steps again. "Good riddance.”

"Doesn't mean she can't be upset." Raven points out and goes in for another steal but Octavia is watching through cracked eyes and darts forward, grabbing at her hand and yanking her forward so that she stumbles.

"Seriously Raven, get your own damn fruit! You know I need my morning snack!"

Clarke is distracted from their antics, however, when she catches sight of a familiar head of dark hair. Lexa's locks are braided up and around her head in a detailed halo braid, with a few strands falling around her face and Clarke is momentarily dumbfounded, caught by the sight of her sharp features and pale face, eyes like spring leaves cast to the ground. She has two hands fastened around the straps of her rucksack, holding it tightly to her back and for a second Clarke thinks she will walk right by her, but Lexa's eyes dart up and she spots Clarke's over eager smile and returns it, stepping hesitantly through the students to meet her.

"Hi," Embarrassingly, she's a little breathless when she speaks and Clarke clears her throat, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. "I, um, got you your dry cleaning."

"Thank you, you really didn't have to." Lexa takes the offered bag, swinging her rucksack off one shoulder to pull it around and roll the shirt up neatly, beginning to slide it into her bag when she is jostled from behind and goes stumbling forward. A few of her books fall, hitting the floor with a thud and Clarke turns, spotting Murphy's head.

"Hey, watch where you're going asshole!"

"Miss Griffin!" Mrs Yates, their algebra professor, snaps a warning from where she's passing and Clarke opens her mouth to argue when Lexa's hand tugs on her wrist, pulling her down to the ground with her.

"It's so not worth a fight," Lexa informs her sternly, but there is an undercurrent of bemusement to her voice and Clarke scoops up the book closest to her, reading the cover with interest.

"Yeah, well I like a fight, ask anyone." She laughs softly, standing when Lexa does and handing her the final book as she swings her bag back onto her back. "Looks heavy, you take Mandarin?"

"Yeah, I like it." Lexa hugs the book close to her chest but meets her gaze steadily, shrugging.

"It looks hard," Clarke eyes the book with caution. "I can't even do French."

"It just takes a bit of work, you get used to it."

" You do," Clarke raises an eyebrow, laughing softly. "I think you're over estimating me ."

"I don't think so," Lexa tells her, softly and she can feel herself starting to blush again, biting on her lip as she smiles nervously. "Um, I have your money by the way."

Behind them, the warning bell rings and Clarke shrugs, smiling lightly. "Give it to me later?"

Lexa smiles and nods, then teases with a twinkle in her eyes. "Are you just trying to find excuses to hang out with me Clarke?"

"Maybe," she admits, openly and Lexa blinks at her, obviously surprised by her boldness and she hurries on, "Maybe I want to be your friend."

"Friend?" Lexa raises one sleek eyebrow and Clarke smiles a little, eyes flickering unabashedly up and down the girl before her.

"For now." The words are something of a promise and she turns on her heel, Lexa's gaze burning into her back as she saunters back towards where her friends wait.

----

Lexa is caught by her linguistics professor at lunch and ends up wasting most of her recess talking to him about college opportunities, despite her constant insistence that she's already applied and been accepted conditionally to Yale and by the time she escapes Clarke is nowhere to be found. The next day she is late to class, barely running through the classroom door before the final bell rings and she spends her lunch break with Anya in a small deli downtown, talking about work and mutual friends over foods that she's sure would make Clarke Griffin wrinkle her nose.

"What's this girl actually like?" Anya asks around a mouthful of Cuban sandwich and Lexa sighs, resting her chin heavily in her hands as she stares down at her chicken sub.

"She's terrible," she admits at last and at Anya's cocked head, continues. "She's filthy rich, entitled, careless, basically everything I hate about the city."

"But?" The older girl prompts her expectantly and Lexa lets out a soft groan, letting her head fall into her hands.

"But she's also pretty and nice and proud and gorgeous and protective and clever and-" she breaks off to take a breath, giving Anya a look that she knows is pathetic. "Did I mention she's really hot? Like... unfairly so."

"Only two billion times this whole conversation." Anya rolls her eyes, "I don't get it, if you like her so much why don't you just date her? Seems clear she's interested."

"Because she represents everything I hate Anya!" Her voice draws attention, turning heads and she lowers the volume slightly before she continues. "And I have principles."

"Oh of course ," Anya's words are dripping in sarcasm, "I forgot you like to pass up hot girls because of principles. My bad. Totally logical choice you're making there."

"Shut up, you know I don't have the time to date anyone right now, not with things like they are." Lexa snaps, taking a bite of her sandwich as Anya clicks her tongue impatiently.

"So you don't want to date her, just fuck her?"

Lexa almost chokes on her sandwich and Anya snorts at her reaction, sliding her soda across the small table for her to drink.

"I'm serious, if she's that hot just fuck her and get it out of your system. It's clear you're dying for it."

"Okay, no ." Lexa shakes her head, "you're crazy."

"Hey, I'm older and wiser." Anya reaches over to grab her soda.

"Older is right, how are the crows feet coming, grandma?" She grins, eyes bright with mirth and Anya chucks a balled up napkin across the table at her.

"Shut your mouth, kid. I'll throw you in the fountain, don't test me." They settle into comfortable silence for a moment, both eating and flicking on their phones for a second and Lexa frowns when she hears Anya's voice, softer this time. "Hey, I know it's not really any of my business but how's your mom?"

"Still sick." Lexa doesn't look up from her phone when she speaks, eyes fixed fiercely to the screen until she hears Anya clear her throat quietly, expectant eyes rimmed with sympathy. She sighs and sets down her phone, meeting the older girl's gaze reluctantly. "What do you want me to say? The drugs get more expensive, she just gets sicker and she needs more drugs."

"Do you have enough cash?" Anya asks bluntly, voice steady but Lexa feels herself flare defensively.

"We don't need charity," She snaps, furiously.

"Don't be stupid," Anya retorts, glaring at her, "If you need money I can lend it to you."

"We don't take handouts." Lexa slams her hand down on the table, standing with the loud scrape of her chair against the cheap linoleum floor. "Keep your fucking money."

"Lexa!" Anya shouts after her, but makes no move to chase her down as she storms from the deli, letting the door slam behind her.

Anya’s words sting all the way back to school and she turns the volume up on her headphones until her music drowns them out.

She's late getting back to school, but she has a free period so it doesn't much matter and she considers making her way to the gym but she can feel the weight of her work pressing down on her shoulders so she sets a slow pace towards the library.

The noise she hears coming from the girl's bathroom makes her pause, momentarily. She considers walking on, ignoring it, but she has little desire to sit down and start on her Latin essay, so she pushes open the door, stepping inside and frowning a little when she realises the noises are breathless, angry sobs.

"Um, hello?" She calls out into the room uncertainly, "Are you okay?"

Only one stall is locked and though the sobs immediately quiet to a muffled, hitching hiccup, she lingers outside, knocking softly against the wood.

"Hey, would you like me to fetch someone?"

There's a moment of silence, broken only by the stranger's hesitant sniffles and she considers leaving, is close to turning back to the door when there is a shifting and the click of a lock before the door swings open.

Clarke stands on the other side, cheeks splotching with red, eyeliner running but her regal air still firmly intact as she marches past Lexa as if she is barely worth a glance, striding towards the mirror in black boots that Lexa knows aren't regulation - but of course, this is Clarke Griffin , so it doesn't matter one bit - and leaning over to start powdering her nose. For a second she wants to leave, because Clarke seems every bit the upper east side bitch in this moment, but she knows a defence when she sees one, has been living with one for the last three years and so she stays, watching from a few steps away.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks at last and Clarke slams her powder down on the counter so hard that it spills over the side of its little plastic case.

"Do I look like I want to talk?"

"Not particularly," Lexa admits at last, stepping slowly closer until she can lean against the counter a few paces away from the blonde, watching her carefully. "Do you want me to leave?"

"You think I care what you do?" Clarke growls it out, reaching into her bag for a makeup wipe to smooth away the smears of black beneath her eyes.

Lexa stays where she is, watching stoically as Clarke starts to reapply her eyeliner and it's only when Clarke curses for the second time, scrubbing away her hard work and beginning again, that Lexa realises she is still shivering with suppressed tears, her fingers shaking.

"Hey," she moves closer and lets her hand rise to settle on Clarke's shoulder, relaxing slightly when the blonde doesn't immediately pull away from her touch. "It's okay."

"I just... she's going to ruin my life . Why does she do this to me? Why does she insist on fucking my life over?" Clarke talks quickly, as if she can't stop and Lexa rubs her hand over her shoulder tentatively, eyeing her uncertainly.

"Who?" She asks at last and Clarke throws down her eyeliner, rubbing her palm over her forehead agitatedly.

"My mother ."

"Your mom is ruining your life?" She cocks her eyebrow, confused and sceptical but Clarke doesn't look at her as she turns and continues talking, pacing across the bathroom anxiously.

"She wants me to go to medical school, medical school ." Lexa cocks an eyebrow at her outrage, "and it's just not what I want for myself. Just because she's obsessed with being a surgeon, doesn't mean that I want to be a doctor as well. I just- I can’t even- not after-" She cuts herself off, biting down over her words furiously.

"You seemed pretty good at it when you checked me out in the Dwyer's bathroom," Lexa observes carefully, flushing at the double meaning of her words, but Clarke rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she continues to pace.

"That was different, I was just looking after my friend ."

"You didn't know me."

"I wanted to," Clarke shoots her an irritated glance and Lexa's eyebrows shoot up, treading a fine line between amused and outraged when Clarke waves her hand. "That's the difference."

"What do you want to do instead?" She asks, her earlier annoyance flaring again. "Be a socialite?"

"No." The blonde snaps, glaring at her, "I want to go to NYU and study art."

She feels a flush of shame at her assumption and softens a little."That's pretty cool," She nods, smiling despite herself. "I've seen some of your work around school. You're a brilliant artist."

"Thanks," Clarke cracks a small smile in return, "Try telling my mom that... she just demands that I'm the best all the time, but her version of the best. It’s just not who I am, not anymore at least."

"Well there's no point going to medical school if you're just going to leave after a year or so." Lexa observes, quietly, "it's a waste of time and money."

"Exactly!" Clarke throws her hands up, raising her eyes to the ceiling. "But she won't listen to me."

"You'll have to make her," Lexa crosses her arms, shrugging. "This is your life Clarke, make her sit up and notice that you can do whatever the hell you want."

"Right, you’re right.” Clarke is quiet for a minute and she pauses in her pacing, eyes fixed to the floor and flickering back and forth for a second, quick with thought before she looks up slowly, meeting Lexa's gaze with a ferocious determination that is almost frightening. "I have an idea... date me."

"Date you?" Lexa blinks at her, mouth dropping open in surprise. "That's... that’s not how girls normally ask me out, Clarke."

"Oh come on," Clarke takes a few quick steps closer to her, until she is backed up against the counter, nowhere left to escape to. "You know I'm attracted to you and I know you think I'm hot. My mother will freak out ."

"I'm not really... looking for a girlfriend right now," Lexa tells her, edging slowly out of her grip. "And we only just met!"

"We've known each other for almost a week!" Clarke counters, outraged. "Marriage proposals have happened in less time."

"Maybe in your world." Lexa raises an eyebrow, "but out in the real world we normal people take a little while longer."

"Time is of the essence! Applications are due soon!"

"I'm really not up for dating at the moment Clarke, I'm sorry." Her brows crease when she sees the bewildered outrage cross Clarke's face.

"You flirted with me." Clarke accuses her, face falling, and for the first time her confidence seems to falter. “If you didn't mean it, then... well, then that was really low Lexa."

"No, I did! I mean-" She stumbles over her words, "I mean I did flirt with you, because I do find you attractive. But I never thought anything would come of it! And I just can't handle a relationship with everything else that's going on in my life."

"Then just fake it."

"Fake it?" She echoes the words, mouth falling open in alarm. "Is this some kind of bad sitcom? No !"

"Seriously, Lexa you're perfect," Clarke drags her by the hand and pulls her over to the mirror, lacing their fingers together and Lexa tries to ignore the way that her heart thumps at the feeling of their palms pressed together. "Look at us," she demands and Lexa follows her instructions, watching her reflection beside Clarke's in the mirror. "We're a great couple," Clarke insists, a little more softly. "We've got chemistry, I find you attractive and you're perfect ."

"Yeah, you've mentioned that," Her eyes flicker uncertainly to Clarke's in the mirror, "But I’m not sure it’s a compliment."

"You're a girl," Clarke points out and she can't help but cut in.

"Ah yes. Ideal."

"You're a smartass ," Clarke continues, slapping at her arm. There is a playful smile on her lips and Lexa has to force her eyes away from it. "You're from Brooklyn and you have a like... edgy, outsider vibe going on."

"Edgy?" Lexa repeats, skeptically. "I have a 4.8 GPA and a perfect record."

"Yeah but my mother doesn't know that." Clarke points out smoothly and turns, their hands still interlocked, to look at her. "Will you do this for me? Just a dinner or two. You'll be doing me a huge favor."

Lexa considers, watching the girl and feeling the heat of her hand, the swell in her heart when she hears Clarke laughs. Where's the downside, really ? "Fine." She concedes and Clarke lets out a squeal of joy, throwing her hands around her neck and dragging her in for a stilted, unwilling hug before pulling back to say, her voice sternly somber.

"Lexa Woods, will you be my fake girlfriend?"

"I already said yes." Lexa rolls her eyes, pushing her gently and Clarke laughs, more loudly this time, and for a second Lexa feels impossibly light. Clarke reaches to grab her bag as Lexa digs in her pockets for a second, fumbling for a folded envelope as the blonde starts towards the door. "Oh, I wanted to give you this back." The envelope is crumpled and she pushes it towards Clarke. "Your money." She explains, redundantly and Clarke shakes her head, nudging her hand away with a slight smile.

"Consider it my thanks for your favor."

"You're going to pay me for fake dating you?" Lexa stares at her, somewhere close to aghast, but Clarke doesn't seem to notice, shrugging.

"Don't think of it as payment, think of it as a gift."

"A hundred dollars worth of gift, Clarke."

Clarke just shrugs again, stepping through the door without her and saying, with a light smile, "Definitely worth the money."

The words leave a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, and as Clarke saunters away she glances down at the money in her hands and tries to ignore the part of her that says this is a mistake.

----

[ao3feed-merlinarthur]

by ProphecyGirl

Clarke, Lexa, Merlin, and Arthur have a picnic, a protest, and zero time for stupid people in red hats. Morgana and Gwen are adorable, Gwaine will beat up anyone who's mean to Merlin, and Murphy's never met a table he didn't want to dance on.

Words: 3154, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Clexa Week 2020

Fandoms: The 100 (TV), Merlin (TV), clexa - Fandom, Merthur - Fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, M/M

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Raven Reyes, John Murphy (The 100), Jacapo Sinclair, Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Gaius (Merlin), Indra (The 100)

Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)

Additional Tags: Crack Crossover, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Merthur - Freeform, Clexa, Clexaweek2020, clexaweek2020 day 7, day 7 free day, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, big block of cheese fiction, Everyone Is Gay, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, High School, Not Canon Compliant, but Uther still sucks, Murphy is a Little Shit, Merlin & Morgana Friendship (Merlin), Lesbian Morgana (Merlin), Lesbian Character of Color, Canon Bisexual Character, I'm Sorry, Protests, Gay Rights, Homophobia, Anti-Donald Trump, make america gay again, merlin makes good pasta salad tho, and also stew I've heard, I love you merthur stans you're all valid and the last season doesn't exist, nor does that bullet clexakru, morgana deserved better.. writing

[clexaao3feed]

Devil Takes the Waltz

by Sonderxxx

“I tried to be the good guy, but it didn’t work. Now I’ll kill anyone that gets in my way.”

“Including me?”

The kiss Clarke gives her lingers on her lips as softly as her next words. “Especially you.”

Or: the supervillain au, where Polis is a city rife with corruption and notorious supervillains Wanheda and the Commander are at war with each other. Little do they know their secret identities happen to be dating.

Words: 10705, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Fandoms: The 100 (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/F

Characters: Lexa (The 100), Clarke Griffin

Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa

Additional Tags: Clexa, Clexaweek2020, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Supervillains, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Lovers, Lovers To Enemies, Smut, Explicit Smut, lots of smut, Porn With Plot, Villains, Forbidden Love, Dark, The only thing explicit is the smut and occasionally some violence, as Clexa beat the shit out of various people, clexaweek2020 day 7, day 7 free day, Sort of a twist on Mr and Mrs Smith, Supervillain AU, So much smut

Read Here: https://ift.tt/3cE02bf via IFTTT

[deviltakesthewaltz]

Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: The 100 (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa Characters: Lexa (The 100), Clarke Griffin Additional Tags: Clexa, Clexaweek2020, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Supervillains, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Lovers, Lovers To Enemies, Smut, Explicit Smut, lots of smut, Porn With Plot, Villains, Forbidden Love, Dark, The only thing explicit is the smut and occasionally some violence, as Clexa beat the shit out of various people, clexaweek2020 day 7, day 7 free day, Sort of a twist on Mr and Mrs Smith, Supervillain AU, So much smut

Chapter II Summary:

Lexa steps as close to Clarke as she can now, noting the way the shield recedes to let her but still blocks her from coming too near. “I have to touch you to do this, Clarke. You’re going to have to lower your shield.”

“Mm, I’m sure you can get creative.” Clarke’s voice is a low rasp that Lexa can feel the reverberations of deep inside, lingering somewhere between her legs.

“I’m not sure you could handle me getting creative with you.”

The ghost of a smirk is overshadowed by the dark hunger on Clarke’s face as she looks at Lexa with hooded eyes. “Try me.”

[ao3feed-merlin]

Lions!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2A7oovX

by ProphecyGirl

Clarke, Lexa, Merlin, and Arthur have a picnic, a protest, and zero time for stupid people in red hats. Morgana and Gwen are adorable, Gwaine will beat up anyone who's mean to Merlin, and Murphy's never met a table he didn't want to dance on.

Words: 3154, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Clexa Week 2020

Fandoms: The 100 (TV), Merlin (TV), clexa - Fandom, Merthur - Fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F, M/M

Characters: Clarke Griffin, Lexa (The 100), Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Raven Reyes, John Murphy (The 100), Jacapo Sinclair, Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Gaius (Merlin), Indra (The 100)

Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Morgana (Merlin)

Additional Tags: Crack Crossover, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Merthur - Freeform, Clexa, Clexaweek2020, clexaweek2020 day 7, day 7 free day, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, big block of cheese fiction, Everyone Is Gay, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, High School, Not Canon Compliant, but Uther still sucks, Murphy is a Little Shit, Merlin & Morgana Friendship (Merlin), Lesbian Morgana (Merlin), Lesbian Character of Color, Canon Bisexual Character, I'm Sorry, Protests, Gay Rights, Homophobia, Anti-Donald Trump, make america gay again, merlin makes good pasta salad tho, and also stew I've heard, I love you merthur stans you're all valid and the last season doesn't exist, nor does that bullet clexakru, morgana deserved better.. writing

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2A7oovX