our fight isn't over

[Derrick]

Clarke Griffin
ooc// let me know if this works for ya! also will change the gif at some point.

LEXA KOM TRIKRU

Nothing could have prepared her for the day's events. In a moment of bliss she spent her time with Clarke, allowing herself to be that vulnerable with no walls up, no shields to protect her emotions. She was raw, exposed for Clarke to see and it was more than just something sexual; it was spiritual, emotional, showing Clarke who she was beneath the armor, the ice, the Heda. She could be seen for who she really was and instead of being pushed away it had been embraced. If she didn't know Lexa was her soul mate beforehand, she did now.

Clarke had already exited, allowing Lexa to dress and finish sorting through a few matters before it happened.

When she heard the firing of the weapon her instincts screamed at her to take cover and to make sure Clarke was okay. Her own safety mattered little if her soul mate had been shot and she could not lose someone else she loved. Heading towards the door of her room, she exited swiftly, letting her feet carry as fast she was able to which lead her directly into the path of another bullet. It hit her directly, freezing her in place, her eyes widened in shock as she looked from Clarke to Titus and then back to Clarke. Blood already began to steadily drip from her wound, coating her clothing, staining the floor beneath their feet.

She didn't expect to live. She had told Clarke to not be afraid, made Titus promise that he would never harm or attempt to harm Clarke ever. She relished the last touch she would ever get from her lover, the soft skin of Clarke's hand was a comfort when the world around her was starting to grow cold. "May we meet again." As much as she didn't want to leave her, she knew that she would always be with Clarke and that was comfort enough. Closing her eyes for what she felt would be the last time, she faded into unconsciousness even as there were frantic attempts to save her.

Her heart slowed down, threatening to stop but with the combined efforts, it only faltered for a few moments before it stayed at a steady but weak beat. Lexa wa unaware, still deep in slumber even as her body was moved to a more comfortable location for when she would wake. In her system, her blood as black as the night skies burned though it left no visible marks. Much like her nightmare, she knew they were not happy; but unlike her nightmare she couldn't wake up from this, trapped in a burning cage and ready to be torn apart.

Night had fallen by the time she woke, having spent several hours unconscious, her mind not in a restful place. The fingers on her right hand twitched before her eyes snapped open to stare up at the ceiling above her, a gasp of air pulling deep within her lungs as if she'd been deprived of that precious oxygen. For a moment she wasn't sure where she was, and it took a few seconds for everthing to come back to her. Immediately her hand went to her stomach before hissing in pain as her fingers touched the bandage and pressure was on the wound. I'm alive. Lexa mused to herself, ignoring the pain so she could sit up, wincing and holding onto her stomach as if that would alleviate the pressure.

"Clarke? Titus?" Lexa's voice was hoarse as if she'd been screaming. The only light came from the multitude of candles that were littered about, their wicks ablaze to give enough light to see by. Their glow reminded her of the burning in the dreams and she closed her eyes, inhaling another sharp breath. She needed to get up, figure out why she was still alive, see what had been going on, make sure Clarke was safe. As for Titus, she wasn't entirely sure if she was going to punish him or not.

blood must have blood

[Clarke Griffin]

She thought Jackson had once told her about the moment when a life hung in the balance and one simple action was all it took to push it over or pull it back. It was one simple action, one simple press that Clarke hadn't even realized she was doing. From there she realized what exactly it was that was killing Lexa. It was bad. But not unfixable like she feared. There were several types of injuries to the abdomen that Clarke couldn't fix. But this one, this one she could fix. 

What happened next was a blur. She was in the zone. Her hands were working by themselves without the blonde even having to think about her actions. It was like a second nature to her. It was so natural, not doing it seemed impossible. She asked for what she needed - knife, clip and so on. Titus, in awe of what he was seeing, of how unfaltering and unswayed Clarke seemed to be, handed her everything. One by one, more grounders entered the room, watching in awe how wanheda, all alone prevented their commanders heart from stopping, how she kept her breathing, kept her alive. And finally, her hands drenched in the black blood of her lover, it was done. All she could do was done. Now it was on Lexa to survive the night. And the next day. 

Titus took Clarke to clean herself as Lexa was made comfortable, hoping it would help her survive. It turned out her actions had earned her even more respect by the grounders. They viewed it as Clarke having proven she was truly the commander of death. She had commanded and brought the death at mount weather and now she had called death away to save their beloved commander. Titus took her to cleanse herself next - she didn't even know if it had a significance. Then, dressed in the blue robe, Clarke returned to Lexas bedside. At one point she had fallen asleep, curled up by the window, overlooking Polis as she mused on how her people were under a blockade now and how she couldn't return even if she wanted to. But Lexa lived. 

And it was her voice that woke Clarke. The sun bathed Lexa in a soft warm light, like an angel. Clarke smiled softly. "You made it. You survived." She whispered. Clarke rushed to Lexas bedside, taking her hand. "How are you feeling?"

Derrick

[Derrick]

Clarke Griffin

LEXA KOM TRIKRU

Searching the room with a piercing gaze, her eyes found what, no who she was searching for. Having expected to die, she didn't just take as much comfort from Clarke's presence as she could; she made sure that Clarke would remain safe until Aden or one of her other Natblida's became Heda. All of her Natblida's had promised to adhere to her wishes regarding Clarke and Skaikru, it just wasn't them she had been worried about. Titus had tried to kill Clarke in order to protect his Heda and in doing so he had almost killed his Heda instead.

She couldn't be too mad. All he did he did for his Heda and she knew that he would not break his promise to her. Knowing that meant she hadn't minded dying. Her spirit would choose wisely and everything would be okay(she kept telling herself). Still, she didn't really want to die. As ready and accepting as she was, there was that selfish part of her that did not want to leave Clarke. Not after everything that had happened. Not after knowing that the woman sleeping at her bedroom window was her soul mate. Well, formerly sleeping, her voice had woken her up and immediately she came over where Lexa was sitting.

Trying to move herself only made the pain in her abdomen flare up and she was forced to sit still though the spark of pain glinted in her eyes. She smiled a softer smile, one that was a rarity upon her features, gently squeezing Clarke's hand with her own. "Surprised mostly. I keep asking myself how I'm still alive. But you had something to do with that, didn't you Clarke?" It was the only logical explanation that made any sense to her. Titus seemed frozen on the spot when she last saw him. There wouldn't have been time to summon a healer, which left Clarke. "Thank you, Clarke kom Skaikru. I owe you my life." Lexa recalled the first time her life had been saved, remembering how Clarke spoke of people thanking their savers after the fact.

Her other hand reached over, wanting to lightly brush Clarke's face but the awkward angle made that impossible. There was a sharp intake of breathe as she pulled her hand back. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she hurt. More than she had ever hurt in her life which she came to one conclusion. Getting shot sucked and she didn't want to experience it again.

"Are you okay?" Green eyes searched her face; Lexa was far more concerned for her lover than she was for herself. While she saw no visible wounds, that didn't account for wounds of the mind. And who knew what had happened during that time? If any of her guards did so much as lay a finger on her there was going to be consequences. "What happened when I was-" Asleep? Unconscious? Dying? Lexa couldn't find the right words. As morbid as it was, she needed to know what had gone on while her life had hung in the balance. Lexa simplified her question. "What happened?"

Actually, better question was, "how long since?" Again, she couldn't finish the sentence, swallowing quickly and looking away. Being Heda meant being strong, not weak. And yet she felt so vulnerable around Clarke that the walls she built around her heart had already crumbled. Though she knew that she could be less than strong around Clarke and everything would be okay, she still has trouble. Years of training, of guarding her emotions, of protecting herself. Of being Heda, the Commander. She had a duty to be strong because her people needed it.

Not for the first time Lexa reflected on how tough being Heda was and how she wished that sometimes she had never been chosen. But as she looked into Clarke's eyes, oh how she couldn't wish otherwise. If she had never become Heda, she may never have met the most important person in her life.

blood must have blood

[Clarke Griffin]

She was right. Clarke had something to do with her survival. Which didn't make it any easier for her to deal with it. It was scary. Everything could have fallen apart with Lexas death. It was more than personal. It was so much more. It could have meant something very bad for her people. Who knew what another commander could do to her people? And well she guessed it was personal, too. But now, now it was bigger. Now she knew that the people here truly thought of her as Wanheda. Now she knew at leastthat what she was called wanheda for was something she could do, saving lives. It wasn’t that advanced in the end, but for the grounders it must have been mind blowing. She was wanheda now. And maybe she had to live up to that.

“You owe me nothing.” She said. Yet she knew she would come to collect if there was no other way to save her people and she knew Lexa knew that. They both were, first and foremost, leaders, guardians to their people and that was where they both would fall in the end. Lexas death would be for her people when it came. And Clarke suspected hers would be, too. She reached for Lexas hand, placed it gently back down, knowing that the stitches were less than professional. They couldn’t be with the supplies she had. 

“To your people? I guess Wanheda showed her powers.” She had shown power over death once more. Only this time chasing it away. She liked that aspect more. “It’s not been long. You need a lot more rest. Otherwise your wound will reopen and you might still die. I don’t intend to let that happen.”

Derrick

[Derrick]

Clarke Griffin

LEXA KOM TRIKRU

Thing was, Lexa really did owe her. Not just for her life but for everything that Clarke had done in saving the life of the Commander. In saving her life she had saved the Coalition, saved the thirteen clans from going into war with each other. And, she thought ruefully, saved the young Natblidas from entering the conclave. While it was tradition when she and other commanders passed, she also knew how she felt when she won her conclave. Though she had the honor of becoming Heda, the blood of her siblings were on her hands. She hadn't celebrated that night - she spent enough time around her people that was considered appropriate before retiring for the night.

"You've done a great deal here tonight, Clarke." Probably more than she would ever know or realize. Lexa knew. Lexa realized. Not for the first time she reflected on how special the blond was and it wasn't because of the love Lexa held for her.

"Wanhedas usually bring death, they do not chase it away. You will become a legend." In her eyes she was a legend but she wasn't about to say that outloud. She also didn't pursue the subject any futher, knowing Clarke probably cared little about becoming a legend in the eyes of the grounders.

Lexa didn't really know the meaning of rest. Not truly. All her instincts told her she needed to get up and resume her duties. She needed to talk to Titus, figure out how to proceed with everything that had happened. The guilt on his face had been palpable and Lexa would forgive him regardless of how others felt about such actions. Besides, he was the only Flamekeeper. This was incredibly messy and she needed to sort it out but she also knew she couldn't even move that well in her state.

So she didn't argue with Clarke. "I don't plan on dying." Was all she said, hoping to at least reassure her that she planned to fight. She lay back down on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling with all her thoughts swirling in her head. Almost shyly she looked toward Clarke again, her words barely above a whisper. "Stay with me?"

blood must have blood

[Clarke Griffin]

A legend. Even legends died. She knew of some, but their stories were so distorted that not everyone knew the core of them. And the core was crucial. What would the core of her legend be? She doubted it would be a good one. It would contain so many deaths that Clarke didn’t care to look into it. But she smiled. She couldn’t not smile at her at the thought. “You would imagine if your people call someone the commander of death, they would think they can chase away the death as well.” Or not. It was not something they could do, so it wasn’t war fetched for them to not think of that. The fact was that she could safe lives. And maybe that was worth highlighting. Maybe a wanheda that could take and give lives would help them understand that a commander can go by their rules or dismiss them as old. 

Clarke ran her hand gently over Lexas arm. She hoped she would understand how crucial it was to stay in bed now. The problems would remain to fight them another day. Or maybe they would solve themselves. That would be a best case scenario. It was highly unlikely. With what happened in Arkadia, Clarke doubted they would be able to find a solution to their problems alone. And it would be hard for them to find them right now. 

“I will.” Where else would she go? Lexa was in her room. And in any case, she didn’t care to leave anyway. She was her patiend but so much more. Anything could happen. Clarke sat there, looking at her, before sighing deeply. If she was to stay, she might as well get comfortable and so she got to get a fur blanket. With that, she changed the position of the chair so she could put her feet up on the bed as well. “You should try to sleep some more.”

Derrick

[Derrick]

Clarke Griffin

Lexa allowed herself a small smile at the words, trying to keep herself from expending too much energy from movements and gestures. She was tired and it was a tired that went deep into her bones. A sense of tiredness that she had never felt before, as it her very soul had become weary. "It's very rare for us to do what you have done. Not many have been able to chase away death, not even our most gifted healers."

Okay, so the bed wasn't exactly huge like the one in her room but she was actually meaning for Clarke to be on the bed, not stuck in the chair. Lexa thought of the logics behind it, and although she didn't exactly like it, could understand. All she wanted was comfort and Clarke being in the chair would be comfort enough because she was there. That was all she could really ask and technically it was staying there, right? Clarke left the bedside to fetch a fur blanket, of that they had plenty and didn't move even as she left her line of sight.

With Clarke there, Lexa felt safe. If anything happened, not that she planned for things to happen, but if they did, Clarke would know what to do. Lexa was astounded by her skill, a skill that went above even many of her own healers, and wondered if she would impart any wisdom to their healers. Maybe not too.

For now she was content just to be alive, to have Clarke near her. It wasn't every day that Lexa got to rest and as weird as it felt, her body seemed to crave it. Her eyes fluttered, closing as sleep took over the commander, her sleeping form looking younger than she was.

[Clarke Griffin]

“I once prided myself with that.” Once being the important part in this. So much had happened, so much she couldn’t even form into words at that moment. She was no longer the hopeful student that was learning how to save people, to keep them alive and to bring new life into the world. She still retained some of that skill, skill that now turned her into Wanheda thoroughly. Commander of death. “I still have so much to learn.” But her words were met with no answer. In many ways she was glad of it. She was haunted still, now more than ever. If the grounders thought of her as controlling death, it was a position of power that she might be able to use and harness in the right direction: Peace. But what if her power only brought destruction like in TonDC and Mount Weather.

Clarke got up, making sure Lexa wouldn’t be disturbed. She went to the window, imagined she could look all the way to Arkadia, where her remaining family was, her family. Somehow there had to be a way to protect them with this. Somehow this had to be achieved. It only she knew how. Clarke kept watching the lights moving. For hours, it felt. For hours until she had an idea. And the sun rose, painting Polis red like blood. 

Derrick