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The battle with the Azgeda was over.
Clarke stood hunched, favouring her right side slightly, a bloody vision of Artemis with a gun in her hand and a gash on her cheek. A few straggling ice warriors fought against trikru in small skirmishes, but they were quickly dispatched like the quiet fires that lit the battlefield.
The Sky Commander walked slowly across the ground, reflecting on events that unfolded mere hours ago.
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The camp of the Trikru was literally humming. Gentle beats of swords and knives against armour, war drums in the early morning. The sun had yet to sneak over the horizon, but a little light bled into the sky.
Clarke knocked lightly on the wooden beam that held up the entrance to Lexa's tent. They'd finished drawing up battle plans a short while ago, and the Skai Heda knew that the Commander often spent time in her own tent before a fight. Lexa's guards didn't bother to look sideways at Clarke, they were long since used to her visits at all hours.
At Lexa's invitation, the blonde walked inside, pushing the heavy fabric closed again behind her.
"Hey." She said quietly, wandering over to stand behind her warrior and rest her hands gently on Lexa's hips. The Commander was leaning over a table of books and papers, but looked up to meet storm blue eyes.
"Hello, ai prisa." Lexa turned to face Clarke, a small smile tugging at the edges of her lips. She leaned in, and they kissed softly. Her hands found their place tucked neatly into blonde hair, and the taller warrior broke the kiss to nuzzle their foreheads together.
"Today has been tedious. Too many hours spent cooped up planning, not enough hours with you by my side."
Clarke hummed in agreement, and ran her hands up Lexa's arms to take her hands in her own. They had spent too much time at war recently, but as the Commander of the Twelve Clans it was Lexa's duty to deal with the disobedience of the Ice people. More specifically, the insubordination of their Queen.
"You heard the generals. The Ice Nation will be dealt with, you just need to focus on not getting yourself hurt. I'm gonna be pissed if you lose a leg, okay?"
Lexa smiled slightly, and looked deep into Clarke's eyes.
"I'll be fine, I've seen combat many times and I've only a handful of scars. I'm still not happy that you won't stay behind, though."
Clarke quirked an eyebrow and tightened her grip on Lexa's palms.
"You know full well I won't stay behind. I'll fight for my people like you fight for yours, Lex."
The commander didn't reply, just nodded lightly in acceptance. Though their relationship was fairly new at just a few months old, the brunette had known Clarke far too long to ever think that she'd be happy sat on the sidelines. It was for this reason that Lexa had insisted on training the sky person with a sword, and secretly assigned a person guard to Clarke each time she left the camp without the warrior herself beside her.
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Such tranquility, such a short time ago. She walked a little further before she saw her.
If Clarke stood like Artemis, Lexa carried victory like Athena. Violent stripes of war paint carved their way across her cheeks, and thick blood trailed the length of her sword, blood far too vibrant to be her own. Wanheda watched as Heda Kongeda spat, for she was in this moment Heda and not Lexa. The woman snarled at a dying man, a feral movement that seemed a far cry from the careful days of planning that preceded the battle.
Clarke thought her lover to be an amazon, wise always, wicked when the need arose. Their eyes met across the ruined landscape, and as soon as Heda laid eyes on her, Clarke saw the slightest slump in Lexa's shoulders. The women made their way towards each other quickly then, picking their way across a field littered with bones. The sheer relief at both of them having survived had a breathless smile pulling at the normally stoic Commander's lips.
She was close now, maybe 20 meters. Lexa began to reach out for her, needing to feel her warm and breathing body, and then her smile dropped.
He came out of nowhere, and cleaved her skin and ribs with a knife.
The joyful elation at seeing her lover alive and well sank to the bottom of Clarke's heart, replaced by the freezing grip of fear. It stopped for a beat. Then another. Time stood still as a trikru warrior pushed her weapon through the Azgeda soldier, ran him through.
Lexa took her hands away from her side, and black came with them. The world began to turn again as the Commander buckled.
Warriors would later regale their villages around the campfires with tales of that day, but none would speak of that moment.
The moment that Wanheda's screams obeyed her title and woke the dead.
Clarke rushed to Lexa's side, the black ichor already pooling on the hard earth. Lexa's hands gripped the blonde's forearms as Clarke took over putting pressure on the wound, desperately attempting to stem the flow.
"Shh, don't try talk. Please don't try and talk. Save your strength."
Despite Clarke's protests, Lexa swallowed the thickness in her throat and tried again to speak.
"Clarke, I-.."
She swallowed again, this time it tasted more metallic. Clarke could do nothing but look deep into forest green eyes.
"I lo-"
Clarke had to roll Lexa onto her side, as a fit of coughing cut off her speech and brought blood into her mouth. Lexa's breathing weakened further, and the great Commander's eyes unfocused, and rolled back into her head. She went limp.
Tears beaded in Clarke's eyes as the panic rose up from her stomach.
"No...no, no, no, this is not happening!"
The blonde pressed even harder into Lexa's wound, her fingers slipping as they were slick with her lover's blood. Her hands shook, tremors wracking her body like lightning strikes.
"Lexa I swear to God, you come back to me right now. I'm not done with you yet, I need more time to love you -"
She began weeping in earnest then, as her pleas fell on ears that could not hear her. A rough hand laid itself on her shoulder, and Clarke looked up to find a frenzy of Trikru healers sprinting towards them. Nyko moved his hand away and spoke quickly.
"Clarke, we must take the Commander with us now. If she has any hope of survival, you need to let go."
Her throat was raw as sandpaper from her screams and protestations, so she could say nothing, and she was too weak to stop the healers prying her hands from Lexa and pulling her away. Nyko straightened Lexa's body on the ground, and his team pushed her lifeless frame onto a stretcher. Before Clarke could do or say anything, they were gone, and Lexa with them.
Hours later, her personal guard Alix found her kneeling in the crust of Lexa's blood, long since dried on her skin. Wanheda had not moved from the spot that Lexa had lain in, for Clarke was numb.
"Ai niron, are you awake?"
Lexa's soft touch accompanied her soft voice, and Clarke smiled in the early morning light filtering through the canvas. She could feel the delicate puffs of Lexa breathing on the back of her neck, and the gentle tracing of her fingertips on her arm.
"Sha, I am now."
She rolled over to face Lexa, her smile never faltering. Lexa was always beautiful, but perhaps even more so in the small hours of the day, when she could be just Lexa.
"Did you sleep well, Clarke?"
"Well thanks to you, I didn't get much of it."
The blonde smirked, pushing their lips together in a chaste kiss. She could feel Lexa's warmth, naked as they both still were from the previous night's activities. Clarke tucked a rogue curl of brunette hair behind a perfect ear, and her gaze met Lexa's once again.
"What are you staring at?"
She asked playfully, watching the slow smile make its way across Lexa's face.
"You."
The blonde raised her eyebrow, in a silent request for her lover to go on. The longer she went without an answer, the further the blush spread across her cheeks. Lexa gave a light laugh as she saw it, and bit her lip gently.
"I'm staring at you because you're beautiful, and I love you, Clarke."
Clarke couldn't stop her grin, so she didn't try to.
"I love you too."
Lexa moved her hand to cup Clarke's face gently. Truth be told, Clarke was still in awe of the fact that Lexa loved her, even after all their time together. The most powerful, dominant, and dangerous woman on Earth left tiny kisses on her nose. The Commander that could have a man strung up with just the wave of her hand, laughed so freely and openly with Clarke that she seemed as young as her age again. Lexa - that could raze a village to the ground - cried the first time they kissed.
Clarke trailed her hand over Lexa's side, coming to rest just on top of her hip bone. Her thumb reached down to smooth over the puckered skin of an old scar.
"You always manage to get yourself hurt."
She murmured, her eyes flicking back to Lexa's.
"Don't you ever not come back to me, you hear?"
Lexa, for all her soft and gentle ways, became suddenly solemn.
"I hear you, ai niron. I will always be with you."
Satisfied that her lover understood, Clarke leaned up to connect their mouths in a gentle kiss. It started slowly, a tender connection reminiscent of their first kiss. Soon though, a fire burned low in her body, and the kiss turned harder. Lexa pushed Clarke onto her back lightly, and started to let her hands wander. The blonde wasn't laying back without a fight though, and flipped them both to reverse the position.
Clarke grinned down at her love triumphantly, receiving a small smirk and a shake of the brunette's head before she was pulled back into a heady kiss.
This time though, there was something different. Clarke couldn't pinpoint it at first, but her brow began to furrow and she pulled back.
For a fleeting moment, Lexa just looked back at her in confusion, before it began.
It was slow at first, just a trickle. Lexa raised a hand to her own chin, and shock rippled across her face as her fingers came away, slick with black blood. She opened her mouth to speak, but had to fight to swallow a rush of fluid. Clarke scrambled back in surprise, the furs catching on her ankles and tripping her. She got to her feet just in time to catch Lexa's look of utter terror, before blood began seeping out of her eyes.
Clarke let out a scream that caught in her throat. She was willing herself to do something, anything, but her body wouldn't move. Lexa was curled over, trying to stem the blood that was now leaking from her nose. The bed that they shared was a mess of blood, the place where only moments ago they were whispering of love now resembled a death bed.
Lexa was still trying to talk, to make some sound, but each time she only coughed up more blood. Clarke met her eyes and could see the silent scream for help, which sparked something in her and finally, she moved. The blonde ran to Lexa's side and took her hands away from her face, frantically searching for a source of the bleeding. Lexa was evidently struggling to breathe, her soft lips and beautiful skin turning an unnatural shade of blue. Clarke was beyond panic now, as the terror continued to creep up her spine and leak into her hands. She hunted again for a source of the bleeding, but Lexa pulled her hands away and forced her to look at her. The light was leaving her eyes, eyes that had been so full of mirth and emotion when they'd woken up. The love of her life was literally bleeding out in front of her and she could do nothing, nothing but watch-
Clarke bolted upright in bed, and immediately looked to her left, praying to whatever gods would listen that Lexa would be there beside her.
She wasn't.
Clarke had awoken to cold furs on Lexa's side of the bed, something she was still unused to. Every night she slept without Lexa by her side was worse than the last it seemed, with nothing to keep away the nightmares. Before, her dreams had been fixated on killing the three hundred grounders, necessary as it had been, but now they played host to a single figure, and Clarke saw the blood leaking from her beautiful lips every time she slept.
The blonde sat up slowly, stretching out her arms. She dressed practically, warm sheepskin trousers and a heavy woven shirt to keep out the chill from her bones. The meal that the handmaidens had set out for her was simple too, and she ate quickly. So much of her routine now was simply necessity that she merely moved through the motions. When Lexa had shared breakfast with her, they laughed and conversed lightly about the day that was to come. Clarke hadn't shared a meal with Lexa for weeks now.
The air in camp was as brisk as she had expected, though she welcomed it. The guards nodded politely as was their duty, but the inhabitants of the small village they had camped beside would not meet her eye. They had heard of Wanheda's anguish on the battlefield and were wary, lest she decide to allow her pain turn to tyranny. Wanheda made her way through the village quietly, drawing no attention to herself. She didn't want any delay in arriving at her destination.
The healer's tent was kept away from the main body of the camp, both to prevent infection spreading and to give the sick the peace and quiet they needed to rest and heal. Though by the sounds emanating from the tent, there was a particular patient unwilling to play ball. Clarke smiled.
"Heda, you must not - you will pull your stitches!"
Nyko's exasperated voice filtered over the breeze and Clarke quickened her pace, unwilling to wait any longer to see her. The commotion inside the tent died down almost immediately as she pulled back the canvas, and was met by the irritated healer.
"She is refusing to stay in bed. You deal with her."
He huffed out, walking straight out of the tent in the direction of the village. She ducked inside in his stead, and sighed heavily.
Lexa sat on the side of her cot, attempting to pull on her boots with one arm, as the other was in a sling. Clarke cleared her throat loudly, causing the Commander's head to snap up. She blinked confusedly for a moment, before smiling lightly.
"Good morning, Clarke. Nyko is still refusing to let me leave the tent. I have informed him that I will be leaving anyway, because I am fed up of sleeping in his tent, instead of with you. He snores."
The blonde broke into a wide grin, and moved over to sit beside her.
"Lexa, we talked about this. You are not leaving this tent, you need to heal."
"But you're allowed to leave!"
"Because I wasn't stabbed in the side." Clarke said, a touch more firmly. Lexa just pouted at this, a trait that Clarke found adorable. While it usually meant she would get her way, the blonde was not going to fold on this one. She knelt down and untied the half of Lexa's boot she'd managed to do one-handed, and nudged her love to lie back down. She followed suit, cuddling into her side.
Lexa huffed like a child that had been told no for the first time, but allowed Clarke to cajole her back into bed. She tucked the arm that she still had use of around Clarke's back, and in return the blonde swung an arm over her stomach. Something caught Lexa's eye.
"What's that?"
"What's what?"
"Under your sleeve." The Commander pushed back the corner of Clarke's sleeve to reveal a small, patchy line of black that didn't come off when she rubbed at it with her thumb.
"Oh, that. Basically, when you were bleeding everywhere - something you are very much going to make up to me when your stitches come out - I didn't notice I had some open cuts too. Your blood was literally everywhere, and I guess it sort of...dyed me? I thought it would come off but it's been like a month, I think it's basically a tattoo at this point."
Lexa raised her eyebrows so far they practically hit her hairline, looking back and forth between Clarke's face and her new 'tattoo'.
"Are you serious? That can happen?"
Clarke shrugged.
"You're a nightblood. I guess normal rules don't apply. I have black patches all over my arms."
Lexa pondered this information for a moment, absentmindedly stroking across Clarke's arm.
"Is it odd that it makes me feel closer to you?" She asked, with the barest hint of a smile. Instead of replying, Clarke just kissed her.
She had Lexa in her arms again, and nothing could make her let go.