Lightning Only Strikes Once - Clexa

Chapter 99: The Imprint We Leave

"For your sake, I hope it is good news."

The radio cuts out, leaving Raven staring at it in dismay. "I got up early for this," she says sadly, voice still somewhat croaky. She smothers a cough.

Clarke looks to Lexa for orders. "Are we still going to head north now? We can listen to the update on the road."

"No," Lexa says, frowning. "I think we need to know what the news from the south is first. If it is the other clans attacking across the border, Nia's army may well have to turn around, and then we will be able to go south instead of north. I do not wish to exert ourselves, cause Raven to become sicker, risk being seen by someone, and be going in the wrong direction. We wait."

"Then I really could've still been asleep right now." Raven mourns.

"You seemed like you might be having a nightmare when I woke you up," Clarke comments hesitantly.

Raven slumps back down, pulling her blankets up to her chin again. "Not a nightmare, exactly," she says, voice a little muffled as well as being thinner than usual. "I just – I keep dreaming of the last time I saw Anya. You know what our epic goodbye was?"

"What?" Clarke asks, wondering how the two of them are going.

"I said 'see you soon, cheekbones'. Not even 'may we meet again'." Raven rolls her eyes at herself. "You know, the truck engine was still running, and our group was starting to head north, but I still should have come up with a better line then that. 'See you soon'. Bleh."

So it seems like they're going on as normal, then, Clarke thinks dryly.

"And that is the nightmare?" Lexa asks, looking like she understands that. Clarke wonders if she's thinking of the last time she saw Costia. It could also be Anya, or Gustus, or Titus, or even Clarke herself after she was kidnapped, though. It's not like Lexa doesn't have considerable experience farewelling people only to discover later that she might have already said the last words to them she would ever say.

"I said 'sort of'!" Raven defends herself. "The nightmare is that it's the last thing I ever say to her. Which is the kinda morbid dreams you get when there's an army looking for you and you have pneumonia. I didn't even say goodbye at all to Sinclair or Finn, sometimes that's in the dream as well. They get super-teary and never get over it."

"The army's looking for me and Gustus, and you have the flu," Clarke says. "You can talk to all of them when we get back."

"Yeah, but then I'll actually have to come up with what to say!" Raven says plaintively. "Hey, Lex, do you have a speechwriter? A speechwriter I can borrow?"

"A... what?"

"...Never mind," Raven grumbles. "Of course you just come up with all these rousing speeches and wise sayings off the top of your head. I'm going back to sleep. Wake me when the next disaster happens." She turns over and pulls the blankets over her head with finality.

Lexa looks at Clarke and reaches out her hand to pull her onto her feet. "Perhaps we should get some more rest as well," she says noncommittally, but her eyes shine at the thought of more time together with nothing to do but focus on each other. "I could certainly use some."

"Perhaps," Clarke allows.

She wonders briefly if they should radio Wells after all, now that most of Prison Station and their radio has been taken care of, but decides against it. While the Azgeda might not have the technology to trace their signal, anyone with a radio could accidentally hop to their channel and overhear them if they contact Wells. There's nothing important they could tell him that wouldn't also be incredibly useful to Nia. It's best not to risk it without a very good reason.

As they pass the pack leaning against the door of their temporary room Lexa pauses and untangles her fingers from Clarke's. "Just a moment," she says, and rummages through it. After a minute she pulls out Clarke's sketchpad and several pencils.

Clarke feels her face split into a smile. "You brought those for me?" she asks. She knows it's a stupid question, but she feels ridiculously touched. "Weren't you worried someone would search your pack?"

Lexa shrugs. "There was already that risk for the radio and bombs," she says. "And there were other things I was not willing to leave behind as well." She carefully pulls out bright blue fabric, and unfolds it to reveal Jake's watch wrapped safely in the centre. It takes a moment for Clarke to realise that the blue square of fabric is also her sash when she reaches out to touch it softly before picking up the watch. It's still ticking away, counting the seconds, cleaned so thoroughly and carefully that it looks as new as it ever has.

"You knew I was alive?" Clarke asks, feeling tears swell up even as she fights them back.

"No," Lexa admits. "I hoped. And at first I did not even do that, I just – I fell apart. I did not know how to be Heda without you there, I did not even know how to be Lexa anymore. It took the threat of the missile to bring me back to myself, and even then it was only because I somehow believed that if I could save everyone from the missile I would find you safe. As if it was a deal with the spirits."

Clarke pauses, considering her next action. "Wait a moment," she requests quietly, and goes to open the secret trapdoor. Raven lets out a muffled curse from the next room as the squeal of the hinges wakes her, but doesn't comment further, and the noise of animals and people beginning to wake up and start their day outside should more than cover it up. It takes her only moments to find it even in the dark, her hand seemingly drawn to the ornately carved wood.

"Clarke?" Lexa looks confused for a moment when Clarke holds the bow out to her, and then she focuses on it and every drop of colour drains out of her face. She reaches for it with numb, clumsy hands, then cradles it as she sinks to the floor, ceaselessly tracing the carvings.

"Lexa, I'm so sorry," Clarke whispers, her own heart aching as she sees Lexa's pain.

"No," Lexa says quickly, then, "No," a little more calmly. "Mochof, ai hodnes. I am glad to have it back." She runs her fingers over one of the flowers. "She was always best at making flowers and trees and vines out of wood. I used to bring her flowers for her to work from, and she would put them in her hair whenever she was done carving, so that her hair was always strewn with flowers. I would climb trees to find the most beautiful ones," she looks up at Clarke, eyes filled with tears. "It was foolish."

"No, it wasn't," Clarke says, putting an arm around Lexa. Lexa leans into the comfort gratefully.

"She was the best hunter by far, especially when she used this bow, her favourite," Lexa continues, still staring at the bow. "She would take down any animal she aimed for with one shot. She refused to wound them, she never wanted to cause a moment of pain. Costia hated causing pain – that is why she became a hunter instead of a fisa, as she first planned. She said she was grateful she spent a few years learning those skills, though. She said I required them often, with the risks I took. Costia was present for nearly all my lessons, all my trips, everything I did, even as a Seken, because she said I might need a limb bandaged or an enemy shot with arrows."

"I can't imagine Titus being thrilled about that."

Lexa lets out a watery laugh. "Not at all," she confides. "Once I ascended he had no choice but to allow me to do as I wished, of course. And before that when I was a Seken my Fos had final say and she loved Costia like a strisis, a little sister, just like she loved me. Just like she now loves Tris. Anya has always – well, I suppose Titus would say Anya has always been weak, beneath her pretence of indifference."

"Not weak. Strong."

"Sha. Strong." Lexa kisses Clarke's shoulder and is silent for a long time.