Lightning Only Strikes Once - Clexa

Chapter 119: With This Dagger Sheath

"I have messengers I need to send off this morning if I wish them to reach TonDC and Polis today," Lexa explains, kissing her cheek again and lingering this time. "And if you recall, your mother requested your presence this morning for a medical check-up."

Clarke scowls, aware she probably looks like a sulky child. "Right. That'll be fun. Do you remember if she was supposed to come here or I was supposed to go to the Arkadia hospital?"

"I am afraid I do not," Lexa says apologetically, with a last, loving kiss. Then she goes to pull on her clothes. Clarke watches sadly as smooth, tanned skin and white bandages are swiftly covered in layers of dark clothing. Somehow Lexa manages to dress quickly and neatly despite still being barely able to move her left side.

Clarke feels a pang of concern she struggles to dismiss, wondering if Lexa's arm is really healing. Of course, it takes a long time to heal from being literally impaled, but she's never seen Lexa so unwell for so long and it worries her. She decides that when she goes to see her mother she'll ask if there's anything more they can do. If they have any leftover medicines from the Ark, they shouldn't save them for later, they should use them now to ensure Lexa makes a quick, full recovery.

After Lexa's gone it takes Clarke a while to get enough motivation to pull herself up and get dressed. She makes a mental note that she should take a bath soon – she had one spongebath when she was still bedridden after being dug out of the ground, and a couple while she was staying in Nia's palace before she escaped, but now that she thinks about it she hasn't had a proper wash since she was kidnapped. She hasn't really noticed, though, since everyone was fairly unwashed. Lexa probably needs a bath as well – perhaps they could save water by sharing, Clarke thinks, dwelling on the mental picture for a second.

When she enters the main room she realises almost immediately that she's interrupted something important.

"My opinion should not matter," Gustus growls, glaring down at Zion from his extra foot of height. "Heda has given orders."

Zion glares back, striking the table with his fist in frustration – considerably surprising Clarke, who's pretty sure she's never seen him angry before. And it's bizarre that he's angry at Gustus, since they seemed to hit it off the moment they met and Clarke doesn't think they've exchanged an unfriendly word since that moment. "Heda has given me a choice."

"If Heda wishes something, there is no choice," Gustus says flatly.

"And if there were a choice, what would you -" Zion breaks off suddenly, spotting Clarke at the doorway, and flushes bright red. "Wanheda," he says tightly, "Please excuse me." He turns and stalks away, every line of his body tense.

Gustus flushes slightly too, although it's less noticeable. "Good morning, Clarke kom Skaikru," he says with a calmness that's obviously forced.

"Morning, Gus," Clarke replies cautiously. "Can you tell me what that's all about?"

Gus flushes even redder. "It is nothing of importance," he says stiffly.

"Really? Because it sounded like you were taking about whether Zion should be Fleimkepa," Clarke points out. "That's definitely something of importance. To me, to Lexa, to... well, everyone."

She stares at Gustus. He's the one who looks away first. "Zion kom Azgeda wants to know if I wish him to become Fleimkepa," he finally says. "Or if I wish him to return to Azgeda, or to join a gonakru near Polis, or to take another path. He wants to know if – if I want him near."

Clarke blinks. "Wait. Are you two -?" She can feel a smile pulling at her lips.

Gustus shrugs restlessly and turns away. "Perhaps," he admits roughly. "But that only complicates matters. We both agree our first loyalty must be to the alliance and that we cannot be distracted by such things. I am Heda's bodyguard. What I wish for does not matter."

"Sounds like it matters to him," Clarke says practically. "For that matter, I'm pretty sure it matters to Lexa too. I think she'd be happy for both of you. I mean, unless the thing with Zion is just a fling, then I guess it could make things awkward when you break up."

"A... a fling?"

"A short relationship," Clarke clarifies. "A temporary, non-serious one."

"No," Gustus says thoughtfully. "I do not believe that is what it is. But we both have other priorities. Heda must be my first priority." He gives her the smallest possible smirk. "And we do not all rush to be bonded as quickly as you do."

Clarke looks at him. "Lexa told you?"

He gives her a confused look. "You told me, Clarke kom Skaikru."

"What? No I didn't," Clarke disagrees.

He continues looking at her like she's slightly mad. "You showed me the sheath you wear in your hair. Heda's sheath."

"What?" Clarke asks. "Wait. How do Grounders usually propose?"

Gustus shrugs. "It varies by clan. But the Trikru suggest bonding by offering up the item that matters most to them, something that is truly a piece of their soul. The one they have offered it to accepts this and gives them a similar item in return. I know that nothing matters more to Heda than the last gift Costia ever gave her. And she wears a Skaikru contraption on her wrist that I thought came from you?"

Clarke casts her mind back. "Oh. Oh, wow. I gave my father's watch to her... and she gave me the sheath..." And I told her she was the person I loved the most, as well, Clarke remembers. A bunch of other small details – Lexa's nervousness when she put the watch on and her unwillingness to leave it behind even when she came to Azgeda territory again, her immediate, matter-of-fact acceptance when Clarke brought up marriage before the Mountain, the reverence Gustus showed when he braided the sheath into her hair...

I even thought at the time that it felt exactly like a wedding ceremony, Clarke thinks, torn between amusement at her stupidity and the desire to go find Lexa right away and kiss her again.

"Normally bonding occurs soon after the offer," Gustus says, eyeing her. "Often it is done as soon as a skilled tattooist can be found to do the bonding tattoos. Since it is between Heda and Wanheda, though, it is understandable that you have delayed until the alliance is secure."

Clarke flushes slightly. "I'm working on drawing the tattoos right now," she admits. "I've noticed there's a lot of variation in design, although they all have the same basic concepts, and I want to come up with something that utilises elements from all of the clans instead of just Trikru or Skaikru -" she breaks off. "And you brought this up to distract me from what our conversation was actually about. If you want him to be in Polis, tell Zion that."

"I do not know how Heda would feel about a relationship between her bodyguard and the Fleimkepa," Gustus reiterates.

"Well, I do," Clarke retorts. "She'd want you to be happy and she'd tell you that sometimes duty and love can coexist. I can ask her to confirm if you like – but since I'm not only her second-in-command but her soon-to-be wife I think I can state pretty confidently she's going to side with me on this one -"

"Her soon-to-be WHAT?" A shriek comes from behind Clarke.

Clarke closes her eyes for a moment, then swings around and tries to smile. "Hi, Mom. What are you doing here?"

"Check-up, remember?" Abby grinds the words out. "When you didn't turn up at the hospital I came to find you. But don't you dare try and change the subject, young lady. Did you just say you're getting married?"

"Um," Clarke knows her smile is weak, but it's the best she can manage. "Surprise?"