fragile | clexa

chapter eighty

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Once they were back in the beach house, they took their time to relish their last days, and Lexa didn't stop telling Clarke just how proud she was.

It was fair though, wasn't it?

The lengths Clarke had gone, the wars she had won, the weights she had carried but had pushed on with anyway, landing them there; Clarke with muscles moving fairly smoothly under tan skin. Freckles, vibrant blue eyes, healthy golden hair. Clarke walking, swimming, riding a horse.

Clarke and all her character, all the colors hidden behind the facade of fear. Clarke, meeting a whole clan compromised on such little space, going to play with children instead of closing off or having a panic attack. Clarke, dancing and eating and drinking and talking to the people- men, too.

The woman Lexa had seen all along. The girl broken to pieces, locked up behind insurmountable walls, dedicated to die- there she was. She had glued her pieces back together in a new way, in a beautiful way, and had held Lexa's hand in the meanwhile, had let Lexa live with her inside her walls, had climbed up the walls with all injuries only to tear the bricks down one by one.

Indra and Anya had been upset beyond measure about Lexa tending to an unknown slave and Lexa had wondered about herself- even after her denial had crumbled, she could see clearly that she couldn't have loved the stranger that was delivered to her doorstep on that devastating evening.

She knew, now. On the way back to Polis, she found out. She had known. She had seen the woman behind the broken surface. She had seen the pinky clinging on for life weakly, and she had never wanted anything as much as she had wanted all of Clarke's terror and gold.

There were people who looked at Clarke and thought of her as 'weak'. Weak, because of what? Her slightly inferior physical strength? Her scars? Her trauma?

Were those the same people who had told Lexa that the only way to be respected was to be feared? The only way to be strong was to fight? To have muscles?

She wasn't sure. All she knew for sure was that on her way back to Polis, holding Clarke, she realized what a woman she could call her girlfriend once again. The strongest woman Lexa knew. The woman who had pushed back despite everyone kicking her down. The woman who had been slammed to the ground a thousand times, thrown off cliffs, and jumped again anyway in the trust that Lexa would catch her. The woman who had had an army of demons craving to defeat her, but instead of giving in, instead of running, she had stood her ground and faced them and slayed them all one by one.

Clarke had been told she didn't deserve an atom of dust, she had been shrunk to the size to fit in a box, and now there she was, taking up all the space that was rightfully hers. There she was, the woman who had made the entire cult kneel by her feet because instead of shrinking further and giving her last power to death, she had reclaimed every single bit of it and used it to save the world and taking everybody's breath away.

So yeah, Lexa was infinitely proud. And yet, her pride had never equaled her love. Her admiration for Clarke's strength had never equaled her admiration for anything, everything of Clarke.

If Lexa had grown up normal and Clarke had grown up normal, Lexa would have loved Clarke. If Clarke hadn't saved the world, Lexa would have loved Clarke. Lexa had loved Clarke through her coma, when she thought the girl would never wake up. Lexa had loved Clarke when she had kneeled by her side, finding out she was on her first period. Lexa had loved Clarke every single time her nightmares had woken them both up.

Lexa had loved Clarke when Clarke had kissed her hand after bandaging it, the night where Lexa had beaten up a shelf. Lexa had loved Clarke when she came to a deserted tent, and Clarke ended up being hurt in some way or other, and it had nearly given Lexa a heart attack. Lexa had loved Clarke when she hadn't been there, during her fights with Indra and Anya, during her nights alone.

Lexa had always loved Clarke. She wasn't sure when it had grown, but it had grown fast and no matter how proud Lexa was of Clarke's milestones, she loved her heart even more. The little things she did. The things that had made Lexa lose her mind, her sleep, her armor around her heart and those had had given her butterflies, cuddles, tears.

For once, Lexa actually felt sorry for Titus. He had taught her that love was weakness, so he must've never experienced it. Because this? It was deep-rooted in Lexa like nothing else could ever be. It only grew stronger every day. It was the kind of loyalty Lexa would die for, for real, voluntarily, not because the throne forced her to.

It was the kind of thing she wanted forever.

-

Abby and Jake grew more antsy over the days, even though they knew their daughter was supposed to be safe. Like she had been supposed to be with Finn.

In the second week that Clarke was gone, a letter arrived. It included an extensive report of Clarke's days and how amazing the sea was, and then several paintings and drawings of the sea, the beach, flowers, and whatever landscape Clarke had found interesting along the way, apparently.

One day after the letter, the two women arrived too- apparently the post didn't deliver often wherever they had gone, or it wasn't fast.

It was Abby who opened the door to Clarke, and after hugging her and checking if she was okay, she had to take in the image of her daughter once again.

Something about her... glowed. The tan skin, the nurtured blond hair, the stronger body- but something within her eyes sparkled too. Like she had let the ocean find refuge in her eyes, glimmering and shining and clear. Nothing like she had grown to know the 'new' Clarke.

"You look good."

"Thank you," Clarke said and she actually smiled, broadly and without hesitation and she was glad that Jake came rushed to hug his daughter because Abby needed a moment to process everything.

The Heda stood behind Clarke and watched the encounter patiently, letting Clarke's parents hug all their worry and wonder out before everyone was led into the kitchen. "I'll bake cupcakes, they'll be quick. Do you have enough time to stay for cupcakes, Heda?"

"I always have enough time for your cupcakes, ma'am," the Heda grinned and so did the rest of the family and to Jake, the world had never seemed so okay.

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