archenemy | clexa

thirty

Half the camp is sick. Several already died. The healers have no idea what it is.

Lexa figures as much out as she can, orders an immediate quarantine and as much health care as possible, no unnecessary touching and cloths over mouths if there has to be an interaction, the best Skaikru doctors to find a cure.

As she hurries to her own tent late at night, she realizes how worn she is. Worn physically by all the fighting and walking, by the ice that has settled in her bones, worn emotionally by her thoughts that wouldn't shut up, worn mentally by all the what-ifs and figuring a plan for this sickness out. On top of that, Costia's words keep coming back to her and she can't stop them.

What if someone brought this sickness in? What if it's another war crime, another traitor?

On her way to the tent, Lexa thinks she'll go to bed with these thoughts, thinks that these thoughts will be the ones to keep her awake.

It turns out, they're all wiped away immediately when she's in the tent, throwing her armor off and-

"Clarke?" Lexa asks, stiff of cold and soreness and the panic now flooding her. Clarke is lying in bed, her forehead coated in sweat and her face as pale as a corpse's. She's already been taken care of by a healer, Lexa can tell by the flasks on her nightstand and the wet, white cloth discarded on the bed, but Lexa rushes closer nonetheless. "Did you get sick too?"

"No, Lexa, this weather is just so hot, I can't stand all the ice and snow without sweating. It's not doing my tan any good though, I guess I got a little pale."

Clarke's voice isn't warm and soft anymore but throaty and scratchy. Lexa kneels by her bedside to feel her forehead and immediately, her frozen fingers are heated almost uncomfortably. "Clarke, you're burning hot."

The woman attempts a grin and winks. "Thank you."

"Can you quit it? I'm serious."

"What am I supposed to do? I know," Clarke sighs exasperated and it sounds like every word is putting a strain on her voice.

"Dozens of people have died within hours! Clarke- you might-"

Instead of giving a snide remark like Lexa expects, Clarke sighs again and settles into her pillow more comfortably then closes her eyes. "So? I told you yesterday that I might die today. I didn't say that to be philosophical. It's because no one expects to die young but so many do and I'm not really that special. It's because I could fall asleep and not wake up tonight and that's okay."

"That's- Clarke, please, what the hell about that is- what?"

"What, Lexa? What do you want from me? Did you think I said everything I did yesterday to be funny? Because I was in a rush of something? Not at all. I was appointed to be executed months and months ago. It's only luck that brought me here. I got to be on Earth, got to eat fresh fruits and smell flowers, got to see life from this perspective, had more time with my friends and mom, got to meet Lin and a couple other nice Grounders, got to have you. It's fine."

"Got to have me, huh," Lexa repeats and can't help a grin of her own. "You're getting emotional."

"Oh fuck off. Nothing like some good old hate feelings. The rest is nice too, at points."

Lexa huffs, effectively masking her worry. "Do you want a tea? Soup?"

"I don't have any appetite, thank you. Enough talking done. Leave now."

"What?"

"They're preparing a tent for you, didn't anyone tell you? No worries, you'll get a good bed, they didn't want to move me."