archenemy | clexa

forty one

"I feel like no one sticks to the quarantine anyway," Clarke complains with her toothbrush between her teeth. It sounds more like 'a felak na an schicks to de kawantain anniewai'.

"Most people do, especially those who are sick and get in touch with sick people. But I agree, I do not like it either. Not just being mostly locked in one place, but also the war. It's making me nervous."

Clarke spits out the toothpaste and washes out her mouth with water. "You think they're going to attack?"

"They might. Or at least make a new plan or something. War is normally steady, not paused for so long. I'm sick of it. It's cold here and we almost have them cornered. If we really fight for it, we'll have them done as soon as war begins again and then just the castle."

"And then?"

"Back to Polis with victory. It'll be spring by then. We will have a celebration," Lexa says dreamily and Clarke raises her brows after drying her face. It looks barer, purer now that she has washed the paint and dirt and everything the day has brought off it.

"What are your feasts like?"

"Oh, they're beautiful. The whole city is dancing and eating and drinking and everything is bright and ecstatic. The kids sleep in this huge hayloft over the stalls of the Heda's horses and the workers have a week off and most wake up naked in a bed they don't know. It's like a bigger version of our warrior feasts. You should know those."

Clarke grins. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to bed."

"I'll be there in a second."

-

Clarke wakes up in the middle of the night to sharp cramps that seem to eat up her entire stomach from the inside. She curls up and groans, her head going a little dizzy from the sleepiness and the sudden realization of pain. The tent is black now, candles blown out by the wind that has found a leak in the tent and ripped a canvas from its place, whistling and icy.

It's almost like those night when Clarke was sick and had so many nightmares, waking up in pain and disoriented. Now, she has at least enough coordination to wake Lexa gently. "Lexa," she rasps. She needs one of these pain medicines in the bathroom, but she isn't sure if she's able to take one step. Her entire body has cramped up and her forehead feels too hot.

"Lexa," louder.

There's a half-asleep, "Leave me alone," before Clarke repeats Lexa's name once again. "What?" Lexa asks eventually and Clarke can tell she has submitted to her fate and opened her eyes. Though instead of waiting for the answer to her question or saying anything else, Lexa moves so suddenly that Clarke can hear a thud that was probably something falling off Lexa's nightstand or Lexa bumping against it. "Clarke?" Lexa's voice is suddenly panicked and she touches the bed around her frantically, until she has finally grasped Clarke's shoulder. "Clarke, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me." Clarke hand holds Lexa's just to make sure Lexa knows it really is Clarke.

"Is anybody here? Where are the candles? Shit."

Clarke hears uneven breathing growing faster and shorter and she feels her way to properly touch Lexa, holding her arms. "Lexa, calm down. It's okay. The wind blew out the candles. Wait, let me search for matches, I have some in my nightstand."

"Don't let go of me."

"I won't."

Clarke keeps holding Lexa's hand while stretching the other to find a match. "I need to let go for a moment to light it," she informs Lexa softly, and the hand that has grown uncomfortably tight around Clarke's loosens only slowly.

Clarke lights the match as soon as her hand is free and lights several candles at once, ignoring the pain in her stomach that's growing worse, until there's a dim light and Lexa can see her.

Fright has crawled into the green of Lexa's eyes, one of her hands clutching the pillow, the other a dagger. As soon as she can see their surroundings again, she takes the hand from the pillow and uses it to keep Clarke back, still searching for a threat in the tent.

"It's okay, you can put that down. No one's here but us," Clarke says and carefully pries tense, whitened knuckles from the handle. She gives Lexa a little kiss on the cheek after putting the knife on Lexa's nightstand and can't help a small, comforting smile. "You're afraid of the dark?"

There's a short pause and then Lexa says, "Yeah. Why else would I have so many candles?"

"I don't know, maybe you just love them."

"I do. I do, but it makes me nervous to go without them. I prefer knowing what's going on around me and who's there."

Clarke hums, her pain barely making it possible to concentrate on speaking much. God, she would like to say something though, say how impossibly strong Lexa must be if she has lived through attacks at night, attacks when she was vulnerable, the fear that someone is out to kill her every second, and can still sleep.

But before Clarke can even try to express her admiration, Lexa tenses again and her eyes sharpen. "You're bleeding. What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

Clarke's eyes follow Lexa's to her thigh, where the nightgown has ridden up and exposed a blood-smeared thigh. Worse, the blood-smeared silk of her gown. "Shit. That explains it."

"Are you on your- what do you call it? Period?"

"Yeah, apparently it's early, I'm so sorry Lexa, fuck, I was going to wake you because of cramps and I thought I might be sick again- shit, I'm so sorry."

"For what? It's okay."

"It's not okay, I almost gave you a panic attack. Also, I definitely got my new gown bloody and this fur."

"Whatever. We'll have it cleaned. It's okay," Lexa repeats, already getting up. "Would you like a bath? I'll make you pumpkin soup. Lin probably has pumpkins, she'll help me, it won't take long."

"Oh don't you wake her up in the middle of the night. It's bad enough that you are awake because of this."

Lexa makes a dismissive hand gesture and stands in front of Clarke, who just wants to sink into the bed and never appear again. "Is it fine if I carry you?"

"Lexa-"

"You can hardly move, I'm telling you cramps this bad are not normal. Let me carry you."

"I'll get you bloody."

"I don't care."

So Lexa lifts Clarke up and carries her into the bathroom, heating water over the fireplace (which the wind also put out) and filling the bathtub. She lights candles in the bathroom too, helps Clarke take off her gown and lowers her gently into the tub. "How is the water? Warm enough?"

"Perfect."

"Okay. Here's your medication, I'll be right back."

"Please, Lexa, don't make your stupid pumpkin soup now. Go to bed. You've done enough."

"It's not stupid, it's very helpful. Relax, wash the blood off your thighs, take your medicine, and I'll take care of the rest. I put out fresh clothes for you."

Clarke looks up at Lexa and, before she can leave, motions her to come closer to the bathtub. "What is it, do you need something?"

"Yeah, come down here."

So Lexa kneels next to the bathtub and Clarke presses a gentle kiss to her lips. "Thank you, I love you."

Lexa's heart skips a beat. Trying to regain her composure, she attempts a smile and gives Clarke a short kiss back. "Take care of yourself, scream if you need help, the guards will hear you."

It's not the same as 'I love you too' but then again, it kind of is.

Lexa leaves and only when she's gone does Clarke realize that Lexa visiting Lin is likely breaking some kind of quarantine rule again.

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