"You are not eating enough," Gustus grumbles, fretting over Clarke as she forces down the last of the bread. "I will tell him to bring more later."
Clarke rolls her eyes. "I'm sure he's bringing everything he can, Gus." Frankly, she's not so bothered by her hunger as she is by her frustration. She and Gustus are both healing up well here, and it's reasonably warm, but lying around quietly in a hidden basement twenty-four hours a day is going to drive her mad pretty quickly.
"I am not so sure," Gustus says, voice a rumble of displeasure. "He should go without food if you need more. He made vows to the Commander and the alliance. As her second-in-command, those vows are to you as well."
"Well, I don't need more food," Clarke says reasonably. "I'm fine. I don't want him to starve for me, regardless of what vows he made to the alliance." She looks at him in the half-darkness. "Why did he agree to be a spy for Lexa, anyway? If you remember."
Gustus sighs, some of the annoyance going out of his frame. "For this one, I do remember. Years ago, when Azgeda and Trikru were still at war and Heda had only just ascended, he lived near the border. His daughter was a Seken and her unit was attacked by one of ours and nearly all were killed. The rest were taken to Polis as prisoners to be interrogated. Lexa gave orders not to harm the girl because of her youth, Assan came south and promised his service for her life, and she was returned to him." He looks lost in memories. "After that Assan moved north, and since then he has been tireless in seeking information for Heda, even though his daughter is now grown." He glances at Clarke and his lips quirk into the ghost of a smile. "Did you ask this story so I would remember his past loyalty and be less critical?"
"That depends," Clarke says jokingly. "Did it work?"
"Perhaps," Gustus says evasively, though even in the darkness she can see the amusement in his eyes.
"I guess that means it's my turn to tell a story," Clarke comments. "I think I'm running out, though."
The floor above them is too close for them to even really sit up, so for training they've been limited to things like push-ups and half-sit-ups. Apart from the food Assan brings to them and the regular brief trips above to do things like go to the bathroom and breathe fresh air, there's really nothing to do here. They quiet when there's the sound of conversation above as someone visits Assan, but they've been filling the rest of the time with whispered conversation. Gustus's stories are terse and non-descriptive, and Clarke's are filled with self-interruptions as she clarifies what different things on the Ark are, but it's better than nothing.
Of course, she could tell him the greatest story she has. The story of travelling in time. But if there's anyone who should get to decide whether to tell him that story, it's Lexa.
"I have been meaning to speak to you about something more important," Gustus says, suddenly grave. He passes something into Clarke's hands.
She realises what it is from the texture more than the look of it. "The book Titus told me to get," she says.
"Sha. You are the Fleimkepa. It is yours now."
"No, it's not," Clarke says, trying to pass it back to him.
"Titus gave it to you."
"And I gave it to you," Clarke points out. "I don't want to be a religious leader, especially not of this religion. And I already have a job. And a relationship, for that matter – I'm guessing the Fleimkepa dating the Commander wouldn't be allowed."
"I cannot be the Fleimkepa," Gustus insists, an edge to his voice. "I cannot -"
"Why not?"
Gustus hesitates, then says flatly. "Reading is common among your people, from what you have told me. It is not common among mine."
Clarke blinks. She knew that already, but for some reason, this is the first time the fact really connects. "You can't read the book."
"No. A letter here or there, perhaps – Heda has taught me to recognise a few of them just in case," he says gruffly. She realises, surprised, that he's embarrassed by his lack of knowledge. "We have used the letter 'S' as a symbol of trouble, for example. Because it looks like a snake. But as for reading – knowing what they do together, all of them – no. It would take years of learning before I could guess a single word." He lets out a bitter laugh. "We cannot be scholars and geniuses like Skaikru are. When we are goufa, we must learn to fight, we must learn to hunt, learn to skin, learn to build, learn to survive."
"Sorry," Clarke says softly, realising she's hurt his feelings, made him feel like he's failed even though he could never have foreseen her handing a book to him and calling him Fleimkepa without warning. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I'd be dead if it wasn't for you. If you want to learn, I can teach you how to read. Otherwise, we can definitely find another person to be Fleimkepa when we get back. Now that the Nightbloods won't have a conclave maybe one of them could even be Fleimkepa for a while – they know how to read, right?"
"Sha," he says, relaxing again. "Sha, they do."
Suddenly there's noise from above – multiple footsteps, accompanied by urgent voices – and they both go silent. Assan must have more people over. Out of his guests, at least one group so far were there to search the place, but they hadn't found the door to the hidden basement. Clarke's not even sure she could find it and she's seen it be opened multiple times, heard that little squeak of resistance as it's pulled up. The Azgeda are apparently just really good at making hiding places – which is probably a reflection of Nia's ruling style.
Clarke moves to press her ear to the ceiling – well, the floor, but it's the ceiling for them. She can hear Assan speak, just barely. "There.... –thing I must.... –ow you," she manages to make out. Gustus stiffens at the exact moment she does. Something he needs to show them – it can't be them, can it? No. He wouldn't do that. It can't be.
Then it comes. The little squeak of the door, followed by the flood of light above them. Assan's decided his loyalty doesn't extend this far, apparently. He's giving them up. Clarke realises she's shaking with fear and tension.
"Natrona," Gustus spits quietly and hauls himself out, swords already moving.
Clarke's blinded by the light but she follows anyway, swinging her sword at the hazy figure to her left. She hears Assan cry out and block Gustus's blow as the man she aims for staggers backwards in surprise. His reaction calms her a little. Her eyes clear enough to notice the shock on his face only a second or two before she notices who he is.
Recognition is swiftly followed by doubt and confusion as she pulls back. "Zion?" she says dumbly. It's been quite a while since she last saw him, heading off for Polis with the other Azgeda survivors from the Maunon ambush, and his facial hair is somewhat more extreme now, but she's sure it's him.
His eyes widen in turn. But it's a gasp from behind him that pulls all of Clarke's attention immediately.
Lexa steps past Zion. Clarke hears the clunk as Gustus's swords hit the floor, hears his shocked exclamation of "Heda!" She doesn't look around though, doesn't focus on anything but the vivid green eyes that have haunted her dreams, the solemn face framed by dark braids, even as her eyes become too filled with tears to see her properly.
Lexa's expression breaks down, usual impassiveness turning into a kind of stunned joy, eyes shining with new tears, and she abandons all of her usual calm façade as she launches herself at Clarke at the same moment Clarke runs towards her. They slam into each other, embracing so tightly and forcefully that it feels like they won't ever be able to separate, twirling around in amazement and disbelief. For a second someone starts to say something – possibly thinking they're wrestling instead of hugging, which would be understandable – but then someone else shushes him.
Clarke presses her face into Lexa's neck, her lips against it, feeling the softness of it, but even more than that feeling the steady pulse of life, the warmth flowing through her. She thought she was cold in the snow and the basement would help her get warm, but she knows now that she would be cold no matter where she went, because the coldness was since Lexa wasn't with her and Lexa needed to be with her.
Every little pain in her body goes away, her ankle's slight throbbing dying down immediately, her headache easing, the hole inside her knitting itself shut because Lexa is here. She wanted to go home so badly, but home came to her, home is here, it's Lexa, it's always Lexa. Clarke finds herself saying fervently and incoherently "Lexa, Lexa, Lexa," into Lexa's neck over and over again, tears tracing their way down her face as she rubs it against her fiancée. She used to think you couldn't belong to people but she is Lexa's and Lexa is hers and she needs her.
Lexa seems no more controlled, sobbing "Yu nou stedaun, yu nou stedaun", chanting it as if it's a prayer: you're not dead. You're not dead.
Eventually they manage to pull apart, even if only so they can look at each other's faces.
"You are alive," Lexa says, voice choked.
"Yeah," Clarke says, reaching up to touch Lexa's cheek lightly. "So are you."
"Sha. Ai hod yu in, ai niron."
"Ai hod yu in," Clarke echoes, feeling a smile split her face. She leans in and kisses Lexa joyfully and passionately, fisting a hand in Lexa's hair to ground herself and nipping at her bottom lip before pushing her tongue in, feeling her heart start to pound faster –
There's a series of loud, hacking coughs from behind her, and Lexa pulls back from Clarke, flushed and panting. She clears her throat and takes a further step back.
"Get a room, guys," Raven says croakily, and Clarke blushes bright red in realisation and embarrassment. She'd completely forgotten anyone else was there.
She turns to glare at her friend, only to be taken aback by her appearance. Raven's face is also flushed, but not healthily, and it's obvious Lincoln is holding her upright. Beneath her sweat her skin is waxy, her eyes are dull, she's shivering, she seems to find it difficult to breathe properly, and Clarke can nearly see the heat radiating off her. Looking at Clarke she tries to force a smile but fails and falls into a coughing fit. "Lie her down flat," Clarke orders, immediately forgetting about everything else. Raven is sick, she can see that just by looking at her.
"I like a little more romance than that," Raven manages to say before she's caught by another coughing fit. Lincoln helps her to lie down.
Clarke presses her ear against Raven's chest and sighs in relief. No crackling hoarseness to it.
Not pneumonia, at least.
Probably just a really bad, untreated cold, Clarke guesses. Untreated by Skaikru medicine, anyway, and Raven wouldn't have realised she had to tell someone when it was getting worse and it wouldn't just gradually pass like colds on the Ark normally did, disappearing as the sufferer went a bit slower and stayed a bit warmer. Raven was unaccustomed to weather like this, unused to this kind of exertion, and had been wearing herself down gradually since she came down from the Ark – if it hadn't been for the work done to them up on the Ark to make them more disease resistant, she probably would have gotten sick much earlier. She's been exhausted and cold and had no real rest, so her body's reacting far worse than it would normally.
Well, she's in a warm place now.
Lexa's looking at her, eyes wide and worried. "We have been doing all we can," she says, clearly forcing her voice to stay calm. "Especially Linkon. But it was not safe to go any direction but north, Linkon has limited supplies, being carried is not the same as truly being able to rest, and it seemed like we did not have enough blankets to keep her warm."
"Liquids," Clarke says firmly. "Wrap her in as many blankets as possible and we'll force as much water into her as possible. Lincoln, can I have a look at your meds?"
"Can you stop talking about me like I'm not here?" Raven snaps crankily. "Jeez, a girl gets the flu and suddenly everyone -" she starts coughing convulsively again.
Clarke pauses just for a second as she goes to grab Lincoln's medical bag, and presses a swift but fierce kiss on Lexa. "Mochof, ai hodnes," she says quietly. "Thank you for coming for me."
"Thank you for being here," Lexa says back.