It takes as long as it takes. That is one of the Commander’s first lessons, and it is one she has needed to use so often that it has become ingrained in her. Heda has lived a hundred years and will live a thousand more, so an hour means nothing, is nothing. The Commander spirit knows this, and is calm – Lexa knows this as well, however her calmness takes far more effort, for she is a person and not a spirit and prey to the weaknesses that causes. But it is still possible for her to wait, to be still.
So once again she sits patiently as Clarke paces, as they wait for the return of Indra and the two dozen gona with her. Or whatever remains of them, at least. It is the first move in a game of chess, Lexa knows – you do not play your pawns carefully, fearful that one might be taken. You accept that some will die from the start and resolve that if they must, they will die for a purpose, a cause. They will die for a greater victory. This attack is to convince the Maunon they are weak and desperate, clutching at straws, going for the generators because that is the only idea they have.
They may lose a pawn, today. But she does not intend they should lose the game.
Her fingers itch to touch Clarke, but she shouldn’t. Indra could return at any moment. Lexa clears her throat. “Remind me how this ‘hacking’ works, Clarke kom Skaikru?” she asks casually.
Clarke pauses in her pacing. She must know Lexa’s trying to distract her, but it still works. “It’s… it’s hard to explain. Mostly because I’m not that great with technology either.”
“Maybe I can help,” Monty says, opening the tent flap. His face is a light shade of green. Jasper, following him, is the same. They look worse than any Seken Lexa has ever seen on the eve of battle. “If it’s okay. That we’re in here, I mean. We just kind of -“
“That would be appreciated, Monty Green,” Lexa says coolly, eyeing them. She can work out why they’re seeking the company of her and Clarke now – they are scared, whereas she and Clarke appear to know what they are doing. They wish for that comfort. She will act as confident as they wish her to be. “So. What is ‘hacking’?”
“It’s, uh, you kind of, you take over someone else’s computers,” Jasper says, taking over. He looks unnerved that Lexa knows his friend’s name. “They want it to do one thing – like in this case, keep us out – and then we type a bunch of stuff and their computer does what we want and lets us in. The doom-bot turns against his evil overlord and fights by our side.”
Lexa raises an eyebrow, making it clear just by her expression that this is not a useful explanation and that she is not amused. Clarke looks a little amused, though.
Monty coughs, and speaks up. “Have you ever seen a rock which is big and strong, but as soon as you hit it in exactly the right place, it breaks apart?” he says, sounding a little calmer than Jasper. “Or it happens with metal, sometimes, too. Just one weak spot, even though everything else is strong.”
“I have,” Lexa says. She has seen the former at the Rock Line clan, and the latter in other’s poorly made weapons.
“Right,” Monty says, looking a bit relieved that he got a positive response. “It’s like that, except with computers – the ones that control the doors, and the acid fog, and pretty much all things in a high-technology society. Sometimes they have one weak spot. The right numbers and letters are like hitting that spot. Except when you do, they don’t just break – they become yours.”
“I see,” Lexa says, interested in spite of herself. These Sky People do not understand how to make food or hunt or build or anything at all. They live off things made a hundred years ago. But when it comes to some things, they know worlds that her people never have. “Perhaps someday you will have to become a ticha, so that our goufa may learn of these things.”
“The Skaikru are planning to give the Trikru some technology in return for everything,” Clarke comments, “If they’re going to do that, it would be a good idea to teach them how to use it.”
“Skaikru?” Jasper says, tone teasing, though he does glance nervously at Lexa as he speaks. “You sound like you’re not one of us anymore. Where’s your loyalty, Clarke?”
“Right where it should be,” Clarke says firmly, sending Lexa a small, secret smile.
There’s a pause. “Why aren’t they back yet?” Jasper says plaintively. “I hope O’s okay. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask, are she and Lincoln -“
“Completely and absolutely a couple,” Clarke says, leaving no room for interpretation. “I really wouldn’t try and hit on her, if I was you.”
“You think he’d beat me up?”
“I think she’d beat you up. Lincoln’s pretty easy-going,” Clarke says. “Octavia is… not.”
“Told you,” Monty mutters under his breath.
Jasper sighs. “I really thought there was a spark there.”
“Clarke? Heda?” Raven’s voice comes through the tent-flap.
“Enter,” Lexa says evenly.
Raven slumps to the ground as soon as she’s inside. She’s also a bit pale. “Waiting sucks. Can I blow something up? I’d feel so much better if I could throw a grenade someplace.”
“Later, Raven kom Skaikru,” Lexa promises. Her heart aches a little. She thinks that if they all survive this, it will be hard for her to return to Polis, even with Clarke there. If either Anya or Indra return with them, that will help, but the truth is she will still be lacking many of the people who she is able to be just Lexa around. She will never be able to be anything but Heda to the coalition, or to whichever adults the Skaikru send as ambassador and appoint as leader.
Her brief closeness with Raven, Octavia, even Wells, will fade and be forgotten.
“You guys never let me blow up anything,” Raven grumbles. “Despite all your promises. It’s like -“
Raven cuts herself off as Lexa raises a hand. There is noise outside. “They have returned.” She lets her gaze rest on Clarke’s face. “We will have to see if they succeeded.”
She leaves the tent, all of them waiting for her to go in front of them. Outside is Indra, bleeding copiously from her shoulder, although she makes no effort to staunch it. Instead she bows to her Heda. “Clarke,” Lexa says, not taking her eyes of Indra.
Clarke nods and moves to Indra’s side, yanking bandages out of her bag. “It’s a bullet,” she says grimly. “Not a through and through, but it’s safer just to leave it in. It’s nearly always safer just to leave it in.”
“Are you sure?” Jasper says doubtfully, looking queasy.
“Completely.”
“Report, Indra,” Lexa says, not letting her concern show on her face.
Indra grunts and straightens, ignoring Clarke as the girl bandages her wounds. “They got Octavia,” she says gruffly.
“I see,” Lexa says, keeping her face emotionless, though she can see Clarke inhale sharply. “We will have to hope they choose to keep her alive, then.”
“We’ll know soon enough, I guess,” Clarke says darkly. She finishes bandaging Indra and looks at Lexa. “Time to go, then?”
Lexa nods. “Time for you to go, certainly,” she says. “You know when we will be there.” Lexa touches her fingers lightly to the silver watch on her wrist. Then she looks across the clearing. The gona around straighten their stance and quickly check their weapons, ready to leave whenever she is. The Skaikru standing and sitting around notice this and follow suit, some putting on their gas masks already. Only a dozen of them will leave now with Clarke, but it is good they all prepare themselves to go anyway.
The child from earlier is still there, far away from the gona and Skaikru, sitting on his mother’s lap as she makes faces at him. When she notices Lexa’s gaze on her, she removes the child from her lap, stands up and bows as Indra just did. She pushes lightly at the child’s back, perhaps to make him bow as well.
The boy makes it several steps before falling over. Clarke glances at Lexa, then walks over to help him up again. He’s bleeding from his mouth. Clarke wipes it off, then picks him up to make a funny face to him as well. He coughs lightly, sickness showing in the rough notes of it. Clarke kisses his forehead and hands him back to his mother. For a second the sight of Clarke holding the child makes Lexa’s heart lurch uncomfortably. Now, Clarke holds a child. In only moments, she will go to war.
Clarke comes back over, face grim, and Raven, Monty and Jasper move back from her automatically.
“I guess I’m ready to go,” Clarke says.
Lexa swallows. “I must give you one more thing, Clarke kom Skaikru,” she says coolly, and turns to enter the tent again.
Clarke follows her and as soon as they’re inside grabs her arm and whirls her around, kissing her fiercely. She digs the tips of her fingers into Lexa’s back as if she’s desperate to feel her through the layers of protective gear, and Lexa nearly whimpers. She presses back just as hard, until they’re clinging to each other as they were the night before, hands too rough and kisses too needy.
“Stay alive,” Lexa begs when Clarke pulls away for a second, well aware that it is a stupid request to make.
“I will, I will,” Clarke says, her voice a sob, and she tightens around Lexa like she’s the only thing holding her to this world. Because the Mountain is a nightmare for Clarke and she is about to walk right into it. Lexa can only hope she comes back out. “You too. Please. Please don’t leave me again.”
Lexa could say a lot of things. She could talk of her spirit finding another, or of how it was always her destiny as Commander to die young, or say if it is her time then it is her time. But instead, she says, “I won’t.” Because the spirit might live forever but Lexa wants to live right now. She doesn’t want to die young again and leave Clarke to grieve. She is greedy and foolish but she wants those precious days and weeks and years with her beautiful sky girl: she wants to fall asleep and wake up beside her, wants to laugh with her and cry with her, wants to build a world together, wants everything she never thought she could have. She wants love and hope and forever.
Clarke presses her forehead against Lexa’s, breathing a bit more evenly now. “Ai hod yu in, ai niron. May we meet again.”
“Ai hod yu in, Clarke kom Skaikru,” Lexa whispers, feeling a lone tear slip down her face. “May we meet again.”
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