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The day went by pretty lazily and not without Clarke freaking out about herself. They didn't mention that night again. Over the following week, they simply visited Artigas, Clarke started helping cleaning the horse too, she started relearning how to walk properly, build muscle and she even talked to Lincoln after she had been asked to.
( What's your name?
- Clarke. )
She had been pretty proud of that. That medicine she was taking seemed to help too, since in that week, together with the walking, her body grew the tiniest bit of fat and muscle on her thighs and upper arms. It was so little, she only noticed it while washing herself- she'd purposefully saved up the energy over the day before to be able to lift that soap properly.
Her walking skills had improved to a total record of 56 steps. Very little one, but it was enough for once around Lexa's tent with help. 22 with her cane.
Oh, that was another thing. She had gotten a cane. Finely carved, light wood with a knob for her hand to support herself on. She had even gotten crutches, but she barely managed to use the cane yet and two crutches with that lack of arm muscle just wouldn't work just then.
Clarke slept a lot during the nights, exhausted from all the activity she wasn't used to in her life. Her nightmares were as bad as ever and each time, she felt worse for waking Lexa up with them. When she didn't sleep, which she really did try to do, she longed to get the night back where she'd hugged Lexa in her sleep.
She wanted the breathing back to concentrate on and she wanted to feel Lexa's warmth instead of only the furs', if just to keep herself awake. Of course she didn't say that, or attempt anything. She knew her place.
She knew her place until they were on a horse ride again and Clarke pretended to fall asleep in Lexa's arms to have the woman carry her back to the tent. There, she acted like her unconscious held onto Lexa a bit- honestly, she'd never felt so brave and only rarely had held her breath like that- until Lexa first sat down and then, after a really long time, laid down too.
She started stroking over Clarke's back carefully, tucked Clarke in and then, she held her close for the entire night.
The next day, she sent Clarke to spend time with Lincoln just outside of the tent to have someone else to talk to and because Lexa had received a letter from Anya that she still had to answer to.
So Lincoln was right outside the tent, by the closest tree enjoying the early spring sun, sitting with Clarke and assisting her with trainings for her arms.
Lexa, after writing her letter, set up a second easel with a second canvas. She didn't know how Clarke would react if her easel with her painting of Lexa and Artigas would be gone and replaced and since her tent was big enough anyway, there were two easels next to each other now.
She put fresh colors next to it, some brushes, and it was a clear offer for Clarke to just paint some more if she wanted to.
When Lincoln was done and Clarke was back in the tent, Lexa let dinner be brought, and until it was set up fully, she took her opportunity to talk to the blonde.
"Clarke?" Lexa asked the girl carefully, who sat on her chair with her shoulders typically stiff and her face looking a little exhausted. Her head snapped up a little at her name called.
"Yes?"
"Do you want to tell me about what you've been doing with Lincoln?"
Clarke looked somewhat surprised. "I did not manage a lot," she admitted.

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fragile | clexa
FanfictionA bedslave as a present from Titus is the last way Lexa expects the day to end. A thin, weightless girl that is littered with bruises and cuts, brainwashed to serve. Lexa, as the Heda, doesn't really have the best relationships to people and thus, d...