fragile | clexa

chapter thirty three

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When Lexa called Lincoln inside the tent to tell her exactly what had happened, the guard looked downright scared. Lexa had woken up a few minutes prior, checked up on Clarke like a miracle might have happened and then instantly sent for Lincoln.

"I was practicing memory with her. I got the cards from Berta and she wanted me to see how well Clarke can remember what she's seen and associate that with a current situation. We were playing as normal and I tried to engage her into a bit of conversation, like the old lady wanted me to do too. It was all well, Clarke's memory really is exceptional and she seemed to have fun.
As usual, around seven I went to get our dinner and her medications. She has been eating very well lately. Of course I made sure whether she was okay with me leaving. She reassured me to go, I told the guards to be extra careful and went. When I came back around five to ten minutes later, the guards were not at their post. Clarke was in the tent on the ground, with one of the guards atop of her trying to push a knife through her head. I was there just in time to push the guard off her. The rest you know. I brought her unconscious body here and sent a scout to Polis."

"Where is the guard?" Lexa asked, anger layering her voice.

"He's in the prison dungeon."

"The other one?"

"He was hit unconcious by his companion, but it seems he's innocent," Lincoln said, fighting to keep his voice steady. His fidgeting hands betrayed him. "I'm sorry Heda. I feel so bad for leaving her and am obviously ready for any consequences."

"Don't," Lexa bit out. "It is your fault in the very least. Go back to your family in Polis and inform Anya of my stay here."

"How long will you stay?"

"As long as it takes for her to be okay."

Lincoln nodded. "Of course. Thank you Heda for your generosity."

-

Lexa had an extraordinarily bad night. Or was it day?

It didn't matter. She didn't sleep regardless of the time of the day. Her forehead was covered in sweat although the healers tent was both darkened and cooled, her body was restless and she was overly irritated towards anyone trying to talk to her.

Clarke soon got a private section in the healers tent. They were mainly for long-term patients or people hurt bad enough to need more privacy than others. She also got a bed that was twice as big as she would've needed it too, most certainly because Lexa spend 24 hours a day in the healers tent on a chair next to Clarke's bed. So as Clarke was being moved, Nyko took the chair and Lexa was too tired to fight it. She just collapsed on the very edge of Clarke's bed so that she wouldn't hurt the girl in any way.

That was two days after she had arrived. It was also the first time she slept in that time.

Clarke was starting to be fed through injections. Lexa was huddled next to her all the time and somehow, she couldn't care about healers seeing her in such a vulnerable state. Nyko did most of the work anyway.

After a week, Clarke had made no progress, at least not coma-wise. Her rib was healing, her bruises turning yellow instead of blue and it calmed Lexa insanely that her brain seemed well enough to do so. Also, healers had at least tried to fix her leg. For that, they had kicked Lexa out more or less politely.

She came back with a bunch of flowers and a vase she put on Clarke's nightstand. "I brought you flowers again," she said softly as she sat on the bed. "Forget-me-nots. They're all over the place now. Do you remember when I took you out to the cherry trees? The whole meadow is purple with forget-me-nots and other flowers now. It smells like heaven. Give the trees a few more weeks and the cherries will be perfectly fine too," she spoke. Her eyes fell on Clarke's unmoved face half. "I hope you'll be awake by then Clarke. I would take you to pick cherries."