Fixing Clexa's story to give them an ending they deserved (an *ending, not the journey they deserved). They are clearly endgame but it turned into a bit more of an adult-themed journey to get there so just a warning it takes a slightly dark turn ar...
Clarke feels the soft fur against her neck before her eyes open, clusters of candles flicker in round metal holders on the ceiling overhead, and for a second she thinks she's back at the top of the tower in Polis. This can't possibly be right. She's groggy, wondering if everything she remembers from yesterday could have somehow just been a terrible dream. There's something vaguely familiar when she breathes in, the air smells of cedar and salted jerky, giving her Deja vu.
The room is much smaller than where she woke up the previous morning, but when she turns her head and notices the plethora of antlers on the wall, she's immediately oriented, and equally confused as to how she ended up here of all places.
The sharp pain in her side stabs at her with even the slightest move, even to inhale and call out to the other room. The pain is agonizing, a deep, throbbing stab over and over with each breath. She can't move or speak, so she lets her heavy eyelids close again, imagining she actually is back in Lexa's room, and can almost feel the brunette next to her, those long fingers playing with her hair.
Lexa hasn't stopped pacing in the main room for the last hour. Trying to focus on formulating a plan while waiting for Clarke to wake has split her focus so nothing productive is happening. She hasn't slept since they arrived either, her body tense and on edge in this stranger's place. There are two long tables lining each side of the room, covered in an array of supplies, trinkets, and furs. Some smoked meats and dried animal hides hang along the far wall, most tied up neatly, ready for customers. She tries to distract herself, picking up some of the small strange metal items, turning them over in her hands.
The mousey child had let them here, to this trading outpost, assuring them the daughter of the owner had some fisa skills, but more importantly, could be trusted to help. Lexa has been trying to gauge her though, still uneasy and on guard, suspicious of some hidden motive.
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The girl is a few years her elder, slender, with a sharp jawline. Her dirty blonde hair was mostly twisted and braided into small strands, a few beads and rings woven in, and when she brushed the hair sideways over one shoulder Lexa noticed the Azgeda ink markings at the base of her neck, peeking out the top of her shirt . She hadn't spoken to them much, outside offering them water and some strips of meat. Lexa assumed it was out of deference to her as commander, but remains on alert, watching every movement out the corner of her eye. The girl's main focus has been tending to Clarke's wounds, which she stitched closed and assuring them what she needed most was simply rest and keeping it from getting infected. Though Lexa just wanted to sit by Clarke's bedside until she woke up, she knew she would fall apart all over again helplessly waiting to see those blue eyes open. No, every minute was precious time that they needed to uncover the fallout of Titus' betrayal.
"No one recognizes me, or will take notice of me moving through Trikru territory." Luna asserts. Having spent so many years away from the clans, knowing only the memory of her young training partner, Luna isn't intimidated by Lexa in the slightest, nor does she speak to her with the same hesitation or reverence, which at present Lexa doesn't mind, as her old friend is the closest she ever had to a sibling, besides Anya.
