archenemy | clexa

nineteen

"Making friends with the enemy already, Heda?" Anya asks innocently on the next day, when the alliance continues their travels north delayed.

Lexa half expects Anya to be speaking to someone else. She looks at her mentor as though the woman had utterly insulted her.

"What do you mean?"

"Clarke kom Skaikru."

Loathing passes Lexa's face. "What? I deeply despise her."

"Oh? That's interesting, considering your activities of this morning."

Now, the glares are directed sharply at Anya, who raises her hands in surrender. "It's not like I eavesdropped. You weren't exactly subtle, though."

"Anything that happened was merely out of spite."

"Look, Heda, your private affairs are none of my business. I don't care whether or not you hate her, but you should be careful of her. She's not to be messed with. I know Costia affected you and the overall situation is not ideal, but if you're looking for a diversion, do not let it be Skaiprisa. She's breathtaking, but you need that breath to think right now, and not about her."

"I'm not thinking of her at all. My mind will not be clouded, I trust you know that. It's not like I don't see you take off with people to your tent frequently."

Anya merely gives Lexa a nod. "Good," she says and then she lets herself fall back in the long line of warriors, not mentioning it again.

-

Anya isn't the only one who doesn't care to mention the previous day again. Clarke and Lexa don't either. Both are by themselves during the ride to Azgeda, Clarke comes home late again, Lexa scowls at her, they sleep at the outer sides of the bed each.

The next day, tension in the camp grows, because they will only travel one more day before they've reached the battlefield. Snappy remarks slip her and there, but they don't spark an argument, mainly because neither of the two has the nerve or time for it.

At the day before the first battle, Clarke wakes up more nervous than Lexa. To keep her image of a divine, leading princess upright, she will have to fight. Clarke will have to fight in battle, she will be in war, and even though she may know how to handle weapons, she is no soldier, no warrior.

She's never been trained for it. The few that have come too close to her in the dropship, perhaps, but not an army. Not a legion. Not at the front, without armor, only with guns.

She tries going for a walk around camp, but it doesn't help anything. Instead, she sees the bulked up Grounders ready to smash everything in their way and the trained, armed soldiers of the Arkers who seem calm and steady. Bellamy catches her eye and motions her over to give her a slightly misfitting, old armor for the Ark's Guard.

Lexa would probably tease her about the size if she was more focused on that, because Clarke hasn't told her that people didn't get their clothes tailored in the Ark, most were hand-me-down.

"An armor has been prepared for you in the dressing area," Lexa says absentminded instead when Clarke enters the tent, looking intently at a plan of the battlefield. Planning the war was mostly easy since the rules were given; the coalition will fight against Azgeda from sunrise to sundown on a restricted battlefield, each has their side. Bodies may be removed after dark. Sundays are for rests. Still, the Heda seems to always have things left to plan.

"What?"

Lexa looks up and notices the armor in Clarke's arms. "If you'd rather wear your own, fine. There's one for you in the dressing area nonetheless."

So Clarke goes to check that armor out and her decision is immediate. The old wear of the Guard against the Grounder-esque, rugged armor that looks much more trustable and is definitely more to Clarke's liking- yeah, she is thankful for Bellamy's thoughtfulness, but she'll take the Grounder's armor.

-

A battle in war is less scary and exciting than Clarke thought it to be, at least if it's on a battlefield like this.

The enormous army of the coalition and the respectable legion of Azgeda are crowded on a wide, open space surrounded by forest. Soldiers fill up the space to the horizon, to the very treelines, everything gleams with armor, blades and guns.

Lexa and Clarke ride up in the first row together to begin the battle. Nia is there, too, standing as proud and fearless as Lexa across her. Roan is besides his mother, glaring at his opponents with slits for eyes and a cocky smirk on thin lips and Clarke notices the way Roan's and Lexa's shoulders are equally squared like a twin image, both ready to kill the other as soon as the sun will rise.

Clarke shines of confidence and bravery too but in secret, she's glad that she'll leave to her position at the side of the army and doesn't have to brutally murder with swords.

The Arkers are at small distance to the rows and rows of Azgedan warriors, at the side of the field, so that they can shoot properly at any range. It was Clarke's idea and Raven's doing to set off bombs at the start of the battle to create momentum for the Heda's army to charge, and then would come the guns.

Indeed, the first battle goes well for the coalition. Only few soldiers fall on the coalition's side, some are injured, but when such large groups meet, there is often little to nothing to do for those who are at the back of the formation, so that's not all too surprising.

The next morning, Clarke wakes up a little anxious still, but not as scared. The Heda is already gone, so Clarke makes the bed and puts on her armor. When Lexa comes back, she's tense like usual (Clarke has come to the conclusion that Lexa's chronically angry, mostly at Clarke) and unsurprisingly, she glowers as soon as she has had a look around (she always finds something to complain about).

"What on Earth did you do to that bed?"

"I made it."

"Oh God. It's true. You're godly unintelligent. You don't even know how to make a bed."

"Of course I do. Where I'm from, we don't have so much extra stuff. Furs and blankets and whatever. We have one pillow and one blanket, so I'm not sorry if you're not fucking content."

"Oh well it's not surprising that even you can manage one pillow and one blanket. Forget it, we need to move out. It's dawning."

"Fine. I hope you get stabbed in the heart so you finally feel something in there."

"I hope you get stabbed in the mouth so you finally shut up."

Clarke grunts, but doesn't say anything else. There are other priorities now.

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