hidden | clexa

eight

Lexa looks up at Clarke amused. "Rebellion?"

"Let me take you on one date, Heda. Only one. Nobody ever has to know, we don't even need to touch each other- let us have another dinner or another game night or whatever you wish, but let us call it a date. Even if it's just the label that changes- let me be your lover for one night."

And there it is again, that unusually fast hearbeat. Lexa has to control her facial expressions very carefully so she doesn't let any of it show. Clarke saying the words 'let me be your lover for one night' is doing things to Lexa it shouldn't. It makes her want to say yes. It makes her want to feel what other people must feel. It makes her want to push the words 'love is weakness' into some box and lock them away, because it's not real anyway, and it makes her want to go on a date with Clarke kom Trikru.

Just one.

It's daring, Lexa knows that. Their meetings are daring as of now, but to call them a date, to merely change the name even if it's fake-

Clarke is right. It's an act of rebellion.

And the worst? This woman is making Lexa feel a little bold.

"Yes," she says after a short moment of silence.

"Yes?"

"Take me on a date."

Clarke's face lights up. "I'm so honored, Heda."

And Lexa, enjoying this more than she should be, takes it one step further. "Clarke?" she asks.

"Yes, Heda?"

"Do you think a little more rebellion would hurt?"

"No, Heda," Clarke answers slowly, carefully.

"Then call me Lexa."

The name rolls off her tongue easy, makes it sound effortless, although actually, it's monumental. She hasn't spoken her name in ten years, not since she became Heda. Her name hasn't been used since then. It's only ever her title, to a point where Lexa doubts anyone even knows the name 'Lexa' anymore.

She's not a person to the system. She's not a person to the flame, or Titus.

She's a faceless successor, one to keep alive the people and the flame's legacy.

But with Clarke, there's a difference. With Clarke, it's almost like the title is a mere burden, an obstacle. Of course. To Clarke, Lexa is a person.

"Lexa," the young merchant woman tries out Lexa's name, and Lexa figures there is no person she would rather hear her own name from after a decade than Clarke. "It's beautiful. Thank you."

-

They have another glass of wine and wait until sunset before departing. It grows dark quickly around this time in the year so the Heda- Lexa, Clarke reminds herself (God. Lexa. Clarke wants to say it over and over again.)- has a quick look around and says, "It's too dangerous to travel by foot to Polis this hour. It's not far, but I wouldn't want to risk it."

"What, you want us to stay here?" Clarke asks incredulously. "Politely, Heda- Lexa, I mean, do you really think that's safer?"

"No, of course I don't want us to stay out in the open. I want us to take the horse."

"Oh. Right. I can't-" Clarke clears her throat awkwardly and scratches the back of her neck. "I can't actually ride a horse."

"That's okay," the Heda- no, Lexa, fuck this is so unfamiliar- replies kindly. "I'll take the reigns and you can either ride in front of me or behind me."