heda | clexa

nineteen

Clarke gets up slowly, shackled hands raised, anything not to inspire sudden movement. “Octavia,” she says quietly. “Put the knife down.”

“Clarke? What did she-”

“Now.”

The blade disappears and Lexa is pushed hard into the corner. Octavia appears behind Lexa like a murderous shadow, clad in her deep black armor, warpaint spread across her sharp face. As soon as she sees Clarke, she moves forward.

“Clarke. Thank the Saints. What did she do to you?”

“Nothing. This is not her fault. Can you break me out of these?”

Octavia scoffs. “Are you insulting me?”

“Fine, hurry up then.”

Octavia easily breaks the chains and they fall to the ground with a loud clatter. In Arksh, she says, “What did she do to you?"

"Long story," Clarke replies. "It's not her fault."

"Do you know when we're leaving yet? This place is absolute shit. Look at what they're doing to you."

“Not yet," Clarke admits.

“What? But-”

“Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

“Then trust me when I say not yet. The guards don’t check in with the teachers regularly; that’s our advantage. In three days, however, there’s some kind of field trip planned. We’ll be out of the cabins, and our absence would be noticed. On the bright side, I acquired some interesting information when I was out of town. Trust me, Octavia. By the end of the week, we are out of here. As I promised. I’ll take care of my teacher.”

“Will you kill her now?” Octavia asks. 

“No. I cannot hide the stench of a corpse in a place like this for three days. Not yet. Go and tell the others.”

“Okay.”

“And Octavia?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you so much. I do prefer being able to move my hands.”

“Of course,” Octavia says. “You’ll have to take a bath at some point anyway, right? I couldn’t have left you to be bathed by your petty teacher,” she adds with a wink and Clarke purses her lips.

“Right. That would’ve been incredibly unfortunate.”

“Can you imagine? A bitch who worships a greedy, hateful God seeing your body naked? Touching it? I would have had to cut her hands off.”

Clarke’s jaw clenches. She doesn’t like the way Octavia talks, but she also knows Octavia means no harm. “It's curfew soon, you should get back."

“Right. We’ll see each other in three days?”

“Yes. Latest.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“To you too.”

Octavia slips through the window and disappears into the night without a noise.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke apologizes once they’re alone again, speaking English, and reaches out for Lexa, whose face is carved out of stone as usual, but her eyes are bigger, afraid, her chest heaving faster. “She meant no harm. She believed you did this.”

“I did.”

“Well, not really.”

Lexa nods and straightens up, adjusting her robes and brushing through her hair. Her chin ticks up and she clasps her hands behind her back. “Well, I should go to bed. It’s the first Prayer Day tomorrow.”