clexa promts

Away

Summary: Lexa has to go away for some Heda stuff and Clarke rules in her absence as her wife/wanheda and misses Lexa.

Clarke hated the seasons that took Lexa out on week-long hunting trips, especially the spring season. The warm weather always seemed to instill a restlessness in the young warriors across the land, often leading to ruckus and skirmishes she, as Wanheda and regent Heda while Lexa was away, had to sort out. Clarke was not built for politics of peace. She was clever and fearless, aggressive and cool under pressure-she made a great wartime politician. With the wars finally over, her life finally calm and filled with joy at Lexa's side, she was never more comfortable than she was now. Except that is, when Titus brought before her a small group of grumbling, bloodied warriors who had taken it among themselves to decide who had rights to a local beauty.

She rubbed her head in annoyance as she sat upon her throne that had been carved to match Lexa's. The commander had been gone for nearly six days now, and would be returning with the hunting party any minute. She had come so close to watching over Polis without any disturbances, just as she liked it. Since marrying Lexa and joining their peoples, Clarke felt at home among the Grounders, but she didn't think she would ever quite feel comfortable ruling over them the way Lexa did. So she sighed and tried her best to project the air of confidence and dominion that Lexa did so naturally upon the throne.

"Wanheda, your decision?" Titus's voice cut through her thoughts and she was drawn back to the small band of rowdy warriors before her.

Clarke cleared her throat and glared at the warriors more in annoyance than anything else. "Women are not objects to be won or claimed," she began. "You know this and yet you bloodied your fellow kru for a right to one anyways. Explain yourselves."

The oldest man, not more than twenty, looked up at her sheepishly and cleared his throat. "Forgive us, Wanheda, we momentarily acted in a way unfitting of the warriors of Heda's coalition. We apologize. It won't happen again."

Clarke nodded curtly and turned to Titus. "Who is the woman they were fighting over?"

"Azala kom Trikru, Wanheda. She is a healer's daughter living in Polis."

Clarke turned back to the band of warriors who were shifting uncomfortably in the middle of the vast throne room. "You're lucky Heda is not here to handle this," she said with a small quirk of her lips. Although greatly respected by the Grounders, Clarke had garnered a reputation of benevolence in comparison to the harsher, more severe Heda, and the people loved her for it. She rounded out Lexa well and they ruled in perfect harmony together.

The warriors allowed themselves a small smile and a grateful nod as Clarke sent them on their way with the promise that they would apologize to Azala kom Trikru.

"Sha, Wanheda. Mochof," they murmured as Titus shuffled them out of the room.

Clarke sat back on her throne and let out a long breath as the heavy double doors closed with a hushed slam. She closed her eyes and allowed the warm sun streaming in from the balcony behind her to lull her into a deep relaxation. She didn't sleep well when Lexa was away and as she sat there in a moment of peace and quiet, she let her mind still and her body slump.

A chuckle nearby startled her awake what could have been seconds or maybe minutes later. Although, she suspected it had only been seconds as Titus generally did not take a liking to Clarke's occasional naps in the throne room and would have waken her had it been minutes. The throne room is for serious matters, he had once chided her in Trigedasleng when he found her asleep for the first time, curled up in her oversized throne. Clarke could only laugh at the thought of what Titus would say if only he knew what she and Lexa had the habit of getting up to in the throne room when no one was around.