78 days since Praimfaya...
It had been two weeks since Lexa's first meeting with the Natblida.
She hadn't thought much about it at first, not for long. Especially after her argument with Clarke, that ended with the loss of her composure and a faintly-embarrassing reassurance-session with the same Clarke that was yelling at her mere seconds ago, guiding Lexa through the recital of the twelve names in an effort to calm her down.
But two weeks had given her a long time to think—and it was true. The Natblida at Shallow Valley echoed her proteges all-too-eerily, and it played a factor in why she disagreed with Clarke's fairly sound plan. She feared she would fail this Natblida like she failed her twelve wards to Ontari's hand.
But you are not alone this time. You have Clarke. And Ontari is dead, and there is nothing that can hurt a Natblida on this Earth anymore, save for Mother Earth herself.
Lexa sucked in a breath. During the two weeks, where their haul and food-source significantly dropped due to Clarke's still-healing leg, she had tried not to think of Clarke's words, of how the Natblida would make a perfect hunter to sustain them.
But ever since then, she had woken up to find a fresh dead squirrel, pinned to their door. And then later in the afternoon, a stockpile of fresh fish that would last them for days. The squirrels of which she took with a small, exasperated head-shake before returning into the abode, the fish which she ate while enduring through Clarke's enthusiastic rants.
When Clarke had first heard the news of the Natblida's free dead mutant squirrel package plan, she was excited and could not stop talking about anything other than the Natblida for a whole day. And this was when the only subject Clarke would talk to her about was the Natblida and her still-in-development fishing skills. Now, she couldn't stop pestering Lexa about taking the Natblida in, and how she should ''try to meet up with the Natblida again, since you need a social life with her, too. Who knows? You might even be able to convince her!''
Lexa had mostly taken this with a sigh, but nothing could've prepared her for the Natblida's appearance when Clarke left for spear-fishing.
She'd assumed that the Natblida would've been at the creek with Clarke—after all, they had been bonding over spear-fishing and drawing, as far as Lexa could tell, and there wouldn't be any good reason to not miss it—unless, of course, the Natblida wanted to know more about her, too.
Lexa was sketching in their notepad when the Natblida entered their abode, without a warning or a sound.
''Can I come in?'' the Natblida asked, almost nervously. Lexa beckoned her in with a nod. The Nightblood's Trigedasleng was a mix of accents, something that vaguely resembled the Louwoda Kliron Kru's accent and something else which she couldn't directly place.
That was the least of Lexa's worries, however.
''I suppose you wouldn't be giving your name,'' Lexa said casually, as the Nightblood stared at her from the doorway. One part of her wondered if Clarke had forced the Natblida to come here, and if so, when she would pop up behind the doorframe casually with a cheeky smile and a thumbs-up beckoning her to continue conserving with the Natblida.
The mental image almost made her scoff, partially in amusement and partially in reluctance. Clarke was not here, however—something she realised when the Nightblood walked in and shut the door. Lexa was about to speak again, until the Nightblood asked, quietly, her fingers prickling one another: ''Is the invitation still up on the table?''
"It is." Lexa found herself saying. And she felt genuine about it. Perhaps she was not exactly lukewarm to Clarke's idea when she first suggested it,
Shifting nervously, bouncing on the balls of her feet, the Natblida looked at Lexa, her eyes level to hers, her voice unsure. ''May I... join?'' And at Lexa's glance, the Nightblood babbled on: ''I mean, I'm pretty sure I won't a burden and all, and I'd help out with hunting a-and the dishes and stuff... and you won't regret it, I promise.''
At the Nightblood's uneasy, but conforming glance, Lexa wanted to smile, almost, for it reminded her of a similar someone who had marched up to her and nearly demanded to be under her tutelage.
He didn't disappoint.
But even then there were trials—even for those Lexa knew were capable, for how else could she tell hot air, idle boasts, from genuine truths? So, with a cleared throat, she asked, with significant authority: ''You are clearly capable of taking care of yourself, goufa.'' Images of bear-traps and a disgruntled Clarke popped into her mind, and seeing the Natblida's flush, she likely thought the same. ''And yet you teach Clarke how to fish, imburse us with... resource, and now you come here. You could do well without a cripple and a lame,'' and at the Nightblood's resulting stutter, her face even more so flushed, as she stumbled over her words, Lexa tilted her chin upwards at the Nightblood. ''Indulge me. Why do you want to join us, when you can thrive so well yourself?''
The Nightblood sucked in a sigh, as her gaze darted around the abode, almost as if seeking for some invisible help. But then, when the Nightblood looked back at her, gaze hard and determined, Lexa knew that she had made up her mind. ''Like you said. There's no reason we should do this alone.'' A rushed breath, at Lexa's reaction—or lack thereof. ''And... well, I... kind of miss the company. After Praimfaya happened.'' Her stuttering was apparent, but the Nightblood concealed it with a bravado mask.
Lexa tilted her head in the slightest. ''And...?'' she prompted, but the authority in her voice had left. Replaced with something else. Familiarity. Softness. Concern?
And? Remember, you're not done yet. ''... I don't think I want to be alone anymore.'' the Nightblood said, hoarsely, her voice nearly a whisper, as if reminiscing about a past that once went untouched. Her eyes downcast, staring at her feet, expression a miles away.
''Of course,'' Lexa conceded, and at this, the ends of her lips quirked in the slightest—a small comfort, as much of an assurance she could give. ''Welcome to our home, goufa. Clarke was wondering when you would ask.''
The Nightblood perked at the mention of Clarke, and this, Lexa smiled.
Perhaps they could make this work.
