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Clarke leans against the wind, putting her shoulder under it to trudge forward through the thick white snow with heavy legs. The sub-zero wind gusts and flakes blow into her with such force that she slides backward a few steps every once in a while, until Lexa grabs her jacket and tugs her in the right direction again.
She can no longer feel her face, having gone numb shortly after the storm swept up. Her feet, however, prickle painfully. Like the inside of her boots are made of thousands of needles. She’s frozen down to the bone, hypothermic. If they don’t find shelter soon, all of this will have been for nothing.
Lexa came for her in the dead of night. Like a one-woman army, silent and deadly. Clarke saw the two enormous guards at her cell door drop to the floor like bags of sand, and then a small figure stepped out of the shadows and into the torchlight, eyes ablaze once they found hers. It’s the last face Clarke expected to see. The girl who left her and her people for dead at Mount Weather came here, to the heart of Azgeda territory, to rescue her.
Knowing she didn’t have a choice, Clarke stepped out of her cell once Lexa pulled the key from under one of the dead bodies on the floor. Together, they peeled the thick coats off of the guards and snuck out into the icy darkness.
They wouldn’t get far leaving tracks in the snow for Nia’s guards to follow. Which is why Lexa had initially been relieved when the thick flakes started tumbling down. But once the wind began to howl upon first light, the weather started working against them.
She’s nearly frozen solid when Lexa falls to her knees near a rocky formation almost entirely covered in a thick white blanket and starts digging. Clarke is about to ask why they stopped when a small opening appears. Lexa keeps going until it’s big enough to crawl through. She grabs Clarke’s arm and starts pushing her inside. She tells her it’s safe, that she spent the night here two days ago.
Clarke drops to her hands and knees and starts crawling. The tunnel bends to the left and then opens up. As far as she can see in the near dark of the cave, it’s a small oval space, but she can stand at full height. The cave doesn’t look like it’s used frequently, but there’s a stack of wood in the back near a pile of ashes and a neatly rolled up bedroll that must be Lexa’s. The sound of the howling wind gradually dies down. It’s almost silent once Lexa joins her in the cave.
“I barricaded the entrance again so no Azgedan can see we’re in here,” Lexa says with shaky gasps. “And it will keep the wind out so we can warm up.”
Warm.
Clarke doesn’t believe she’ll ever be warm again. Doomed to spend the rest of her—possibly very short, if Nia’s guards find them—life frozen to the core.
But unlike Clarke, who stands in the middle of the cave uselessly while her body vibrates in a fruitless attempt to warm her body, Lexa walks over to the logs to get a fire going. She drops the stick she retrieved from her bag a few times, her hands probably even stiffer than Clarke’s after digging in the snow. Eventually, the wood starts to smoke and a few dry leaves catch fire.
They huddle close to the weak flames of the starting fire, desperately trying to thaw their hands and faces. As the flames rise, they stay there, silent, waiting for their bodies to soak up more of the heat. At least enough for their limbs to start functioning again. Lexa moves first, rolling out her bedroll next to the fire and rummaging through her bag. She hands Clarke a folded cloth most likely containing food. On cue, her stomach growls loudly.
Not trusting her unsteady hands to keep the food from falling into the fire, she sets it down and unfolds the cloth on the cavern floor. Inside is an assortment of calorie-dense nuts, dried fruits, mushrooms and greens that will last them five days to a week at most. She eagerly digs in, but something feels off. The Commander she knows would come better prepared.
“What was your plan, coming here?”
It’s the first words she’s spoken to Lexa. The first words she’s spoken in a long time. Her last words were for Roan, right before he handed her over to an Azgeda general when the Ice Nation army surrounded them and Roan played as if he had meant to take her to the Ice Queen all along. It was easy enough to spot that this was not his plan. And even though she didn’t know where he was initially taking her, it had to have been somewhere better than here. Anything would've been better than Azgeda. His nod was the slightest dip of his chin with his jaw set when she told him to send word to whoever it was he had been escorting her to.
Lexa.
While she put the pieces together in her head, Lexa had carefully avoided eye contact. Rearranging items in the bag and cleaning off her blade with a rag. When she finally looks up at Clarke she seems collected, but her eyes flit back down too quickly, giving her away.
“There wasn’t much time to prepare,” she starts. “The prince’s message was urgent…”
Clarke’s stomach flutters at Lexa’s unspoken words, confirming that her time alone in the wilderness didn’t cease or reduce the way Lexa affects her. She doesn’t react or ask any more questions, knowing all she needs to for now, and only acknowledges Lexa when she moves the food in front of her to her side so they can share.
Nia hadn’t fed her much. She’s not sure if it was a tactic to get her to talk or because she wasn’t going to be alive much longer. Probably both. She eats a little bit of everything, consciously chewing every bite so she doesn't indulge and take more than she needs.
Her mind goes back to processing the events of the past few weeks while she chews her food to a pulp. She doesn’t know how much time has passed while she was locked in the windowless Azgeda dungeon. It feels like years of her life, though it probably wasn’t more than two weeks.
Roan must’ve taken a while to send word of her capture to Polis. From what she could understand with her still rudimentary trigedasleng knowledge and limited exposure to the Ice Nation dialect, Roan had been banished from Azgeda territory. His capture of Wanheda for his mother, the queen, lifted said banishment, but a banished prince probably doesn’t have many allies.
The people who helped Roan deliver his message must’ve helped Lexa get in and out the way she did. Told her about this cave where she could hide out and plan her rescue mission. Clarke wonders how much of it was planned. If it took some time for Roan’s message to be delivered to Lexa, it means she immediately set out to come for her. The warm flutter ripples through her belly again and her chest swells when she thinks about the Commander of the twelve clans dropping all her responsibilities to charge into hostile territory. The territory of a clan that seeks to overthrow her—as Nia told Clarke in an attempt to get them to join forces against the woman who betrayed her and her people—to rescue a girl she likes. A girl she betrayed just four months ago, she thinks, the thought still bitter on her tongue.
Her ever conflicting feelings about Lexa seem to have reached their pinnacle. Being rescued by the person who betrayed her throws her for a loop. Until understanding dawns on her.
Lexa came to save her because she couldn’t lose Clarke to the Ice Queen the same way she lost Costia.
It puts things in perspective for Clarke. Heda left her at the foot of the mountain because it’s what she had to do in order to do what’s best for her people. Lexa rescued her from imminent death for herself.
Clarke’s capture would have been the perfect trap to get to Lexa, had the Ice Queen known of Lexa’s feelings for her. She breathes a sigh of relief at that. Nia most likely thought any rescue attempt would come from Skaikru; they never saw Lexa coming.
She thinks about her time in Nia’s dungeon. When an alliance was off the table, Nia tried to use her to get information on Lexa, the coalition, and Skaikru. Met only by Clarke’s insistent silence, Nia grew bored of her quickly.
She swallows when she remembers Nia’s last words to her, spoken with an air of disinterest; “It doesn’t matter to me if you cooperate or not. I can still use you in death, Wanheda.”
If Lexa hadn’t come for her when she did…
A violent shudder runs through her at the thought, alerting Lexa.
“You should take off your wet clothes, let them dry by the fire and take the bedroll. It’s dry and it should be warm by now.”
She’s too cold and tired to be stubborn and refuse Lexa’s offer. It takes her a while but eventually her boots come off. Her jacket, pants, and socks quickly follow. She lays everything out on the ground to dry and then slides into the bedroll facing the fire.
It doesn’t get much warmer in the bedroll. She’s so close to the small flames that scooting up another inch would have the cloth catch fire. She feels the heat, but her body doesn’t soak it up. It doesn’t penetrate her skin to thaw her insides. Sleep evades her when she tries, which is not surprising: even on the Ark, she’d been unable to sleep with cold feet. With icicles for legs, it’s an impossible feat.
She opens her eyes again when she hears Lexa’s teeth begin to clatter. Knowing there’s only one way to get through this storm, she sighs. She needs Lexa to get back to Trikru territory, needs Lexa alive in Polis as the head of the coalition. To survive. For her people. That’s all there is to it. She shuts down any thoughts of gratitude and affection she has for her rescuer. Suppresses her desire for them to be just Clarke and Lexa, not Heda and Wanheda. To take this moment and put aside their political history as leaders of their respective people.
“I’m not getting any warmer and neither are you. I don’t want to die in this cave, so take off your clothes and get in behind me.”
Lexa regards her, waits a moment before responding, like she’s expecting Clarke to change her mind and withdraw her offer. Clarke stares at her expectantly. She almost thinks Lexa is about to refuse when Lexa’s rigid hands move to shed her clothes as Clarke told her to. She hesitantly gets into the bedroll behind Clarke, with Lexa on one end and Clarke on the other, keeping as much space between them as possible. They awkwardly shift to get comfortable, both still shivering from the cold.
Laying in front of the fire with Lexa behind her makes her cheeks heat up. It’s such a relief to feel at least a flicker of something other than piercing cold. But as time goes by it doesn’t get much warmer. Clarke senses Lexa’s inner turmoil even though she can’t see her. Clarke patiently waits for Lexa to work up the nerve to speak.
“Clarke,” Lexa starts tentatively. “The bedroll will only keep us warm if we wrap it tight. We won’t get warm like this. It would be better if we share—”
Clarke rolls her eyes and moves back with a sigh, bringing her body close to Lexa’s, forcefully ignoring Lexa’s shaky inhale once her back is flush with Lexa’s front. She brings her hands up and closes off the top of the bedroll the best she can to trap their body heat, should they ever get warm.
Thankfully, as soon as the opening seals around their necks the temperature rises significantly. Clarke feels herself fading; eyes sucked deeper into their sockets and heavy lids shutting. Finally feeling the exhaustion of her capture and subsequent escape settle in her limbs, she drifts off quickly.
***
Her mind is sluggish and foggy when her dreams rouse her from slumber. The first thing she notices is how warm she is. A pleasant heat surrounds her. It feels like a lifetime ago since she had the luxury of sleeping in such a soft, warm bed. She can't remember if she’s ever been as comfortable as she is right now.
The Azgeda winter still chills her bones, making her scoot closer to the toasty furnace to her side. Her pillow, however, stiffens when she moves, followed by a soft whimper next to her ear. Clarke pauses, confused. The fog lingering in her head lifts slightly. A little more aware, she takes stock of her surroundings.
The first thing she notices is the sweet scent with a salty edge to it under her nose. She inhales deeply, Trying to soak it up but unable to get her fill. Warm, damp flesh flutters softly against her lips. Her left arm is numb underneath her own body, her right rises and falls in time with the cushy surface it’s resting on.
She flexes her fingers, squeezing down lightly, enjoying the way the surface molds to her hand. Her body shifts involuntarily, rubbing against the substantial heat underneath her. It’s a pleasant feeling. She feels good, lighter than she’s felt in years. She moves again, chasing the sensation, repeats it. Licks her dry lips and swallows thickly. Grinding down harder, she can’t bite back the groan that leaves her mouth.
All of a sudden, her pillow jolts and gasps. Lexa jolts awake with a gasp.
They both freeze, holding their breath. Clarke feels the back of her neck prickle with shame and embarrassment, instantly hyper-aware of their situation now that the sleepy haze has lifted from her brain.
Her body is laying half on top of Lexa’s, with her hand high up Lexa’s top and her face buried into the crook of Lexa’s neck. Lexa’s hand flexes on her thigh. Finally taking stock of the rest of her body, heat pools low in her belly when she realizes she has her right leg wedged snug between Lexa’s thighs, feeling heat radiating from her. Lexa’s leg is between Clarke’s own, pressed firmly against the apex of her thighs where she feels a deep, burning ache.
Suddenly out of breath, she breathes roughly against the hot skin of Lexa’s neck, feeling Lexa’s pulse speed up under her lips. Clarke knows she has to turn around, get back to their original positions and go back to sleep, go back to resenting Lexa. Because resenting Lexa was simple, she did it for months. Turning around now and putting a stop to whatever might happen next feels impossible though.
She’s too far gone, too high on the feeling of having Lexa against her, underneath her. She doesn’t want to think, doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to hate Lexa any longer for doing what she had to do for her people. What she wants is to exist only in this moment, and give in to the magnetic pull between them. She can almost taste Lexa’s skin where her open mouth hovers over it.
All she wants is to grind into the heat of Lexa’s center, hotter than the fire behind her back. As if she’s reading Clarke’s mind, Lexa’s hand grasps her hip, holding her in place. She moves her head back to look at Clarke, the reflection of the flames licking at Clarke’s back dancing in her eyes.
“Clarke...” She whispers.
Clarke moves her hand from where it was still resting on Lexa’s breast up to her neck. Their gazes flit back and forth between eyes and mouths until Clarke succumbs and lightly tugs Lexa towards her. It’s a silent question Lexa answers with a gasp and a nod.
They meet in the middle when Clarke pulls Lexa in, and Lexa leans forward. The moment their lips meet Clarke feels her body come alive. Their mouths clash in a way that’s both tender and desperate. Clarke deepens the kiss, flicking her tongue against Lexa’s lips, unable to take it slow. Moaning when Lexa opens for her and meets her with equal hunger, wet lips and tongues sliding against each other. She feels like she’d been drowning for months, finally coming up for air, finally realizing how close she had come to dying.
Her skin tingles everywhere their bodies make contact, but it’s not enough. She wants more. More of Lexa’s bare skin on hers, Lexa’s hands touching her, grounding her so she doesn’t feel like she could evaporate into thin air at any moment. She pulls away and rips off her shirt before tugging on the hem of Lexa’s top to help her strip. They hurry out of their underwear, taking a few seconds to drink in the naked skin the other has on display and crashing into each other again. The feeling of skin on skin sends Clarke reeling. Their legs slot back into place, tangled, bodies molding together like a dream, grinding feverishly.
Clarke scratches her nails down Lexa’s back, trying to cling to her sanity. She kisses and licks Lexa’s neck and chest, tasting her salty skin before she travels back up to claim Lexa's mouth. The slick skin painting both their thighs makes for a smooth glide, coaxing the most exquisite sounds out of her savior. Lexa’s moans mix with her own, just like the heady, intoxicating scent of their combined arousal.
Lexa looks at her, mixed emotions dancing behind her eyes. Suddenly, she remembers where she saw a similar look on Lexa's face; the moment Lexa betrayed Clarke, turned her back and left Clarke alone at the mountain. Surprisingly, it doesn’t sting the way it used to. Her eyes no longer prickle at the memory. Perhaps because Lexa moves against her so wickedly. All it does is make her more desperate, no longer content with feeling Lexa on her and against her, makes her need more.
Clarke pulls Lexa with her when she rolls onto her back, guides Lexa’s right hand to the apex of her thighs, circles her legs around Lexa’s hips and lets out a low moan when she feels two of Lexa's fingers slip inside her. She arches her back, stars dancing behind her closed eyelids, pushing complex emotions about complex situations to the back of her mind.
The reality of Lexa’s long fingers inside her surpass all the fantasies she'll never admit to having. Lexa nips at her neck and keeps fucking her while she works her way down to Clarke’s chest and closes her lips around a hard nipple. A string of curses leaves Clarke's lips as Lexa's tongue torments her nipples, each kiss, nip, and flick sending shocks of pleasure straight to her clit. She fists Lexa's hair with her hands, encouraging her, keeping her close.
Her eyes lose focus, rolling into the back of her skull, and her throat feels dry from her fast and shallow breaths. She clenches down hard on Lexa's fingers after every thrust, feeling fresh wetness trickle out and into Lexa's hand as her inner walls ripple wildly. Her legs are shaking, her muscles quivering against Lexa's thighs a prelude to her peak.
She's so far gone at this point—lost in the strong current of her own need—that she wonders if any of this is real. She's so close that she can already taste the beginning of her orgasm on the tip of her tongue when Lexa suddenly slows down.
Clarke opens her eyes, wanting to tell Lexa not to stop. But when her eyes find Lexa’s, her darkened gaze has been replaced by naked hurt. Clarke has never seen her like this before. So vulnerable, so young, so beautiful. A single tear rolls down Lexa's cheek, and Clarke instinctively cups her face and kisses the tear away. She moves back to look at Lexa, heart clenching in concern. Lexa’s voice is weak when she finally speaks.
“I was so worried. When I heard Nia captured you…”
Lexa leans down, kisses Clarke’s chest above her heart. Another tear falls, painting Clarke’s skin. “I thought I’d lost you.” Lexa murmurs against Clarke’s neck, fingers still knuckle deep inside of her. “I thought I’d lost you even though I know you’re not mine to lose. I thought she’d do to you what she did to—”
Clarke shushes Lexa while her heart breaks inside her chest. She sifts her fingers through Lexa’s hair, kisses the side of her face, and whispers against her ear.
“I’m safe now. I’m here. I’m with you.”
It’s utterly bewildering how she went from resenting Lexa yesterday to comforting her and her and sleeping with her today, but she goes with it. It all feels like inevitability finally becoming a reality, instead of a conscious decision. She knows that even though a lot has happened between them, she’s never felt like this before. Complete, whole, safe and loved. She can’t let anything stand in her way from this in a world where she might very well be dead tomorrow.
Clarke searches for Lexa’s lips, kisses her tenderly, pouring all her feelings into it. Hoping Lexa will understand what she can't articulate yet. She rocks her hips to meet Lexa’s fingers when they start moving inside her again. Lexa’s body is taut in her arms. Clarke snakes her left hand between their bodies to run her fingers along Lexa’s silky center, swirls them around Lexa’s clit, reveling in her reward in the form of a broken moan.
She keeps Lexa’s face close, her free hand tangled in Lexa’s thick mane, swallowing every gasp and groan. They speed up until they’re panting into each other’s mouths, Lexa’s fingers hooking up, massaging her front wall each time she slams them into her. Lexa's eyes are squeezed shut in an effort to hold herself together. Clarke can feel she's on the verge of shattering under her touch.
“I’m with you,” Clarke husks, repeating her earlier words. “Let go.”
She desperately claws at Lexa's back with her free hand, swallowing the hiss that leaves Lexa's lips. Lexa adds another finger and redoubles her efforts, while Clarke locks her legs around Lexa's hips, taking everything Lexa offers. They shudder against each other, kissing like it’s the last thing they’ll ever do until their climax hits. Clarke shouts up into the roof of the cave until she’s breathless and spent while Lexa’s mouth opens in a silent scream, hips moving against Clarke’s fingers in small jerks until the last aftershocks have faded.
Clarke catches her when she comes down, panting heavily. They share soft, languid kisses once they've caught their breath. Arms wrapped around each other, neither willing to separate. It surprises Clarke how easy it is to let go of her anger and relax into Lexa’s embrace. It'll take some time, but she has hope that they can close the rift between them. It's the last thought she has before falling into a dreamless sleep.
