Chapter Text
Lexa clears her throat, one hand twisting and turning her pocket knife nervously. Lincoln and Octavia of the sky people both stand in front of her, patient as they wait for their Heda to speak.
“I am curious of some of your romantic customs,” Lexa says. She waits for Octavia’s nod, then continues. “We trikru build a home, to express our desire to build a family. What would a skaikru do, if they were in such a position?”
Octavia squeezes the hilt of her sword, trying to look anywhere but at the knife moving with increasing speed or the commander, looking much too regal for a girl who’s probably asking her the appropriate way to wed her best friend.
“You mean, how do we tell our partner we want to have a child?”
The knife stops moving, and sinks in to the arm of Heda’s throne. “No,” Lexa says blankly. “That is not at all what i asked.”
Octavia winces, and Lincoln takes pity on her. “Heda, i think Octavia is the wrong person to ask about this.”
“I lived underneath the floor for sixteen years,” Octavia pipes up nervously.
“Perhaps i could take you to someone who is a bit wiser on the subject?” Lincoln suggests.
Lexa hums. “Bring them to me,” She decides.
“So, i hear you wanna know how to court a woman.”
Lexa stands still, tries to channel all her anger into the curve of her jaw as she clenches it. She tries to remember Clarke’s threats when she tried to assasinate Octavia, how she backed her into a table. How she is currently trying to do the opposite of angering Clarke.
“Yes.”
“Okay, jot this down.”
Lexa sighs and trumps a path to her desk, settling with a piece of parchment and a quill pen. “Begin.”
“Okay, first you gotta play it sly you know, keep it on the down low.”
Lexa’s fist comes down on the wooden table. “Speak in English,” she growls.
“Okay, okay,” Raven says, a pleased smile curling at her lips now that she’s given Lexa’s back. “I’m saying— she can’t know you like her, you know? you gotta act like you kinda hate her, like she rude or sumn—“
“She is my niron,” Lexa jeers.
“Oi, this different territory dawg—”
“LEAVE MY TENT.”
Raven scurries out, holding her laughter until she is a safe distance away.
“Monty,” Lexa greets, nodding her head and taking careful care to pronounce the name correctly.
“Heda,” the man bows his own head, diverting his attention only for that brief moment before turning back to the greens he is caring for.
“I am sure your so called ‘friends’ have told you of my inquiry.”
“You want to marry Clarke,” Monty says.
“Yes. I know you to be clever and kind. I trust you will offer me true advice.”
Monty drops the leaf he had been examining. “You must get on one knee,” he says. “And you must offer up a plant.”
“A plant?” Lexa shuffles closer eagerly. This is the first helpful bit of advice she’d gotten all week.
“Yes,” Monty nods. “To symbolise growth— of love, family, and of course, crops.”
Lexa’s face falls minutely. “You’re being a fool.”
“No,” Monty insists. “It’s true. It was considered a great symbol on the Ark, representing a person who is capable of providing.”
“Fine,” Lexa accepts the reasoning skeptically. “This plant could be anything?”
“No,” Monty turns back to the plant to mask the terrible glee in his eyes. “It must be cactus.”
“Why a cactus,” Lexa asks, tone loud.
“I’m afraid i do not have the answer to that,” Monty answers. “All i know is you have to grow the cactus yourself.”
“Achievable. Provide me with the seeds, and the equipment.”
Monty disappears into a back room and comes back with a small container. “I’m afraid i can’t help you more than i already have. The custom dictates that you should navigate this journey by your own, and prove your worth.”
Lexa stretches her arm for a handshake, another Skaikru custom she’s had to learn.
Clarke blinks down at the small cactus outstretched towards her, and at Lexa’s hopeful gaze.
“Thank you,” she says, as kindly as she can. “This is a wonderful... cactus.”
She grabs the pot from Lexa’s hands, setting it down onto the table beside her.
Lexa hops up elegantly. “I grew it on my own,” she says, watching Clarke intently.
“That’s... amazing!” Clarke stumbles, feeling bereft.
“So you accept it? You accept my cactus? I could grow you another one, if you’d like.”
Clarke laughs, lost. “Yes Lexa, i accept your cactus.”
Lexa breaks out into a grin, reaching out to hug Clarke close. Clarke smiles into her shoulder bemusedly.
“When do you think she’ll figure it out?” Raven asks, watching with an amused tilt of her lips as Lexa drags a bewildered Clarke around to debate a spot for the cactus.
“Probably not for a long time,” Monty laughs. “At least, not until the ceremony.”
A terrible glee flares up in Raven’s eyes. “Oh, it’s going to be amazing.”