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Clarke wasn’t sure exactly when she had become a necessity.
It sounded desperate, clingy, and, quite frankly, incredibly cliché. But lying next to Lexa, petty conventions paled in comparison to the safety she felt next to her.
Clarke had become familiar with the curvature of Lexa’s spine, the softness of her sides, the pungent sweetness of her breath in the morning. Breathing in the Commander’s early-morning smell, Clarke closed her eyes and snuggled herself closer. The pelts slipped off her shoulder as she did so, and Clarke shivered at the sensation of cold air on her bare skin.
“Chilly?” The low, sleepy tone of Lexa’s voice prompted Clarke to look up and meet the Commander’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Clarke murmured back, tilting her face up to press her lips against Lexa’s. Lexa responded accordingly, cupping Clarke’s face with her calloused yet soft palm, her fingers brushing Clarke’s ear and hairline. Moving her right hand to Lexa’s smooth, smug waist, Clarke hummed with contentment into the kiss. When Lexa finally pulled away, Clarke was given a stark reminder of the frigid temperature around them.
“I’ll ask Indra to arrange for a warmer place in Polis,” Lexa promised, touching her forehead to Clarke’s. Bemusedly, she added, “I thought it got cold in space.”
“The ark was heated…” Clarke began.
“I was joking,” Lexa laughed, looking into Clarke’s eyes. They both shared in the amusement before Lexa pulled a fur from further down the bed to cover Clarke’s exposed back.
“Ai sonraun laik yu sonraun, Clarke,” Lexa murmured just as Clarke began to drift gently into the balmy grip of sleep. Some of the words sounded familiar, although Clarke couldn’t entirely understand the phrase. She met Lexa’s sea-green eyes.
“What does that mean?”
Lexa smiled at Clarke fondly before reaching out to push a strand of hair behind her ear. “It means, ‘my life is your life.’”
“Ugh, can’t you just say, ‘I love you’ like all the other uncaring, heartless Hedas?” Clarke teased.
“There are better ways to say it,” Lexa replied. “I excel in all fields of life, including romantic endeavors. You should have known what I meant, Clarke. Aren't you brushing up on your Trigedasleng?”
“‘Romantic endeavors,’” Clarke crowed, disregarding Lexa's second statement. She pressed her body even closer to Lexa’s. “You’re one of a kind.”
“Heda?” Clarke heard Indra’s voice from outside the door of the tent.
“Komba raun, Indra,” Lexa called back. Clarke burrowed deeper into the pelts when the warrior entered, suddenly feeling more naked than ever. But Indra didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the Commander’s lack of clothes, nor by the blushing Skaikru girl in the Lexa’s bed.
“Our passage to Polis may be delayed. One of the hills on the road has ice,” Indra reported.
“How long will the delay be?” Lexa asked.
“We can leave when the snow stops, Heda.”
“Chof, Indra.” Indra dipped her head before exiting. As the Commander lay back down, Clarke caught a flash of white through the flapping door of the tent. Her breath hitched.
“Snow,” she breathed. Lexa turned to gaze out the entrance of the tent.
“What of it?”
“I’ve just…never seen it before,” Clarke breathed, slipping her legs out of the refuge of the furs. She slipped on her pants from the floor and grabbed her jacket from the table, zipping it up and not bothering to seek out her shirt.
“Aren’t you going to come with me?” Clarke asked, looking back at Lexa as she put on her boots. The Commander rolled her eyes as she slipped out of the bed.
“My personal doctrine doesn’t typically allow for such time-wasting indulgence as playing in the snow,” she said, pausing. She slipped her shirt on before continuing: “But for you, Clarke kom Skaikru, I will tolerate it.”