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It always starts the same way.
She seemingly falls from the sky, and Lexa can't help but fall for her eyes.
The world remains in darkness, Lexa's eyes as observant as ever, and the sky never as blue as Clarke's.
***
"That's all child's play, Lincoln." Lexa's eyes flick up to meet his gentle gaze over the fire between the two of them. "It is impossible to be reborn in any way." She sighs and picks up her dagger, her mind needing some distraction.
He chuckles in a way that grates at hers nerves a bit. "Perhaps your past life doesn’t determine your next. There are spiritual people who believe that sort of thing, but what if that is not the case? What if you can just simply start anew?"
She rolls her eyes despite the fact that she knows he only wishes to cheer himself up. In this world, no one knows they are reincarnated unless they meet their soulmate. Neither of them have met theirs, but Lincoln remains hopeful. Lexa remains practical. "We are thieves, Lincoln. This is us starting anew."
His shoulders drop slightly. "You did not choose this life, Lexa."
She fastens her blade back into its sheathe on the side of your leg, exhaling sharply as she does so. "But I have to live it. As do you."
A twig snaps in the near distance, gaining both of their attention. She nods at Lincoln, who is already moving steadily toward the source. She flanks him, scanning the dark field for any movement. No one should be out here, especially not at this time of the night. They had scouted the field before setting up camp. It was the only way they could go unnoticed.
They make it to the edge of the woods before Lincoln pauses for a moment to listen for any movement. The moment he does, the tree above him shakes and Lexa watches, mouth agape, as a body jumps onto Lincoln's back.
"Lincoln!" Lexa calls out, rushing forward and pulling out her weapon.
All movement stops when Lexa's eyes meet with blue eyes in the glimmer of twilight. The stranger blinks and merely takes off into the woods, leaving Lincoln on the ground.
She stalks over to him, kneeling beside him except her eyes trained on the figure enveloping in darkness up ahead. "Are you hurt?"
"No." Lincoln sits up and turns his head in the same direction Lexa can't seem to look away. "She's rather strong. I wonder what she was after. She could've easily done away with me. You were far enough away."
Lexa quirks an eyebrow at the jab at her showcasing an albeit slow reactionary. But, the pronoun steals her attention enough for her to look to her friend. "She?"
He nods, catching Lexa's piqued interest. He then chuckles. "Caught us both off guard then."
Lexa rolls her eyes and proceeds to help him up. "We should get back to camp."
Lincoln agrees and begins to follow Lexa back to their campfire. "Lexa?"
"Yes, Lincoln?" Lexa doesn't turn her head and continues the short distance to where they settled.
"I think we've been robbed."
She immediately stops and turns to meet his panicked gaze as he checked his pockets. He only has three pouches of coins on him. "We had enough shillings to last us through the winter and surplus for the village."
"We're lucky she left us any."
"She's lucky she still has her hands!" Lexa snarls, baring her teeth.
Lincoln sighs and places a hand on her shoulder. "She's long gone by now. We can rob the next town that crosses our paths." He settles in his spot again. This time he's more alert, and regrettably enough even more amused. "It's quite exciting, don't you think, Lexa?"
Something resembling intrigue, perhaps longing, pulls at her to pursue their attacker. She thinks better of it. She instead stares up at the sky, wondering exactly how the sky could ever match those eyes.
It takes Lexa no more than a few hours of trekking through the woods the next morning to be absolutely certain that they're not alone. "Lincoln." She says as even as her voice can manage. He turns his head slightly, enough for Lexa to know he heard her. "We're being followed. You take the route east and we'll meet at the river due north by nightfall."
He goes without a word, and Lexa takes off in the opposite direction.
As she continues to walk through the woods, Lexa can almost make out a figure in the shadows of the trees in her peripheral. She walks at a fast pace for a few more miles before she decides to stop. A stream runs between a few trees telling her she must be close to the river to meet with Lincoln. The shadow still lingers amongst the trees.
She sets her pack down and rests her head against it, content with resting for a little while. Her eyes are closed and her breaths even out to lull her to sleep. But she can still feel the shadow. She can almost hear the hesitation in the fast-approaching footsteps.
Without opening her eyes, her hands catch a wrist.
"So, you have been following us."
There's a struggle to be free of Lexa's grip, but Lexa's a lot stronger than she appears.
Lexa finally opens her eyes only to be face to face with the same blue eyes that haunted her dreams from the night before. Something inside her clicks. "Clarke."
Surprise settles on the girl's features. It takes a few heartbeats. And then, finally, a breath. "Lexa."
They find Lincoln a few hours later setting up camp near the river. He turns around, tilting his head and resting his hand on his hip. "Leave it to you to come up with a plan to get rid of our stalker to then assimilate her." There's a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "How do you fancy having to start anew?"
Clarke lets out a light laugh. "I'll manage."
He chuckles in return. "You'll fit right in, stranger."
When Lincoln turns in for sleep, ready to relinquish the watch duty, Clarke joins Lexa on a log. They sit in silence for a few moments, content listening to the flowing river.
Lexa turns to Clarke. "How long has it been?"
The blonde shrugs. She stares at the ground intently. "Fall of Rome?"
Lexa nods before turning her eyes toward the river. "It has been a while then."
"Do you remember your lives before now?" A crease forms on Clarke's forehead when her eyebrows furrow together.
"I don't recall a time since Rome. I remember the city in chaos and flames." Lexa sighs. "I remember trying to get us out."
"But I wanted to help those who were injured. I was so angry with you."
"But then we got separated. I looked for you. For years." Lexa's voice cracked, her voice growing unsteady the more she speaks- the more she remembers. "I found out they had captured you and sent you to Constantinople, but by the time I arrived, no one even heard of you--"
"I had fallen ill."
"You had passed long before I could say goodbye."
Clarke's lips twist into a half smile, forlorn and desperate. She holds out her hand to Lexa. "Is it ever goodbye with us?"
Her heart races to say something. 'Never.' Lexa wants to say--wants to shout to the world. 'I'm yours.' With a shake of her head, quiet and sure, all Lexa can do is take her hand.
It was something like the promise she wanted to say out loud. A promise to remember. A promise to last more than just this lifetime.
***
Sometimes they meet sooner rather than later in life.
She still falls from the sky, and Lexa somehow remembers to catch her without hesitation.
The world is as hectic as ever, Lexa's heart as soft as it is hard, and Clarke's eyes as blue as they are pleading.
***
"The Governor's daughter shouldn't be parading around in the dirty streets, Marcus." Lexa can't help but overhear a conversation as she turns the street corner, trying to chase after the ball that Anya had purposely kicked far and hard. Anya isn't fond of losing. Unfortunately, Lexa is also fairly aware of the fact.
"Sunlight would also be good for the Governor's daughter." The voices appear to be getting closer and closer. Lexa, knowing well and enough for ten years, knows she should be running away at the sound of officials walking around Nassau. But Anya also doesn't like losing her things.
"I suppose if you have her back without a scratch." The voices turn down another alley, much to Lexa's relief.
She finally catches sight of the ball, nested against some wooden boxes stacked against the wall.
"Bollocks!" A tiny voice belonging to someone not any older than herself grabs at Lexa's attention. "Oh, I beg your pardon."
She looks up and finds a girl, all blue eyes, perched up on of the taller stacks of boxes. Lexa merely quirks an eyebrow, some unknown feeling tugging at her chest. The girl then tries to step down, her foot slipping and a scream leaving her. Lexa moves fast enough to catch her before she hits the ground.
"You must be more careful." Lexa whispers, inwardly wondering where someone can have eyes that challenge the Caribbean seas. No more than a heartbeat later, Lexa smiles. "Clarke."
The girl's eyebrows furrow together in confusion. She stares at Lexa's green eyes. It takes all of Lexa's held breath for blue eyes to brighten.
Clarke beams at her. "Lexa!" She hugs the other girl, relief washing over them both.
"Miss Griffin! There you are!" Lexa releases Clarke as a man in Royal Navy attire steadily approaches them. "We must get you home. You know how your mother feels about interacting with the locals."
"I'll be but a moment. I promise."
"Very well." The man stops and turns back out of the alley.
"I apologize for him. He's my chaperone for the day." Clarke straightens the wrinkles on her dress and then looks to Lexa again. "We'll meet again."
"Of course." Lexa can only reply as she's watching Clarke hurry out of the alley.
They meet often for the next few years; through Lexa's training as a privateer at thirteen; through Clarke's debut to society while Lexa finally joined Anya's privateering company at sixteen; and through Lexa becoming Anya's First Mate at eighteen.
Anya glares at her when she boards the ship. "Took you long enough. Thought I'd have to reassign my first mate because you thought you'd go and play house."
"I don’t want to hear it today, Anya." Lexa grunts, leaning back against the mast.
"If you wish to be my first mate and a member of this crew, you will hear it." Anya meets her gaze. "We can't return. The crew draws too much attention."
"At least let me tell Clarke."
"Need I remind you that your loyalties lie with Polis, Lexa." Anya motions around at Polis, the frigate they're standing on. "What more loyalties could you need in life?"
"I know where my loyalties lie." Lexa crosses her arms. "She's…"
"Special. Aye. I hear you, mate." Anya sighs. "But if you two are fated to be together as legend tells us, then you have nothing to worry about." She watches Lexa jump back onto the dock. She calls out to her first mate. "Be back by sunrise! That's an order!"
Scaling the balcony has gotten easier for Lexa over the years. All the years training having to pull herself up to the crow's nest have definitely paid off. Lexa smiles when the low light from Clarke's room.
"Must you leave so soon? I have just gotten you back." Clarke murmurs against Lexa's shoulder as they watch the ships leave the harbor from Clarke's bedroom. Lexa wonders if there's more weight to the statement than Clarke lets on.
"Anya doesn't wish to stay long in Nassau in favor of scouting some of the other trading islands."
"How long?"
"Clarke."
"How long?" Clarke repeats, her arms circling around Lexa's waist to unbuckle the belt holding Lexa's sword.
"I haven't a damned clue." Lexa concedes in only a whisper, her breath hitching when Clarke untucks her poet shirt.
Clarke's fingers find their way under her shirt and up Lexa's ribcage. "Will you return?"
Lexa turns, her skin still burning from Clarke's touch, to meet darkened blue eyes. She reaches out to cup the side of the blonde's face. "I wouldn't dream of anything else." She leans forward in an urgent kiss, taking Clarke slightly by surprise that dissolves on their lips in a moan. Lexa, eyes closed and breath stolen, rests her forehead against Clarke's. She swallows thickly, only daring to open her eyes again. "You could come with me. Sail the seas on Polis."
"Anya would kill you."
"I'm her best crew member."
Clarke rolls her eyes. "She'll kill me."
Lexa chuckles as she tucks blonde hair behind her ear. "Then I'll call for a mutiny."
Silence befalls them. Playful fantasies can only last for so long. Clarke traces Lexa's jaw. Lexa's hands trace their own patterns on Clarke's lower back.
Clarke announces with some finality. "I can't leave Nassau."
Politics in Nassau calls for Clarke's presence. Her decisions and opinions gaining more importance in Nassau, sometimes even holding more weight than the Governor's and his council's.
Lexa can only nod, her gaze growing intense trying to memorize Clarke's face. "And I can't stay. Someone has to take care of Anya out there." Lexa sets her jaw. "The Royal Navy would arrest me, thanks to your mother."
"If they find you--"
"They won't." Lexa holds her gaze. They both know only death waits for any of the Polis crew, Lexa included. Then she kisses her with much less urgency before. All that's left is reassurance. Some semblance of a promise that she'll be careful despite Clarke worrying about her.
"If something happens to you--"
"The worst thing that could happen to me is if I lose you again." Lexa's exhales when she remembers how the plague claimed Clarke a lifetime ago. "You must keep from dying before I can return to you."
There's a response on the tip of Clarke's tongue, something between sniping and pleading. But, Clarke forces a smile instead. It's one that doesn't quite make her eyes glimmer like the sea.
Clarke leaves no time for questions when she's already leading Lexa back toward the bed. And all Lexa can do is give into everything Clarke asks. They've never had a say in their parting before, and like hell if Lexa is going to ruin this chance for them.
Lexa's never seen Clarke's eyes so deeply blue before, so full of plea for a solution that isn't available to them. All Lexa can do is kiss her hard, urgent and unfailing.
An unsaid declaration of 'I'm yours' is placed between every touch, every gasping breath, and every release of Clarke's name from her lips. It's the only tangible declaration she can manage to give and Clarke willingly takes.
Just before the first light at dawn, Lexa whispers a soft goodbye into blonde hair. Lexa presses one last lingering kiss to her temple. She gathers her belongings, swiftly dressing herself and securing her belt with sword safely at her hip. One last look over her shoulder to Clarke's sleeping form, sets something cold in the pit of her stomach.
How many lifetimes would they have to wait to meet again?
***
There's always a conflict, always some tragic happenstance that tries to keep them in two different worlds.
She falls from the sky with grace and power, and Lexa watches in awe.
The world is complicated as ever; Lexa is as loyal as Clarke is skilled.
***
The wind cuts through skin on this cold winter day in London. Lexa pulls her coat tighter around her. She scans the busy courtyard to check for officers on patrol. When she is sure that she is not being watched, she hoists herself up to scale up the building. She needs a better view of the streets, a better sense of busy areas and hiding spots.
Her target is nowhere in sight, and she's starting to lose her patience. Gustus had informed her about a new Assassin taking up residence in the town. This presence is to be eliminated as soon as possible. The Templars need to stop the careless, reckless Assassins from disrupting peace as it stands in Europe.
She fiddles with her pistol, drawing it from its holster only to spin it back into place. She paces the rooftop, drawing and redrawing her pistol, for another hour before she finally sees her target. The signature Assassin attire never disappoints in a crowd.
She quickly hops down to an awning before leaping into a less-crowded section of the street. She sprints to one end of the courtyard only to slow her pace to a brisk walk amongst the crowd. She follows the white hood, staying several yards behind to avoid being detected.
She trails until suddenly the white hood disappears from her sight. She finds herself in the middle of an alleyway, free of beggars and drunkards. Her senses are on high alert, knowing full well that this is a trap. Before she can make a run for it, she finds two men approaching on either side of the alley.
She hears a weapon unsheathing from above and a figure landing on the man to her left. The figure donning the same hood she was previously trailing throws a knife at the other man to her right. Lexa tries to quickly dash the opposite direction she came only to be pummeled to the ground.
Lexa's on her back, looking up into such striking blue that her heart stops. She feels the cool metal of a blade against the exposed skin on her neck before her last memory comes back to her. Blonde hair splayed across white sheets in the threatening break of day. She swallows and quickly chokes out, "Clarke."
"How do you know my name?" The voice is low and defensive, the pressure of the blade against her neck increasing. "Who sent you?"
"Clarke. It's me."
"Who the hell are you? Answer me!"
Lexa blinks up at the woman holding a blade to her jugular. It's never taken this long for Clarke to remember. Something in Clarke's eyes changes, but the blade remains in the same precarious position.
"Lexa." She finally lets go, backing away while Lexa takes a breath. Her blade back in its mechanical sheathe attached to her wrist. There's a strain in her voice that Lexa recognizes. "It's you." All Lexa can feel is guilt. "You never came back."
The blonde sits up against the wall, her head falling into her hands. Lexa stares up at the grey clouds and lets out a shaky breath-- Clarke's alive and--
"You're an Assassin."
Clarke scoffs. "You're a Templar."
"I'm supposed to kill you." Lexa chokes out, recalling her purpose for being in London. She backs up to the opposite wall, resting her head back against the brick. "And I take it you're supposed to kill me too."
"My training tells me you would only be a threat." Clarke tries to steady her breath. "What happened to you?"
Lexa only blinks. "I became the Captain of Polis."
The blonde barks out a laugh. "Of course."
"You became the beloved Governess of Nassau. Not much to complain about, Clarke."
Clarke shoots the brunette a glare, her eyes turning to ice. "Except you weren't there."
"You never lifted the laws. I couldn't set foot near the island."
"Cut the bullshit, Lexa."
"I had a crew to protect, Clarke." Lexa says evenly. "Your choices were as limited as mine. We would've been stowaways in each other lives if we stayed together. Had we been found out…" She lets herself trail off. She couldn't stand the thought of someone or something taking Clarke away from her again.
Clarke stays quiet, and it makes Lexa a little nervous. With a deep breath, Lexa slowly gets up from her position opposite of Clarke. She takes a hesitant step before walking across the alley to sit next to the blonde. She draws her pistol and hands it to woman beside her. Blue eyes study Lexa for a long moment. Clarke doesn't move.
"I'm not going to kill you." Clarke relents, pushing the pistol away. "No matter how angry I am with you."
"What about your little band of assassins?"
"What about your mobs of self-righteous bigots?"
Lexa narrows her eyes. "We want peace, Clarke."
Clarke deadpans. "And we want complete and utter turmoil."
The brunette rolls her eyes. "Mockery isn't a product of a strong mind, Clarke."
Pulling her knees up to her chest, Clarke asks a question they've both wanted an answer to for a few lifetimes. "So, what now?"
Lexa turns her head and offers a small smile. "We hope our spirits choose more wisely next time."
Clarke shakes her head, failing to hold back her laugh. She takes Lexa's hand much like she had lifetimes ago. Thieves in the night, stealing a moment to just be. Criminals trespassing into a moment that shouldn't be theirs. Two souls fighting to remain as one. A promise lost between timelines.
Lexa says the only thing that haunts every one of her lifetimes. "If you remember anything, know that I am yours eternally."
"I know."
***
Some lifetimes, they don't meet at all.
She has long fallen from the sky, and Lexa has long since kept her feet grounded. They roam around unknowingly searching for their better half.
The world is changing and decides Lexa and Clarke should remain apart.
***
It's another day at the diner. No different from the rest of the days waitressing, except that this would be her last day. She'll miss this place, but she knows better than to dwell on the past. She has to look forward to move on with her life. She can rejoice getting the job at the law firm in the middle of the city.
She's pulled out of her reverie. "Yo, Woods!" It's Octavia. "Don’t fall asleep on your last shift. Wouldn't want you slacking or anything."
Lexa rolls her eyes. "Says the girl who flirts with every attractive person who walks through those doors."
"So, you do think they're attractive!" The younger girl grins widely as she fist pumps. "I knew you had eyes."
A family waves Lexa over, so she leaves Octavia at the counter. She hears the bell above the door ring, but she doesn't turn like she usually does. The booth has so many substitutions that she's positive Indra would spit in their food.
When she's done, she walks back up to the kitchen window to place the order. She calls out to the chef. "Heads up, Indra. Lots of substitutions for table 8."
Lexa looks up at the clock. Five minutes to freedom. She spies Octavia out of the corner of her eye. As expected, she's flirting with the customer that just walked in. To her credit, her laugh actually reaches her eyes. Lexa shakes her head and waits for the other waitress to return.
Octavia all but skips back. "Chick at table 2 is a 10. You should totally sneak a peek on your way out."
"I regret telling you I have eyes." Lexa lets out an exasperated sigh. "Besides, Costia should be here to pick me up soon. I'm going to forget you the moment I walk out the door."
"No you won't. You'll miss me."
Lexa rolls her eyes. "Something like that." Octavia goes in for a hug to which Lexa will oblige this once. "Good luck with everything, O."
"You, too, Woods. Don't forget us small people here."
Lexa clocks out and bids farewell to the kitchen staff. Indra hands her a milkshake to go as a parting gift. On her way to the door, she sees table 2 but only the back of the woman's head. She'll just have to take Octavia's word for it. She doesn't look back. She just keeps moving forward and out. Like she's supposed to. Ready to start anew.
***
Then, there are lifetimes that put all others to shame, demonstrating their time apart is as important as their time together.
She reigns from the sky, and Lexa reigns from the ground.
The world is divided. Lexa wages a war with her own heart long before Clarke.
***
In Clarke's defense, Lexa doesn't remember right away either.
She doesn't remember when Clarke kom Skaikru waltzes into her tent with an offer the Commander couldn't refuse. Not when so many of her people had fallen victim to the Mountain. She doesn't remember when Clarke held Anya's braid in her hand.
She doesn't remember when she watched Clarke kill the boy she loved. She doesn't remember when she takes down one of the many walls guarding her heart to teach Clarke a lesson about hodnes laik kwelness.
She doesn't remember when she watched Clarke take a drink from a tainted bottle. She doesn't remember when she watched Clarke hesitate at taking Quint's life. She doesn't remember when Clarke saved her life from Pauna.
But she does remember. Maybe not in extraordinary detail, but she remembers something during that night she kept watch while Clarke slept. Fuzzy details about a sunrise come to mind, but Lexa isn't one to dwell on such trivial matters.
"You heart shows no sign of weakness."
Lexa's not sure where the realization comes from. It's sometimes hard to differentiate between her gut and some other warm feeling in her chest. It's an honest admission, especially after all the times Lexa must have offended her. Clarke kom Skaikru is one of Skaikru's strongest people, with great potential for leadership. It was like she was born for it.
The news of the missile takes Lexa a little by surprise, but they need to move. Fast. But Clarke doesn't want to leave. She can't see the point in living to fight another day. Something familiar pulls at Lexa's chest when Clarke goes back for her mother. Like an ache that can't be aided, a past wound that ghosts over her heart. Lexa can only pinpoint the feeling of relief when Clarke finally follows her to safety.
It's like she remembers, but then she doesn't. It's like the wind the way it passes through, stills, and repeats its cycle.
But, she doesn't doubt Clarke's judgment. Even when she seems borderline mental. So, she calls off the kill order on Octavia.
And maybe they deserve more than just surviving.
Lexa lets another one of her walls fall quickly, relishing in Clarke's reciprocation of the kiss which Lexa initiated, before quickly building them back up. Only now, there are cracks the size of Clarke where they should be solid iron.
Just like Clarke gave her an offer she couldn't refuse, the Mountain Men gave her one she also couldn't refuse. She needed to save her people from this mountain of death. If only the cost wasn't this steep. Her head triumphant in this battle. For her people. Despite Clarke's pleas.
Clarke's eyes begging her to stay brings back something familiar in her chest. Another fuzzy memory full of the salty air and thick tension. Like she's made this decision before.
"May we meet again."
And Lexa wishes for three months straight that they would meet again. Clarke had sought freedom or privacy or some form of escape after she annihilated the Mountain. But the Ice Queen grows impatient to claim the power of Wanheda, the Mountain Slayer. Lexa surely couldn't allow Wanheda to fall into the hands of the Ice Nation.
She doesn't blame Clarke's vehement reaction to seeing her again. She doesn't blame Clarke for not wanting to see her. She surely doesn't blame Clarke for putting a blade to her throat. She sees something she hasn't seen. At least, not in this lifetime. Clarke's lips tremble violently and she says the words she should've said however many lifetimes ago.
"I'm sorry." The blade falls with a clatter. "I never meant to turn you into this."
Lexa had hoped that Clarke would remember, but she doesn't. And Lexa doesn't blame her in the slightest. Clarke remains shaken, remains devastated by what Lexa did. What Lexa has done only a handful of lifetimes before. Lexa expects Clarke to take the out, to finally be free of this battle that Lexa can't fight alone.
But, Clarke stays. "If you betray me again--"
Lexa stays, too, no matter how much Clarke may doubt her and she won't let Clarke finish that sentence. "--I won't"
Lexa moves to kneel, her eyes never leaving Clarke's for a moment. Her words are strong and real, her soul as bare as it's ever been. All her walls demolished for Clarke to bear witness.
"I swear fealty to you, Clarke kom Skaikru. I vow to treat your needs as my own…and your people as my people."
A heartbeat passes and Clarke reaches out her hand. Lexa takes it and stands. Their eyes trained on one another, both unwilling to break this delicate promise.
If there's anything that Clarke can't doubt, it's that Lexa always finds her way back to her. And if Clarke can't remember right now, then Lexa will remember for her.
Besides, they have a lifetime.