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“I’ll miss the Winter Festival this year I suppose,” Clarke hummed as she leant back into her Houmon’s embrace.
“The Winter Festival?” Lexa asked questioningly. “Is that like your Unity Day?”
“Similar, yes.” Clarke agreed with a soft smile as she reached up to twine her fingers through the long digits pressed against her bare stomach. The two women stood at the edge of the window in Lexa’s bedroom, a sheet wrapped around both their bodies, peering out across the fluffy white snow laden buildings of Polis’s underneath the Tower.
“What will you be missing Hodnes?” Lexa murmured, dipping her head to brush her lips across Clarke’s shoulder, before squeezing Clarke’s hand.
“The Candles,” Clarke nudged Lexa’s hip with her elbow teasingly as she spoke, “but mostly the meal. On the Ark, we tried to preserve as many of The Old Earth traditions as we could—we thought that we were all that was left, and if we didn’t remember then no one else would—but we didn’t have the resources to do everything properly. At first the people got by following their own traditions, but once Children began to be born on The Ark those traditions had to be taught. We didn’t have candles to light, or paper to wrap presents in, but we did the best that we could with what we had.”
“It must have been difficult.” Lexa offered with a frown and a purse of her lips. “Living amongst the stars.”
“It was beautiful.” Clarke whispered after a minute of silence. Her eyes drifted away from the snow-covered buildings of Polis to the glittering stars overhead. “It truly was, but, we always knew that it’s very beauty could kill us.”
“I am glad that it did not Hodnes.” Lexa tightened her arms around Clarke’s hips.
“Me too,” Clarke chuckled softly as she turned her head to press her lips against the curve of Lexa’s cheek. “Do you want to know what my favourite tradition is from the Festival?”
“Of course,” Lexa smiled brightly, “I want to know all your favourites Klark.”
“Mistletoe.” Clarke said. “I’ve always loved mistletoe.”
“Why?” Lexa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Because, if you stand under a sprig of mistletoe, and kiss someone you love, it is meant to bring you both good luck for the coming year.” Clarke said before shrugging her shoulders. “I just… I remember my Dad would always surprise my Mum by holding this terrible drawing of mistletoe above his head, and she’d be laughing but she’d kiss him and… They were happy. You know?”
“Sha Klark,” Lexa murmured, “I know.”
~
“Lexa…” Clarke narrowed her eyes at her Wife watching as the woman uncharacteristically rocked back and forth on her heels. “What are you up to?”
“I discussed mistletoe with Okteivia,” Lexa replied, “and I… I wanted to offer you the same happiness your Father gave your Mother.”
Clarke watched as Lexa drew a small sprig of mistletoe out from behind her back. “Lexa…” Clarke whispered as her breath caught in her throat.
Lexa slowly stepped toward Clarke before lifting her hand to hold the mistletoe above Clarke’s head. “I would like to kiss you now Klark kom Trikru,” she murmured as she dipped her head to bring her lips within a hair’s breadth of Clarke’s mouth, “and every year after this.”
Clarke’s heart shuddered in her chest, and threatened to burst out of her throat, as she leaned in to capture Lexa’s mouth in a heavy kiss. “I love you.” Clarke whispered when she pulled away to bury her face in the side of Lexa’s neck.
“Ai hod yu in Klark,” Lexa replied, a soft smile on her lips, as she held Clarke against her.