adamance: (how DID the animals survive?)
lexa ([personal profile] adamance) wrote in [community profile] station72 2017-08-01 02:56 am (UTC)

[Lexa's preparations are swift—though not as swift as she'd prefer. Her usual coverage is a scarf around her face, a hood drawn over her head, and a cloak combined with them. It's during this moment that she decides that these delicate clothes and their heavy hold on her will not get the best of her. It's at this moment that she decides that she will be better suited to being without them as a burden. In this case, unburdening herself means mastering them, knowing how to draw them on swiftly. But that's a lesson for another time.

She steels herself as she heads toward Bellamy's quarters, but she's halfway there before she can feel the flood of grief and discomfort. After months together, she knows Bellamy's mind well. The anxiety that's present is his alone, one that she's grown accustomed to surfacing time and again, especially in more dire times. Is this one of them? Or has Clarke found herself more confounded by this? She knows that it was unfair to ask Bellamy to tell her, but at least she's had a moment or three to conceptualize what it means for Lexa to be here.

(It's odd now, to think she had been a Host in her new life for about a month when Bellamy arrived and informed her that she would have died if she had stayed. No matter what, she would be dead.)]


( I'm coming in now. I can feel her. ) [The words themselves don't demonstrate how it is that she feels. Lexa wonders how Clarke might react to her mind: to knowing that she can finally confirm every frustrated accusation she once threw in her face. At the time, Lexa herself had been annoyed by those remarks. That's because they were true. No one has ever been so pointed as Clarke had been (or so correct). Murphy's come close since then, but it differs.

As it is, she knows better than to overwhelm Clarke—at first. The strict barriers she maintains are momentarily fortified as she pushes open the door and closes it behind her. Seeing Bellamy's hand against Clarke's face like that sends an odd twist through her stomach at first, a hint of jealousy that she can't altogether ignore. But she stifles it, glad for her mental foundations. She would have wanted Bellamy here regardless.

Lexa moves like Lexa as she leaves her spot before the door, proud steps somehow managing to cut through the space as she moves to take off the first layer of cloth, holding it in her hands. Her green eyes look out at the room—or, more specifically, at Clarke's rattled features.]


I never ... we never prepared for this moment. That was an oversight of mine. [Would it have been better if they had? Would they have somehow wished her here sooner? It's hard to say, as neither Bellamy nor Lexa are fond of believing that their wishes can just come true. And preparations like that would be close to admitting longing through action.]

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