( the problem with inevitable heart to hearts with lexa is that she often spoke in monologues, striking many tumultuous chords that resonated into a symphonic swirl of responses; raises so many facts and examples that clarke scrambles for which to address first. she wants to first impress upon lexa her importance. the world would never forget her, if they'd truly managed to defeat alie as murphy had said, they would rebuild a blood-splashed polis upon the new ideals lexa had been willing to die for. the lack of any concrete legacy is no fault of her own — all the love and care with which she'd molded the young nightbloods set to take her place had fallen under ontari's sharp treachery, but the flame had been the key to their supposed salvation, and that had been a part of her. no one was going to forget that.
clarke wants to reach across the table and take lexa's hand, nearly makes a move to, but the other woman has already slid them under the table top. that small movement, a small physical withdrawal, only serves to widen the gap that seems to be growing between them, even as they sit so close. the effect is double edges, clarke's determination to bridge their understanding coupled with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness to do so.
she wants to draw up categorized examples of all the times she's had lept to lexa's defense; put her trust so firmly in the commander that her people had questioned her senses in the wake of the mountain, turned bellamy away from the throne room in polis, appealed to luna to finish what lexa had started with the overarching cloud that lexa was special, and her vision of peace worth pursuing. then of screaming and crying at jasper jordan, begging him not to destroy the flame, of letting her mother hang herself instead of giving up the passcode — though admittedly that had been just as much about preserving the lives of both their people than it had been allowing an ai access to what little she had left of the woman she loved. and here, she had defended lexa's harsh words to a sorrowful aloy, waxed poetic about her very existence to mat. were these events not enough to prove she had heart enough to lexa and bellamy in equal measure?
all those sentiments grapple, and they are alike; two worn shells threatening to burst with emotion heavy enough to suffocate. but diplomacy reigns; clarke wades through complicated waters to dig at the root of whatever resolution is possible here, and doesn't allow the tone of her thoughts to catch the blossoming dread in brewing in the back of her mind. )
(Are you asking me to choose, or telling me that I already have.)
no subject
clarke wants to reach across the table and take lexa's hand, nearly makes a move to, but the other woman has already slid them under the table top. that small movement, a small physical withdrawal, only serves to widen the gap that seems to be growing between them, even as they sit so close. the effect is double edges, clarke's determination to bridge their understanding coupled with an overwhelming sense of powerlessness to do so.
she wants to draw up categorized examples of all the times she's had lept to lexa's defense; put her trust so firmly in the commander that her people had questioned her senses in the wake of the mountain, turned bellamy away from the throne room in polis, appealed to luna to finish what lexa had started with the overarching cloud that lexa was special, and her vision of peace worth pursuing. then of screaming and crying at jasper jordan, begging him not to destroy the flame, of letting her mother hang herself instead of giving up the passcode — though admittedly that had been just as much about preserving the lives of both their people than it had been allowing an ai access to what little she had left of the woman she loved. and here, she had defended lexa's harsh words to a sorrowful aloy, waxed poetic about her very existence to mat. were these events not enough to prove she had heart enough to lexa and bellamy in equal measure?
all those sentiments grapple, and they are alike; two worn shells threatening to burst with emotion heavy enough to suffocate. but diplomacy reigns; clarke wades through complicated waters to dig at the root of whatever resolution is possible here, and doesn't allow the tone of her thoughts to catch the blossoming dread in brewing in the back of her mind. )
( Are you asking me to choose, or telling me that I already have. )