[It seems as if they are destined to suffer losses. Even with her new connection to the Flame, Lexa lacks any of the knowledge that might help her ask about these deep sleeps that the other Hosts enter. All she knows is that it is both unusual and it is wrong. How it's wrong is unclear to her: Nirad spoke of it as if it was just a thing that happened. Then again, Nirad spoke of a lot of things as if they were merely things that happened.
Still, the sound of Angel awakening stirs up Lexa's awareness. The static is not surprising, nor is the sense of where she heads.
The last they spoke, Angel had been suffering guilt and loss yet again. It was before Bellamy arrived, before Lexa learned of her death (or another Lexa's death—to her, it remains the same). It was before she spoke to Carata and learned that her hope to return home was nothing more than a naive claim. She doesn't know that she's accepted this truth yet. She hasn't told Bellamy, or anyone else. It's occurred to her in the company of others, but she hasn't mentioned it.
If she doesn't speak it, does that make it not true? And given the Nest, do they need to speak anything at all?
Her mind is clouded and restrained when she enters the common area, walls up to keep most others from peering in. Lexa has been careful not to dwell on these thoughts except in the privacy of her room. With walls up, the others can't see the discomfort on her face. They can't be curious about where her mind has wandered. And above all else, she can give herself the illusion that no one else can sense that her mind has changed regarding the proceedings in this world. Or in all worlds, including her own.
Her arms hang loosely at her side, and a smile appears, because she's at least able to call Angel a friend now.
(It's what Clarke would challenge her for not claiming her to be, so Lexa knows better. She has to kick certain habits in this new life of hers.]
I knew you would return to us, [she says, a hint of pride in her voice.]
no subject
Still, the sound of Angel awakening stirs up Lexa's awareness. The static is not surprising, nor is the sense of where she heads.
The last they spoke, Angel had been suffering guilt and loss yet again. It was before Bellamy arrived, before Lexa learned of her death (or another Lexa's death—to her, it remains the same). It was before she spoke to Carata and learned that her hope to return home was nothing more than a naive claim. She doesn't know that she's accepted this truth yet. She hasn't told Bellamy, or anyone else. It's occurred to her in the company of others, but she hasn't mentioned it.
If she doesn't speak it, does that make it not true? And given the Nest, do they need to speak anything at all?
Her mind is clouded and restrained when she enters the common area, walls up to keep most others from peering in. Lexa has been careful not to dwell on these thoughts except in the privacy of her room. With walls up, the others can't see the discomfort on her face. They can't be curious about where her mind has wandered. And above all else, she can give herself the illusion that no one else can sense that her mind has changed regarding the proceedings in this world. Or in all worlds, including her own.
Her arms hang loosely at her side, and a smile appears, because she's at least able to call Angel a friend now.
(It's what Clarke would challenge her for not claiming her to be, so Lexa knows better. She has to kick certain habits in this new life of hers.]
I knew you would return to us, [she says, a hint of pride in her voice.]