Archive of Our Own ^beta

like an arrow to the chest, she's helpless to falling, sinking, crumbling--

a blink. a flash. small and quiet.

a breath. a sigh. broken, cracked, seeping with a life wasted on hatred and anger.

those watery eyes look into her own and she feels her world implode.

and then, it comes out like a small prayer, a pleading cry to a star that's long since burned out--

it's a chest clogged with infinite regrets, heaving and struggling to make do with second chances long gone--

it's a hand, clasped over her heart, shaking and pale, unable to move for the fear of losing the faint beat underneath--

it's a kiss, faint and fleeting, much like the moon passing through the sun for a brief second as the two lovers finally meet--

but it's not enough, nothing is ever enough when she whispers, "i can't do this without you."

---

raven doesn't speak after mount weather.

clarke left three days ago, bellamy and monty are barely functioning, and abby inundates herself in work until she can't take it anymore.

and raven?

raven remains mute, unable to understand, unable to recognize anything, not even her own name.

gina brings her meals and keeps her company while she slaves away at fortifying arkadia. they barely communicate, nothing but shifting glances and nervous steps, as if the slightest mistake would cause the destruction of the planet. their fingers graze and their thoughts linger on lips unmoving, teeth clench with the pain of holding back everything that threatens to undo them. gina doesn't know about mount weather, doesn't know about the drills or the blood or the death that consumes the remaining forty-seven whole.

a whole community, ended in a matter of hours.

genocide.

raven grew up reading books about the world wars, the holocaust, eugenics and colonization. she remembers stories of auschwitz and dakau, of the six million jews starved and killed for simply existing or the native americans sterilized and slaughtered on their own land for the sake of imperialism and greed. she remembers hiroshima and nagasaki, of the south african apartheid, of the black lives movement, of dead children in the street, killed by men sworn to protect them. she remembers the suicide epidemic, the nuclear cold war, the natural disasters that wrecked havoc throughout the earth--she remembers asking herself how a god could be so cruel to let such disasters occur.

they've progressed years into the future. they've lived in space.

but what has changed?

raven can't answer the question, not without acknowledging the pit in her throat that threatens to suffocate.

still, the thought lingers, creeping like a shadow after a long day, a black cloud that hovers and reminds, 'you did this, you did this, you--'

so would it be so bad, to be swallowed whole and to submit to a permanent darkness?

---

the months pass and things get easier.

they discover ways of creating agriculture to get fresh food. they engineer a crop system and create a water supply from the nearby lake. raven works on developing an energy-saving program for the electricity on the ark. wick supports her until he can't, but raven can't even be mad. not when there are fifty-three graves outside with children buried within them. not when finn's ghost haunts her, when his distant voice calls to her in her sleep, whispering and begging in a voice clogged by blood and sorrow, 'i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry-'

raven doesn't sleep, but it's okay.

things are better when she's awake.

when she's awake, she doesn't see a pale hand holding the knife, the fire of green and face painted with black.

---

clarke returns with news of lexa and the weakening coalition. she spits the commander's name like it's a poison and you can't help but revel in the pure hatred spewing from her lips. clarke tells you of how lexa's command has been challenged, of the assassination attempts, the rising coup that is around the corner, and raven feels this sick sense of satisfaction crawl through her bones like a parasite.

it lays its eggs and breeds thoughts she unwillingly digests.

she killed them. she killed him.

she is the real murderer.

it's not the truth, raven knows this rationally, but it's enough for now.

---

lexa comes to arkadia on the start of the fourth month.

raven is the first to squeeze through the doors and make her way to the front of the crowd, a hand curled around a hidden dagger inside her worn bomber jacket. there's a permanent snarl at the corner of her lips and she's like a predator on the hunt for her prey. an overwhelming rage consumes her, burns her alive, creates an infinite hole in her heart that aches to ravage and feed--

but then, raven sees her.

the world stops turning and raven's grip falters.

those tired green eyes shift over to meet hers, and raven can't breathe.

lexa's skinny, gaunt cheekbones and boney fingers. deep bags hang under those tired forest greens, and raven swears she can almost make out the hunch in her shoulder from upon which their entire world is placed. lexa's gaze keeps steady with her own, but it's void.

and suddenly, that raging inferno of loathing and contempt is gone.

lexa's chest expands and deflates in a forced breath before she turns to face the crowd of angry sky people calling for her attention.

'traitor', 'murderer', 'monster'--

the words never end.

lexa addresses them, strong, a face of authority even if she looks anything but. clarke stands at her side, glaring at her with tears watering those icy eyes. when lexa's done telling them about preparing for the winter, cautioning them about the grounder army she's sent to defend arkadia in the event of an attack by the ice nation, raven watches clarke spin on her heel and leave lexa on her own with a mob of angry citizens. lexa answers each of their questions and accusations calmly until they've run out of threats. the sea of people part, and like moses, raven steps forward until she's facing the source of her pain.

lexa doesn't cower under her stare, but something in her gaze softens.

and then, in a quiet breath, she utters her name.

'raven.'

but she doesn't reply.

instead, she spits on the ground near the commander's feet and shoves past her.

---

lexa keeps her space.

the grounders have been here for two weeks now, helping prepare the sky people for the winter. clarke supports her in public, but raven's overheard their conversations when they assume they're in private. lexa stands and takes the abuse, the slaps, the drunken slurs of insults that would earn any other person an instant execution. raven's seen it once, when she'd come to ask clarke about her malfunctioning radio.

clarke holds her against the wall, fist clenched in a shirt with tears in her eyes.

raven leans against the door and peaks through the crack, like a child watching her parents fighting from the covers of her bed.

lexa doesn't fight back, not when clarke punches her sloppily. she doesn't utter a word when clarke snarls blasphemy and empty threats. black blood pours from her nose when clarke grabs her head and shoves her face first into the wall before stumbling backwards. 

'i hate you,' clarke seethes, her words slurring together, and that's when raven notices the empty bottle on the table. 

'i know,' lexa replies, calmly, rationally, as if the statement is something she's assimilated into her frame. clarke shakes her head, her lip curling back to reveal those cracked lips and yellowed teeth. something in lexa's gaze softens and raven sees the small flicker of her fingers before those muscles restrain and her hand stays still by her side. clarke shakes her head and shoves lexa again, tears dripping like the icicles that hang outside the infirmary, slowly, silently. when she's decided she's had her fill, clarke snorts and chuckles sadistically.

'you could never know.'

clarke spins off her heel and makes her way to the door, eyes narrowed like a woman on a warpath. raven quickly turns around and hobbles back to the end of the hallway. she hears the door crash open behind her so she glances over her shoulder only to see clarke storming off in the direction of the infirmary. raven stands still for a moment, staring at the door swaying back and forth, back and forth, back and forth--

it feels automatic, reflexive, and before she knows it, her curiosity gets the best of her.

raven makes her way back to the door and stands outside, peering at the sight inside.

lexa's staring at her hands with a blank, heavy expression like she's trying to map out the lines of her deception, to find a route that could somehow fix all that's been done. raven opens her mouth to give a piece of her mind when lexa sighs and closes her eyes.

and then, in a moment of reverence, lexa falls to her knees and lets out wavering breath.

the great commander, the people's messiah--atlas with the world on upon her shoulders, kneeling like some lowly peasant.

it's then, as raven watches a single inky drop falls to the floor under lexa's bowed head, she realizes that gods bleed too.

---

azgeda bandits strike on the coldest night.

four of lexa's men die defending the guards posted at the front of the camp. lexa goes out to fight off the remainder until the scouts are chased into the blizzard, back into the depths of hell from which they'd spawned. the guards, bellamy and miller among them, are unscathed. both men begrudgingly give their thanks to lexa, who waves them off with a smooth, powerful flick of her wrist.

'do not thank me,' she tells them as the wind wails over her voice, 'thank those who gave their lives for yours.'

raven watches through her window as lexa braves the bitter cold at the front of the four pyres, stoic and silent like a watchful guardian.

she doesn't come back until drawn rises over the mountaintops and the fire burns to ash.

raven stays up all night watching her, trying not to let the image of haunted green eyes lull her into the abyss.

---

'i have something to tell you,' clarke says to lexa one day while they're eating lunch in the canteen. raven's head nods up and she cocks her head curiously. it's been five weeks since the attack and the conditions are still tense between grounders and sky people, but the addition of food and water have helped ameliorate the rough bounds between them. clarke and lexa's relationship remains strained, however.

so this new proposition, from clarke of all people, piques her interest.

lexa swallows her bite slowly, bracing herself for another hateful tirade. for a moment, raven pities the implicit flinch she notices.

'yes, clarke?'

'it's about anya,' clarke says, and this time, lexa's flinch isn't implicit. you feel a pain in your chest when you see those green eyes flicker with a slight glaze. clarke clears her throat and looks away nonchalantly, her fingers playing with the fork in her hand.

neither of them talk about how long it takes for lexa to swallow down the sob that raven knows must be pulling at her throat.

'yes clarke,' lexa repeats but not without some wary to her tone. clarke sighs and glances up, eyes stern and hard, boring into the commander. the commander, raven looks to her, who seems more like a teenager, a young girl robbed of innocence in a cruel world.

'i lied about her death,' clarke tells it bluntly, ripping the bandaid off the wound, 'the mountain didn't kill her. we did.'

raven tries to hold back her own tears when she sees lexa shudder and clench her jaw tighter, before hanging her head. clarke stares on in silence and raven feels awkward sitting between them like this, like a mediator preventing a war. but lexa doesn't shout, nor does she request clarke to be tied for treason. lexa doesn't scream or yell or cry. instead, she takes a breath so heavy even raven feels empty. 

'thank you for telling me,' lexa says, trying and failing to keep the crack out of her voice before she stands, 'if you could please, excuse me.'

clarke doesn't have words, so she just nods and allows lexa to bolt from the table as gracefully as any leader could. raven follows her out, how she walks briskly but not unsteadily. she doesn't know what propels her but she's following, ignoring clarke's confused remarks and questions in the background. she shoves past bellamy and gina standing by the beverage station and takes up a light jog. 

she remembers anya's death. the blood and the dirt and the grime. she remembers the blank look in the grounder's eyes. she was there when abby cleaned her body and injected the formaldehyde. she remembers the new power system still functions the morgue. as far as she knows, there haven't been any changes or developments to the containment of its inhabitants, and for some odd reason, raven picks up her pace. there are tear in her eyes now because she can feel finn at her side, his hand on her shoulder, urging her to hurry.

she finds lexa standing in the middle of her assigned room, staring at her hands once again.

'hey,' she says, startling the other woman. it's the first words she's spoken to lexa since mount weather.

'raven,' lexa replies courtly, and raven tries to ignore the pull at her heart when she sees the faint smudge of kohl under lexa's eyes. lexa tracks her gaze and haphazardly attempts to swipe away any evidence of weakness with a soft breath. 'i apologize for leaving so bluntly--'

'i can take you to her,' raven interrupts, stepping into the room. lexa's mouth hinges open, like a fish out of water, she nearly splutters.

if it were any other condition, raven's sure she would have mocked the ridiculousness of the commander star-struck and speechless.

'i don't know who she is to you, but abby kept her body. preserved it, actually, in case she belonged to you.'

she would have laughed at how lexa chokes on nothing in any other time, but not now, not today, not while lexa's heart is a graveyard.

she might not forgive her for turning her back on them, but raven knows that if she could have anything in the world, it would be closure.

'she's gone, commander, but at least you can say a goodbye, right?'

it's a morbid thought, but raven's sure she's never seen lexa look so hopeful.

---

anya looks like she's sleeping.

there's no blood, no gore, nothing violent or bloody.

there's no hand with a knife, rope around her body, no fear sketched out upon her face as she'd taken her last breath--

and yet, lexa approaches her like a wary fawn, steps tentative and light, her face still contorted in disbelief.

raven watches from the door way as lexa sits down at the small stool by the extended table holding the fallen warrior. lexa is quiet, eyes wide and wet with tears that refuse to fall, hands folded tightly and anxiously before her, still unsure that what she's witnessing is real.

and then, several exhausting moments later, lexa reaches out and faintly touches anya's forehead before closing her eyes.

a single word leaves her lips, deferent and tepid, whispered like a prayer.

'sis…'

raven doesn't speak trigedasleng, nor does she ever intend to, but she doesn't need to be fluent to understand the connection. she watches, frozen and captivated by the gentleness of lexa leaning over to peck the deceased woman's forehead. only then, as her lips make contact to the preserved flesh, do those tears break through the dam and spill out over her gaunt cheeks. raven can't watch as lexa struggles to hold it together, to fight the tears that fall, one by one, like rain after a drought. swallowing, raven turns away and reaches for the door.

she doesn't look at lexa as she murmurs, 'i'll give you a minute.'

---

as soon as the door closes, lexa sobs are violent as they crash against the sterile walls like a thunderstorm. 

raven hears it through the wall and she can't help it, she glances through the window and her heart breaks all over again.

lexa is curled up at anya's side, nose tucked against her neck, fingers clenched into the pale blue gown covering anya's body. she cries in trigedasleng, words slurred together and hiccuped between sobs. raven remembers gustus, the hesitance and slight quiver in lexa's hand before she'd slid the sword through his heart. she remembers the pull of gravity upon lexa's shoulders, the weighted sigh, the hidden tear--

raven's heard it before, from the grounder warriors that explain lexa's role to the sky people.

to be commander is to be alone.

for the first time since mount weather, raven closes her eyes and cries.

---

raven stands with lexa at anya's pyre. 

clarke comes and stands beside the commander. indra, octavia, and lincoln remain at the corner of the burning body, silent and still. indra's gaze occasionally passes between raven and clarke, and finally to lexa. clarke murmurs a few words about her time with anya, of the older woman's lessons and loyalty. she talks of tris and the bridge, of the determination to bring a peace treaty to trikru to stop a war they'd never intended to start. clarke puts aside her animosity for a brief moment in order to quietly whisper her condolences before heading back to camp. lexa stares on, unaware of anything but the glow of the fire and the smell of burning flesh. 

'she is at peace now, heda.' indra offers her support, but lexa can't even acknowledge her either. raven watches as the older woman swallows thickly, passes a final, fleeting glance at the pyre, before she limps past the commander towards arkadia. lincoln stands beside his commander, placing a hand upon her shoulder and squeezing lightly before he nods at the pyre and follows his general with octavia in tow.

and then, it's only her and lexa left.

raven watches as lexa's eyes cloud with grief and she sighs, looking away out of guilt.

'for what it's worth,' raven whispers as she stares at the pyre with a glazed expression, 'i'm sorry we fell from the sky.'

'i'm not,' lexa murmurs, causing raven's head to jerk upwards in surprise. 

'what?'

'if the ark had not fallen, then our people would not be together now,' lexa says back stoically, 'anya would've have wanted that.'

'you know, she never really struck me as a peaceful person,' raven attempts to joke flimsily, and somehow, it draws a small smile to lexa's lips. it's barely there, just a small curl of her lip, but it's enough to make raven's heart skip a beat. lexa sighs and shakes her head.

'despite her intimidating front, anya was the one who advocated for peace since your first landing.'

raven processes the information, trying to digest that the meeting on the bridge was anya reaching out.

she can't help but think, if she hadn't been there, if she hadn't planted that bomb, if she hadn't--

'she would've have taken a liking to you,' lexa muses, as if in her own world. 'you would have gotten along well.'

that causes raven's thoughts to jar abruptly and her jaw hinging out of shock. she opens her mouth to speak, but lexa sighs.

'her death was necessary,' lexa mumbles into her chest as she bows her head, 'without her, a peace would never have been brokered.'

'lexa,' raven trails off, her voice cracking, 'i…'

'there are no words,' lexa says back, the moment disappearing in the smoke of the burning embers. 'the dead are gone, raven.'

'it doesn't mean that you didn't care about her,' raven counters back weakly, 'you loved her, lexa--'

'love is weakness,' lexa bitterly interrupts, piercing raven with a cold, empty glare. 'love is what gets people killed, raven.'

'so that's it?' raven asks, baffled as she feels her heart constrict for this poor, socially deprived girl expected to lead the world. 'you give up?'

'no,' lexa says as she turns back to the pyre, 'i move on. i lead our people. i must give them what i am not allowed to give myself.'

'and what's that?' raven asks, her voice dry and scratchy. lexa straightens her back, the impassive mask falling over her eyes once more. she moves her hands to rest behind her back and tilts her chin up, and only when raven adjusts her gaze, she realizes that lexa's holding back tears. everything within her aches to reach out and draw the taller girl into her arms, to hold her tight and never let go, but she's frozen.

and then, lexa replies, cold as the winter winds that whirl around them--

'i give them peace, and that in itself is worth all the weight they cannot bear, but i can.'

'i've never seen peace,' raven replies, looking to the ground. 'the whole reason we went to space was because of war.'

lexa remains quiet for a moment before she takes a breath and walks over to where raven is standing.

raven is surprised when a calloused hand gently squeezes hers, but she doesn't pull away.

'one day you will see it,' lexa tells her as they both look at anya's pyre, 'and i promise you it will be beautiful.'

---

lexa didn't show anymore moments of weakness after she'd let go of raven's hand.

since anya's funeral--if it could be considered that much--lexa is colder and more stoic than ever. clarke's anger and hatred has faded, only to be replaced with a constant state of sadness. lexa provides her with an ear to talk to, someone to vent about the struggles of holding a nation together in face of war. lexa is quiet and contemplative, letting clarke talk until she's exhausted. raven will be with them and she'll observe the tenderness of lexa's touches and her soft voice that soothes even the darkest of clarke's nightmares.

it's when she sees lexa standing guard by clarke's room, does raven feel the last embers of her animosity fizzle into nothing.

---

lexa wakes her from a nightmare a week later.

she carries raven to the bed, cleans up the sweat from her brow and massages the trembling from her limbs.

raven clings to her, fingers clenched into her skin and drawing small specks of blood under her nails, but lexa says nothing.

instead, she tucks the sheets up to her neck and whispers soothing nothings until she falls asleep.

---

she understands why grounders see her as a god, but lexa can never be anything but mortal.

but she is, oh god, she is.

---

lexa grows thinner, and raven hates herself for not noticing sooner.

before long, the commander can no longer stomach more than two mouthfuls of food at a meal. her bones poke through her skin like her very soul is trying to escape the hell trapping her. her eyes are sunken and void of life. clarke notices, too, and she tries to get the commander to eat more, to sleep more, but lexa refuses, claiming even those bare physiological needs to be weakness.

raven knows what's happening, but she's powerless to stop it.

---

two weeks later, a challenge arrives from the queen.

lexa is to meet her son in solo gonplei to determine her legitimacy as a leader.

clarke pleads for her not to go, but lexa does not listen.

raven doesn't plead the night she is meant to depart. instead, she goes to lexa's room and stands before her, chin tilted up and eyes glazed.

'you don't have to do this,' she says calmly, but she knows the answer. 'you don't need a challenge to prove your leadership.'

lexa smiles at her softly, endearingly-almost, and raven's chest burns with the pain that flickers in the base of her throat. lexa comes to stand before her, hands slowly moving up until she cups raven's cheeks. the commander's thumbs graze over her cheekbones softly.

'it is not for me,' lexa tells the mechanic in a soft, wistful tone. 'it is for our people.'

'but what about you?' raven asks, tears spilling down her cheeks and catching in lexa's palms. 'i don't want, i can't--'

raven looks down, ashamed. she never meant for it to go this far.

but when lexa's lips meet hers in the softest, sweetest kiss she's ever experienced, raven realizes she was always powerless.

'the world is a vast place, raven.' it's finite. solid. like a bullet to the chest.

all-encompassing. all-consuming.

but it's not enough.

'you don't get it do you?' raven sighs as she looks down, leaning her forehead against lexa's own. 

'a world without you isn't worth living in.'

lexa chuckles sadly, her thumb gently caressing the line of her cheekbone once more.

'oh, but it is', she replies as she leans in and presses her lips to raven's own.

---

much to raven's surprise, lexa feels the same way.

---

raven's lived in space, but the way lexa's fingers trace her bare spine and her lips mark their place in her shoulder, she realizes this is what infinity feels like. there are spaces between lexa's scars that remind her of distant constellations. there are no limits, their lovemaking is boundless. lexa kisses her like her depends on it, and raven kisses her back because she knows it does.

somewhere between their lovemaking, raven starts to understand that she's never met a soul as lonely as her own.

until she met lexa.

---

lexa leaves with kane to fight the queen's son with no more than a kiss goodbye before leaving their room.

arkadia is quiet after the horses fade from view.

raven retreats to the engineering room.

the world is a vast and infinite place.

but it means nothing if she's got to traverse it alone.

raven will hold on hope.

---

days pass. 

no one hears a thing.

raven stays strong and keeps her head up.

lexa will come home.

---

days turn to weeks.

raven's hope dwindles.

the winter grows colder and the nights grow longer.

---

news passes of the ice nation camps retreating back to their homeland.

rumours of victory--of a new coronation--spread through the adjacent villages.

raven can't take it anymore.

she barges into clarke's room, a steely look of determination encompassing her features as she nods to the younger woman.

'get your things,' she tells her with a shaky voice, 'we're going to polis'.

---

she doesn't know what she is to lexa.

clarke is lexa's friend--best friend even--indra is her general and trusted warrior, but raven doesn't know who she is to lexa.

maybe, she thinks as she approaches polis' grand walls, she'll have a chance to find out.

---

there is a new king.

his name is roan and he is just and fair. 

the coalition is stronger than ever. kane meets them and tells them of skaikru becoming the thirteenth clan.

clarke looks relieved, but raven isn't convinced, not when kane's eyes are sympathetic rather than joyful.

so she asks, dreading the answer, 'where is she?'

---

'dehydration, sleep deprivation, low body fat, severe blood loss, muscle atrophy, internal ruptures--'

clarke's got tears in her eyes as she continues listing the symptoms, but raven isn't listening anymore.

not when she's looking at the pale shadow of the girl she's fallen in love with laying on her deathbed, lingering from breath to breath.

---

raven does not leave her side, not even when lexa tells her that polis is beautiful in times of peace and prosperity.

'polis means shit to me if i can't see it with you,' she replies.

lexa smiles, weak and watery, but it lightens raven's spirits.

'there is a market,' lexa hums as she plays with raven's fingers entangled with her own, 'as a child, anya would get me an apple tart and take me to the meadow where children play. perhaps one day, when the weather is warmer and the sun is bright, i will take you there.'

raven's breath hitches and she chokes back a sob as she bittersweetly whispers, 'i'm holding you to that.'

---

as days go by, lexa's condition deteriorates.

she grows thinner, weaker, and soon she can't leave the bed.

but raven stays, just like lexa had once stayed for her.

---

'you knew, didn't you?' she asks one night, while they are lying side by side, hand in hand, staring up at the intricate ceiling designs.

lexa's breath is rattled and wheezy as she rasps, 'i did.'

'then why did you leave?' raven asks, unable to stop the bitterness from her voice. lexa sighs, her chest falling slowly.

'because i am born to die,' lexa replies steadily, 'it is the purpose of a commander. we are vessels for our people. i am not afraid, raven.'

raven tucks her head into the crook of lexa's neck and shoulder, her eyes closing as she presses closer to her lover.

'i'm sorry i spent so long hating you,' raven tells her softly, whispered like a secret. lexa only leans over to press a kiss to her forehead.

they fall asleep, unwilling to recognize the inevitability that creeps behind them.

lexa's forgiveness is silent, but it speaks louder than any words ever could.

---

like an arrow to the chest, she's helpless to falling, sinking, crumbling--

a blink. a flash. small and quiet.

a breath. a sigh. broken, cracked, seeping with a life wasted on hatred and anger.

those watery eyes look into her own and she feels her world implode.

and then, it comes out like a small prayer, a pleading cry to a star that's long since burned out--

it's a chest clogged with infinite regrets, heaving and struggling to make do with second chances long gone--

it's a hand, clasped over her heart, shaking and pale, unable to move for the fear of losing the faint beat underneath--

it's a kiss, faint and fleeting, much like the moon passing through the sun for a brief second as the two lovers finally meet--

but it's not enough, nothing is ever enough when she whispers, "i can't do this without you."

lexa swallows her confession with a trembling kiss, before she whispers the antidote to her sadness between her lip--

'you can.'

---

clarke visits and makes her own apology. it's heartfelt and soft and she crawls into the bed beside them to wrap her arms around lexa.

raven won't admit it, but she did cry when lexa's shoulders sagged in relief for once.

---

lexa stops breathing one night and raven screams for clarke to come.

her heart stops beating twice, but she doesn't die.

lexa waits, holds out, holds strong.

raven waits with her, begging for just a few more days.

---

lexa loses the ability to sit up or feed herself. she can barely stay awake or even speak.

clarke calls for abby and the experienced doctor gives the morbid prognosis.

'pneumonia,' abby tells the commander grimly as she finishes setting up an IV, 'there's nothing more i can do. i'm… sorry.'

lexa nods, thanks her, and abby leaves.

'you're not leaving me,' raven tells her adamantly, 'you promised to show me polis.'

lexa smiles as she weakly rasps, 'i will, raven. i told you, the markets are beautiful in the spring.'

raven kisses her forehead, blinking back tears. lexa continues to remain strong and accepts her fate with a squeeze of raven's hand.

---

the next day, raven knows can't wait any longer.

'i love you,' she whispers as lexa takes in her next, rattling breath. 'i love you, so you can't leave me.'

lexa's shoulders lose more weight and raven brings her lover's hand to her lips to graze her knuckles in a dusting kiss.

'you can't leave me,' raven whispers between croaks, 'you can't leave me when i've just found you.'

lexa lets out a soft wheeze, her fingers clenching as tightly as they can around raven's grip.

'i promise,' lexa breathes as she uses her energy to glance into raven's eyes weakly, 'my spirit will always be with you.'

---

lexa calls for aden the next morning.

the boy is young and raven doesn't catch a lot of their conversation, but she doesn't need to.

she knows aden is a nightblood.

she knows what that means.

she knows, but she can't do anything about it.

---

that night, lexa's voice is quiet and soft.

'i am prepared to die,' lexa admits quietly and raven's heart constricts, but lexa isn't finished.

'i am prepared,' lexa repeats weakly as she turns her head to face raven, 'but i don't want to die just yet.'

'then live,' raven urges her, as if lexa truly is a god amongst men, 'live, baby, live.'

lexa's smile is bittersweet as she leans her forehead against raven's own.

and then, she softly whispers, 'for the first time, i am.'

---

lexa's final breath is taken away with three words.

raven never lets go as lexa smiles for the last time, the last of the weight leaving its place upon her weary shoulders.

her voice lingers even as the silence engulfs the space between them.

i love you.

---

aden makes a good ruler. he shows raven polis during the spring and tells her of his childhood being raised by lexa.

raven see bits of her in him as he leads with a just and fair head, but treats his people with the love and care they deserve.

the spring air is warm and smells like honeydew and it doesn't feel as empty anymore.

it isn't easy, but raven finds a way to live a life less full.

---

the gaps fill overtime. lexa's presence is rooted within her, steady and unwavering, but the pain fades.

soon, she takes the time to visit the market the next spring.

she buys an apple tart and sits by the meadow where the children play. she hears them laugh and watches them happily exist.

they do not have to worry about their next meal, or if their village will burn. they live in a world without any burdens.

and with that thought lingering as she takes a bite of the tart, for the first time since lexa's death, raven really smiles.

---

there has not been war in twelve years. strife diminishes between all the clans and aden continues to rule justly.

raven spends her days working with tech in polis and taking strolls through the field in the village where she's taken to live.

each afternoon, she glances around at the sun spilling out onto the swaying wheat and her lips turn up into a small smile.

---

lexa was right about many things, but especially about this.

peace is beautiful.