Clarke felt it before she knew what it was. The feeling, knowing, from the first time they shared space and Clarke walked into the commander’s tent. Lexa was futurity. She was hers.
When Lexa betrayed her at the mountain. She felt that unnamed thing cry out in sorrow. Held it close like a wounded animal, snarling at anyone close enough to examine it.
She felt it blossom and take root in her core as Lexa knelt in front of her. A promise on her lips as warm and sure as the hand in her own.
She felt the heartbreak of it so soon after finally naming it, fresh on her lips. There is power in a name. To call love by its name out loud. She thought she understood it then, in its absence. Holding her love tightly as she slipped away.
It was here in this moment she understood it. They were always destined for someday, once they were done surviving. Lexa was her futurity, and she hers.
“I don’t want to be alone,” her voice cracked at the thought.
Clarke turned. And it’s her. Lexa. Or well a copy of her, haunting her eyes like her memories do her dreams. How she always inhales sharply, her senses assaulted whenever she comes across the faint smell of lavender.
She walked with her ghost down the empty beach.
“I get it. I bear it so they don’t have to,” Clarke said to the ghost as much to herself, “again.”
“Such a curious species. You added so much to us already. I’m glad to have been wrong already.” The universe’s imitation stated. She knew what she stared at was a lie, but couldn’t take her eyes away. Drinking in every detail of how a future Lexa could have been.
“Wait, does that mean you’re here to bring me with you?”
“No, you can never join us Clarke. Your action must have a cost.”
At that Clarke’s gaze broke. Grinding her jaw she looked down to the smooth gray stones at her feet, before back to those green eyes, to that face.
“Just mine? Am I the only human being who ever sinned?”
“Of course not. You are the only test subject from any species anywhere in the universe since the dawn of time who committed murder during the test.”
Green eyes were earnest, but they weren’t hers. There was no crinkle between her brow, or tightening of her jaw. All the details Clarke had memorized. Could hum the tune of her song.
“Madi knew you’d say that.”
Clarke’s attention shifted at that. A different kind of ache resurfacing in her chest.
“In a manner of speaking, yes. Her consciousness has joined ours. She’s at peace. She’ll never feel pain and she’ll never die. She knew that living here without anyone her own age to love is something you wouldn’t have wanted for her. Even if it meant you being alone. Suppose that choice was made easier with the realization you wouldn’t be.”
“Transcendence is a choice? You can choose to come back?”
It’s the first time she’s felt it, that seed of hope. And it scares her more than any army.
“Of course. Though until now no one ever had.”
Clarke shook her head trying to understand. Then she heard it. A sound she’s been dreaming of for years. Like a wind chime, the melody of Lexa’s laugh danced across the wind. Accompanied by a bark.
She turned and there, on the beach by a river delta. It’s her. Lexa. Standing up from a small fire, she shades her eyes with a hand and smiles. The dog, stick-in-mouth, wagging it’s tall by her side. Behind them the beginnings of a hut mid construction.
The site took Clarke’s breath away.
“The decision is irreversible. She won’t join us when she dies. She doesn’t seem to care.” She heard her ghost say.
When she turns her head no one is by her side.
She could have floated across the rocky beach for all she knew, the next thing she felt was Lexa’s strong arms around her. Real and warm and strong.
“Are you real?” Clarke asked, gripping tightly at the girl in her arms.
“Ai hodness,” Lexa sighed into her hair. She pulled back just enough to look Clarke in the face. Lexa’s thumb gently caressed her chin. “I’m real.”
“Lexa,” Clarke breathed, “You can’t go back now. You’ll die.”
“Clarke, I have lived many lifetimes. I have died. All that is left for me is to do now is more than just survive. And I want to do that with you.”
Clarke pulled Lexa’s lips to her own. Putting everything she had been carrying since they last met into the kiss. All the pain, and longing, and love. Every plan they didn’t get to. Every word they didn’t say.
When they parted for air Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke’s. They stayed close breathing the other in. Clarke smelled that hint of lavender and smiled.
“Are they still up there?” Clarke asked, “The other commanders?” Unsure what she wanted the answer to be.
“No,” Lexa shook her head. “They are gone.”
Clarke swallowed, a tear falling down her face. Knowing that meant not only the connection to past commanders was gone, but also to Madi.
Lexa is just Lexa, no more past commanders voices in her head.
“There is no more need for mantles, Clarke. Heda, Wanheda, we have carried our burdens long enough. We owe nothing more to our people. You have shepherded them to the peace I had promised. And now we get to live.”
Clarke’s shoulders unconsciously lowered, releasing tension she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She pulled Lexa into her again, kissing her deeply. If they were to live she was going to do the thing she had wanted most all these years.
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