#pre-plot

@knightedlancelot

Sank you @zburatorii ^^ I actually wrote a longish snippet on Friday which I may of may not post in full here lol. 

Context: Vincent is returning to the car after a succesful run in the woods and Takeru is pleased to see the small changes in his best friend.

Takeru’s fingers wrapped around Vincent’s forearm, quickly finding the rapidly beating pulse. Brown almost black eyes met clear blue ones. There was a joyous spark in them, one Takeru had not seen in more than ten years. Vincent’s face was flushed, redness breaking the natural tan of his skin and mixing with the dusty-brown freckles that dotted his cheeks. Takeru nodded in acknowledgement. His experiment had been a succes. 

Lexa’s eyes connected with her own in the mirror as she ran a brush through her hair, removing the braids and the tangles from her fight. One moment kept playing in her head: Seeing Clarke push to the front of the crown. The moment their eyes met. The moment Lexa knew she would not fight alone, even if she was the only one in the ring. Heda barely remembered the fight itself. It was all a blur of fear and anger, ending in triumph drowned out by the voices of her people. And when Heda had been able to break away, Clarke was gone once more. But that last glance, those last words before the fight, they were crystal clear.

Lexa had pretended to be so brave. She often spoke of her death as if it were nothing, but the possibility had never been so close as it was today. She could have brushed death with her fingertips. In a way she had. The deep cut in her hand from gripping Roan’s sword throbbed. Titus had wrapped it for her after the fight, but the bandage was bulky and now caked with blood. Clarke would have done a better job.

Clarke. The Commander’s mind kept returning to the Sky Girl. She had changed her world. Lexa saw things so differently now than before she had met the girl who would become the great Wanheda. Commander of Death. It was such an unfitting name for Clarke. Sure she had countless kills, so many that her back could never carry the marks; not that Clarke wanted to be reminded of the lives she’d taken. Lexa was certain she would rather forget. She was just as certain that Clarke would try to find a way to spare her enemies if she had to do it again. Clarke was the Savior, not the damned. Her presence today may have saved Heda’s life. She had something to fight for.

Lexa took a deep breath, rolling her lips between her teeth. Finally making up her mind, she set down the hair brush and stood. She exited her quarters and was immediately greeted by her night Guard.

“Heda,” He greeted her, instantly at attention.

“Stand down, Warrior,” She eased him. “I’m just going to go for a walk.”

“It is late, Heda, and you’ve had a long day-”

“Yes,” she snapped, cutting him off. She closed her eyes and took a breath to steady herself. She knew he was only doing his job. “And I would like to go for a walk to shake it off.”

“At least let me escor-”

“No,” She stopped him short, her hand up towards him, “I will be find, Warrior. Remain at your post. I’ll be back shortly.”

The guard hesitated a moment, then nodded, stepping back to his post next to her door.

“Hm…oh…hey gramps. What’s up?”

The man paused from whatever he was doing, his attention going to the elder Saiyan. A friendly grin of sorts on his features. What could he want? His arms folded together, tail waving out in greeting.