#witchfic

Life was annoying, Anya decided.

You’d wake up, go through a bunch of tedious routines, sometimes work, find time to eat a few times a day, and then you’d sleep. Rinse and repeat. And when she was always surrounded by imbeciles, well, that didn’t make her situation any better. No, life was annoying, even if the other witches in the coven weren’t so convinced.

They’d been on some tiresome road trip up north to a place where a historical coven was founded, resting atop an intense intersect of ley lines. Anya couldn’t quite bring herself to care about history in freezing weather, especially while she crammed into a large hotel room, surrounded by a half-dozen people she didn’t really care for aside from her cousin, Lexa.

Or, well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, as her eyes found a familiar blue-eyed blonde across the room, shivering in an empty corner and alone. Of course, she wasn’t exactly friends with Clarke Griffin, but the girl had always caught her eye, and aside from her beauty, she seemed sweet enough. Call her a sap, but Anya was a sucker for a nice girl with a pretty smile, and Clarke’s? Well...

Anyway, they’d made their pilgrimage up north, only to run into a blizzard. Not exactly a surprise given it was the dead of winter and the forecast had been calling for storms in the area for the past week. Didn’t exactly surprise them, or at least it shouldn't have.

Sure, one of the elder witches could have used her abilities to still the stormy weather outside, or simply have let Anya do the honours, but that would break 'the code' and potentially draw unwanted attention, so instead, they were holed up in hotel rooms for the night, waiting for the storm to pass.

She understood, of course. It was literally her role in the coven to uphold the code and to subdue outside threats who would try to break it for their own means. Still, she hated freezing weather.

And maybe because of her own stormy mood through the whole trip, the others had grabbed up spots on the beds, leaving her to curl up on the floor with her oversized blankets. Which, whatever. They might not be able to quell the storm outside, but her affinity was elemental magic; she was just fine under her blankets, channeling a bit of heat to warm herself and the space she was resting on.

Clarke, on the other hand, hadn’t managed to grab a spot on the beds in time, and looked absolutely miserable off in the corner, quivering like a leaf. Whatever specialty the other blonde had, it didn't include anything involved with heat, that was for sure. While Anya had never been known to be the most hospitable person to relative strangers, this was Clarke Griffin, the certifiably cute girl she might have had a bit of a crush on for ages.

Sure, she'd never managed the guts to talk to her when she was younger, and left their stream to graduate into a different coven before she could even remotely become friends with her, but the feelings had remained over the years. They only grew again after her transfer to their current coven. Not that she'd act on those feelings, certainly not so brusquely, but she could finally extend an olive branch to her crush. There were worse things than sharing her sleeping area.

“Clarke...Clarke...” She whispered across to the blonde, letting out an annoyed growl when the girl didn’t register her voice. When blue eyes darted towards her at the sound of her frustration, she could only roll her eyes. “Do you want hypothermia? Get over here!”

Clarke eyed her blankets with clear yearning, but shook her head. “They’re yours. I don’t want to bother you.”

Anya let out a scoff and threw her blankets back a little, enough to hold out a hand palm upwards, summoning a small flame after a brief whispered incantation. “Don’t be dense. I don’t want you to freeze to death. Plenty of room here for us both.”

Clarke hesitated for a few moments before letting out a lengthy sigh and crawling over to her. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Anya flung the blankets back and patted the spot beside her, watching as Clarke settled down onto it, an immediately relieved smile blooming on the girl’s face. "Oh wow, it’s so warm. Thank you." Clarke murmured, only seeming more content with the warm blankets that were draped over her. "Remind me to sit by you on the bus ride tomorrow."

“Whatever. Just sleep.” Anya mumbled as she let out another burst of warmth into the pocket of air they were sharing, doing her best not to show how happy and excited she was that Clarke had taken her up on her offer, and that the girl was maybe considering sitting by her on the bus tomorrow. Looking overeager only ever led to rejection, she learned that the hard way.

Clarke did indeed sleep, zonking out almost right away, which made for a double-edged sword.

On one hand, Anya wasn’t being kept up by Griffin talking, or moving around trying to get comfy, or anything like what she often dealt with when sleeping over at Lexa’s. However, the silence and ever-present steady breathing coming from her gave Anya’s mind a lot of space to think about the future. About a potential friendship with Clarke. About maybe potentially something else off into the future if Clarke swung that way and wound up single.

Between her thoughts and how tired she was, Anya fell into a haze, half asleep and slipping in and out of shallow dreams and semi-conscious thoughts on the girl beside her.

Honestly, she wasn't sure how much time had passed, and figured she was stuck in a dream for a few moments before she pieced together that the sudden warmth and curious wetness was real, that the sounds coming from Clarke were actually happening, and that the other blonde had actually closed the distance.

Anya needed a few more moments for the location of the wetness and friction to register, and a few seconds longer to think past the fact that Clarke had woke her up to recognize that maybe it'd be a good idea to see what was going on, since Clarke was definitely straddling one of her thighs and all.

"Clarke...? Whuh you doin'?" Anya slurred out, blinking away her sleep. She moved to roll away from the girl, but Clarke held fast and, more than that, held her down, body writhing against her, hips rolling against her right thigh.

It didn't seem possible, didn't seem real, but Clarke was humping the hell out of her, and sounded like she was close, a small annoyed grumble signaling that the blue-eyed beauty was quite content with where she was.

"Clarke, I'm not a damned pillow you can..." She started to say, hand reaching down to tilt the other blonde's head up to face her, not wanting Clarke to be able to ignore her. Except, it was clear as day, even in the dimness of the room, that Clarke wasn't exactly present, given how completely dazed the girl looked, as if her body was just on autopilot. Anya wasn't sure how to feel outside of deeply confused as she lay there, Clarke's climax building as her thigh got more and more soaked.

In all honesty, she was concerned. She'd heard of sleepwalking, talking in your sleep, that sort of thing. Anything remotely sexual while asleep? Anya had chalked that particular notion up as a myth before tonight. None of her past partners had even remotely done anything sexual while zonked out.

Yet, the quiet whimper and tight grip as Clarke's body shook, the girl clinging hard to her as an orgasm ran its course, let Anya know it was anything but a myth. And Clarke certainly wouldn't have behaved like that if she had full control of herself, so Anya knew she needed to take care of this properly, make sure Clarke was safe. After all, that was her role in the coven, so it wasn't as if anyone would think it strange; she'd physically defended their coven and innocents, and she'd hidden or destroyed harmful secrets. A wide range of tasks was in her job description, so protecting Clarke from whatever fallout there could be from this was her responsibility.

It wasn't as if she was head over heels and taking orders from her heart or anything like that, after all.

Slowly, the tension bled out of the blonde atop her, and Clarke's relaxed body curled up against her with a happy hum.

While all Anya wanted to do was catch a few more hours of sleep, especially with Clarke snuggled up halfway atop her, she knew she couldn't leave Clarke until the morning, when others might be up. Discretion seemed like it'd be important, given the circumstances, and Anya didn't want Clarke to be embarrassed. Even if she herself had suffered worse, she wouldn't wish anything of the sort for Clarke.

Gently, she took hold of the girl's shoulders and shook, jostling Clarke repeatedly until tired eyes fluttered open, a furrowed brow and an annoyed pout meeting her gaze. Clearly, she didn't like her sleep being disturbed.

"What? Tryin' to sleep, Anya." Clarke grumbled, letting out a frustrated huff as she propped herself up on an elbow.

Anya swallowed, unsure what words were appropriate, but that she needed to say something. "Clarke, you need to wake up."

Clarke's head cocked to the side in clear confusion, the girl moving to shift from her spot nestled against her when Griffin just froze, eyes widening.  "Oh shit....oh shit shit shit..."

Clarke immediately went to move away, but Anya didn't like the sheer panic written on the girl's face, so she wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist, holding her in place. "Don't freak out, it's whatever." Anya stated in her best reassuring voice, but Clarke wasn't having any of it. Even in the low light, she could see the glassiness of Clarke's eyes clearly. "How about we just take it easy for a bit, Clarke?" She added, reaching up to brush a fallen tear from the girl's cheek.

"I have no idea how to do that." Clarke grit out in a harsh whisper as she leaned away, breath hitching as a wave of realization seemed to wash over her. "Oh goddess, you must hate me now!"

Anya rolled her eyes, unsure how Griffin got that impression at all. With as much courage as she could muster, she reached down with a hand and ran her fingers across the slick coating atop her pajamas. Without a moment's hesitation, she brought it up and lightly smacked Clarke in the cheek with her wet fingers, stunning the girl.

"Stop it. You weren't in control. I don't hold it against you. But we need to clean up, and you need to calm down." Anya spoke slowly, holding Clarke's gaze, halfway wishing she could see the blues of her eyes, but she'd take what she could get. Anya maintained eye contact and waited as the other girl's breathing slowed and evened out. "You're okay. Tell me when you're good to head in."

Clarke nodded and kept working at her breathing. "I don't understand why you're not freaking out."

Anya swallowed hard and let out a heavy breath. "Not the exact same deal, but I might sort of know what it's like." Of course, she'd dealt with her own mishaps alone, in secret, no witnesses to be had, but she could empathize. She knew how scary it was for her body to betray her, and how embarrassing or humiliating it could feel to deal with the aftermath. Clarke deserved as much support through it as she might have liked in ideal circumstances.

Clarke let out a hollow laugh as she shook her head. "I doubt that."

Anya took the dismissal in stride, knowing she probably would have said the same in Clarke's shoes. "If you can talk, you can walk. Let's get washed up." Anya noted, rolling out from under Clarke and grabbing their luggage, hauling it quietly into the hotel room bathroom. Clarke followed her in a few moments later, her posture of movements all screaming discomfort and caution. "You want to shower first, or after?"

Clarke kept her eyes downcast, cheeks fiercely red under the harsh fluorescent lighting. "Second. Again, I'm sorry." Clarke reiterated, slumping back against the sink. "I didn't mean to. It's just...I'm not on meds for it yet. So I just...yeah. Sorry."

She cocked her head, brain whirring away at the other girl's words, wondering what medication might help with it. "You don't have to apologize. Is this...is this common, though?"

The immediate red tint at Clarke's cheeks almost had her heart thrumming faster than the sharp, steely glare Clarke shot her way, even if that glare only lasted a second or two. "I didn't fucking cum all over you because you're special or something. Don't take this as something it's not."

"I apologize, and I just didn't think you'd...well. It's just I woke up with you straddling my thigh, and you were a foot or two away before..."

"I'm a restless sleeper!" Clarke hissed in a barely muted whisper, head angling back to let out an exasperated sigh. "I sleep with a body pillow, so I'm constantly shifting around and ready to latch onto what’s soft and warm nearby. But...anyways, it's happened before. You weren't the reason."

Anya shook her head. "I wouldn't think I was. We don't even know each other well. In the end, it doesn't matter...I just want you comfortable, Clarke. I'm doing a bad job of it, and I'm sorry for that." She said, her mouth twisting as she pondered her options. It had been a while since she was brazen, or took such a risk in trusting someone, but she knew how horrible being vulnerable could feel. She wanted Clarke to feel a bit more secure, and she could tell the girl felt anything but at the moment.

Mind made up, Anya pulled her t-shirt over her head and pulled off her pajama pants, leaving herself half naked. Even though Clarke's gaze was still fixed on the showerhead, she could see the harsh swallow, the tense lines of her throat. "Look, we both know how it feels for our bodies to do stuff we don't want and can't control. You didn't want me to know about this, and I found out. I can speak words, but promises can't make you trust that I won't tell anyone." She said, waiting for a sign that Clarke was listening, a slight nod, before continuing. "So let's level the playing field, Clarke. Because I trust you not to disclose to the others that I'm trans."

With that, Anya grabbed for a towel and finished disrobing underneath it, allowing herself to be nearly nude in front of another person for the first time since just before her exile from her previous coven. She could feel the dysphoria burning in her gut, threatening to spread out and consume her, but she kept focus on finding her shower products in her toiletries bag, not wanting to make a huge deal out of the revelation.  

"If you put your dirty clothes in the sink, I'll wash and dry them later while you clean up." She offered before stepping into the shower, setting her products on the ledge and shutting the curtain.

Anya knew it'd likely be awkward between them, but she hoped, if nothing else, that she'd reassured the other girl even just a little bit. Maybe from that, they could start towards friendship.

Just maybe.

Clarke felt sheepish huddled up on the toilet seat in the biggest towel she could find, but given her situation, it was a necessity. Her sexsomnia had gotten her in trouble with Anya, and the last thing she needed was her fellow witch to be thrust into even more of an uncomfortable situation than they already had been.

It didn't matter what Anya said, Clarke knew the girl had to have taken some issue with what happened. People didn't just get their thighs used for orgasms by a stranger and shrug it off. And even if Anya could for some reason, she certainly woke the girl up in the middle of the night and had her doing laundry. No one liked being woken up to do chores. Still, Anya had been kind of sweet about it all, if a little clumsy, and had gone over the top to make her feel comfortable with it all.

Not that she could, but it was the thought that counted. Clarke couldn't shake the guilt over not having sought out medical help with her situation earlier, but it was a tiny bit comforting to know Anya was being good about it all.

Maybe it didn't hurt that she'd already been crushing on the tall, thorny witch since long before she arrived back in the coven after a few years away. She’d had a longstanding crush on her in their younger years as initiates, and had despaired when Anya suddenly graduated into a different coven than most of their stream, something no one had really expected. 

When Anya was welcomed into her coven a little under a year ago, she was different, much thornier and more distant than even before, if also more beautiful, but experiencing this softer side of the girl only endeared her to Anya more. Learning she was trans was a little confusing, and had her off balance for a few minutes, but again, it was clear that Anya trusted her.

That was more than enough to trust her with the rest of the night. Maybe once they were on the bus curled up together, maybe she could have a more than necessary conversation with her about spending some more time together, something she had hoped for once upon a time, before Anya had vanished way back when.

Clarke startled a bit at the sound of the shower turning off. "Just letting you know I'm done in here. Stepping out now."

Clarke moved to the sink, giving Anya plenty of space as she left the shower and grabbed the towel she'd set out.

"Oh, you did leave out your clothes. Good, I can wash and dry them along with mine." Anya continued as she covered up, lifting a hand to her head and emanating some level of heat as the girl's hair dried quickly without frizzing.

Clarke nodded and squeezed past her, stopping on the bath mat. "Thank you, Anya." She murmured before getting behind the shower curtain and tossing her towel out behind her.

The water was still warm, thankfully, letting her get to business quickly in cleaning up. She didn't bother washing her hair, just keeping it up in a bun while she got to it.

Her memory flashed back to when she was being drawn out of slumber, and the brief moment of comfort and contentment at realizing she was cuddled up with Anya. Sure, she'd been annoyed at being woken up, but staring down at a face that was normally so hard and closed off, only to see an oddly soft expression staring back at her, it did something to her.

Maybe she'd like Anya to look at her like that again one day.

It didn't take long to get clean, and she could hear the sink running when she turned the shower off. Careful as she could, she grabbed up her towels from the shower mat and covered herself up before stepping out. Anya was standing over the sink and mumbling, one hand holding up her pajama pants, and the other weaving water through it.

Clarke watched as the girl used a soapy mixture of water in turn, then another rinse and heat to set it. It was strange, basically seeing Anya use her magic to be a human washing machine, but it had her wondering what other ingenious ways the girl could use her specialty.

Her own was a bit simpler. It wasn't much of anything she confided in many others about, not wanting to garner scrutiny. Having the affinity to 'Jedi mind trick' someone, as Raven often put it, was a dangerous ability, especially since that was a bit of an understatement. More Kilgrave than Kenobi, except it did at least require her to make preparations or at least make an effort instead of a thoughtless word potentially being life-threatening.

It was all a big reason why she kept her distance from most in any meaningful way, but maybe Anya wouldn't be horrified. Maybe.

It wasn't until Anya finished with her pajamas that she seemed to realize that the shower was off, startling a little, head swiveling around to gaze in the shower's direction, settling on her. "I put your stuff on the toilet seat. They should still be clean and warm."

"Thank you." She noted sincerely, taking hold of the garments and slipping back behind the shower curtain to change. Embarrassing or not, Anya had cleaned her panties. On top of that, her clothes were all deliciously warm, and by the time she stepped back out, the residual heat was more than enough to make her feel sleepy again. "You didn't have to do any of this. You could have hated me."

"Why would I do that?" Anya asked with a level of confusion so audible and visible that Clarke wondered if Anya had forgotten about what happened out in the hotel room. "Anyways, it's okay. You're part of my coven, so I'm here to help. You're a good person. You didn't do anything wrong." Anya added flatly, shaking her head.

Clarke wasn't entirely sure on what track record Anya was making that judgment, but she appreciated the sentiment. "We should get back to sleep." She let out with a yawn. Anya readily agreed, taking hold of what seemed to be the blankets and their luggage as they quietly left the bathroom, the others in the room still fast asleep. Where the girl found the time to do all the laundry was a mystery to her, but either way, they sneakily made their way back into the room and settled back down where they'd been.

Anya, apparently a gentlewoman despite how she'd woke her up before, laid the blankets out and settled in a good foot and a half from Clarke. Wanting to figure out if it was manners or disgust causing the distance, Clarke shifted closer. "Pssst..." She let out, waiting for Anya's head to turn towards her before continuing. Thankfully, all she saw in the girl's face was confusion. Manners it was, apparently. "Maybe it's paranoia speaking but I'm a little worried it might happen again. I can't predict it. But maybe...maybe if we spoon, I won't be able to do anything even if my body tries?"

Anya blinked slowly once, twice, before offering a small nod. "That makes sense. I don't move in my sleep, so if I fall asleep holding you, neither of us will be going anywhere."

"Well, your arms might relax, but it's still a better plan than any other." Clarke added, earning a quick huff.

"I thought you'd have realized by now...I don't relax very easily. Not even in my sleep." Anya elaborated with an amused smirk, and alright, perhaps that did make a bit of sense, all things considered. The girl was rather intense, and sometimes even sleep couldn't cure folks of that. "But...Clarke...if your body does try to get off on me again, it won't be your fault. You can't help it. There's no shame in that."

It was a sentiment that even if she couldn't fully believe it, she could take some comfort in it.

With a steadying breath, Clarke rolled onto her other side and scooted backwards, stifling a gasp when she felt herself shuffle up against Anya. She tried to focus on a possible future friendship, cuddling on the bus, that soft expression Anya woke her with, anything but the strong arms around her waist or the soft puffs of breath on her neck that might have her thinking of more explicit things. It was everything she could do to whisk those away in hopes she wouldn't bring about another accident in the night.

"Just sleep, Clarke. Tomorrow's a new day." Anya let out in a yawn, the air around them warming up as Anya nuzzled into her shoulder.

As much as she wanted to appreciate the moment, between the heat, her lack of sleep, and the cozy comfort of being held, she found herself slipping away into slumber quickly. She barely got her arms to cover Anya's before dreams overtook her once more.

Anya had woken up alone a few minutes after the rest of the group had started to rise, and as much as she was a little disappointed in that, she was happy to get on with their ridiculous trip. According to Lexa, the coven traveled up to visit the site every five years, and she'd been unlucky enough to transfer in a little under a year ago, just in time to make the pilgrimage.

To make the day slightly more disappointing, Clarke had taken a seat with someone else on the bus. Raven, Anya was fairly sure, but she'd never been the best with names. Still, at least Lexa kept her company, her cousin deciding that she was more in need of company than Costia, apparently. Which, well, wasn't entirely wrong.

It made for an alright bus ride, Lexa's quiet presence helping settle her nerves and keep her temporarily distracted from the ridiculous trip. However when they departed the bus, and Anya saw two members of the council waiting there that had been off-site with various prior duties, she had a feeling that something was up.

When she watched Lexa, Costia, and Nia get called over, she definitely knew her suspicions were confirmed, hanging back to wait for her cousin while the others went off ahead to the old coven's ritual site.

Anya waited, teeth on edge as the group talked, watching Lexa's expression get darker and angrier with each passing second. There weren't many reasons she could think of for the council congregating out of the blue, but one came to mind after the previous night's events.

Anya shook her head. Clarke Griffin was a lot of things, but she never got the feeling that she was transphobic.

Which meant something absolutely hellish was probably happening, so Anya made the executive decision to sweep the premises for any threats, just wanting to help in case there was some imminent danger or threat.

It was when she noticed small groups of their coven's members head off in the direction of the large barn on the property that she felt real concern. So when she was nearing the end of her sweep and got a text from Lexa, telling her to meet her cousin back near the bus, maybe she'd already psyched herself up mentally for something bad.

She'd seen Lexa furious before, and it was clear as Anya approached that her cousin had merely tamped down on those emotions, trying to appear calmer than she was. Maybe that stirred some worry in Anya's chest, but she pushed it aside and leaned up against the bus beside Lexa.

"What's the verdict?" She asked, figuring some sort of vote had occurred, or was currently happening.

"You don't have to worry, it's been taken care of. Just...expect some hostility from some of the council members going forward." Lexa stated, voice hardly suppressing the cold, flinty anger her cousin often let out when threatened.

Meaning that as stunned as Anya was that she'd been outed, as horrified as she was to have been wrong about Clarke, this was also blowing back on Lexa. And that was unforgivable.

"What can I do to make this right for you?" Anya asked, earning a sharp shake of the head from her cousin.

"No. Nothing. We both know Nia's been gunning for my role in the council ever since I was chosen in the rite. She's using this as a sign that I'm undermining the history and tradition of the coven. The council was...split, which is why all the membership is voting. But I promise you, I have enough support for you, you're not going anywhere." Lexa insisted, her calm facade falling away bit by bit, letting her previous fury leak out. "You're as much a woman, as much a witch, as any of us."

Anya nodded along, head feeling like it was full of cotton as she just stared numbly at the barn off in the distance. She'd been told the same thing at her last coven, and had still been exiled.  It didn't matter that their goddess granted her a connection to magic, as She did any other woman in the coven. All that mattered to some was how she had been assigned at birth, an absurd thing to get stuck up on, but apparently not a hatred so easily escapable.

"Did they say who told them?" Anya asked, knowing the answer, but just needing to hear it anyways.

"Sienne said a witch she trusted confided with her, and she confided with other council members before bringing it to me." Lexa answered, Anya's fists clenching hard enough for her nails to cut the skin of her palms. Sienne was Clarke's section supervisor, overseeing all the witches whose affinities fell more in line with research and subterfuge.

Her heart twisted in her chest, knowing she'd trusted Clarke with something so important, only to be betrayed. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, perhaps she'd been foolish, too blinded by her affection to see the truth of Clarke's character.

Anya had woken up that morning hoping to work  on a new friendship, but now, with betrayal burning in her chest, with fear for her cousin setting her body on edge, all she could do was hold the line and do whatever she could to protect herself and Lexa. She'd hoped for a new home, a fresh start, but if she couldn't have that, she could at least have her cousin and Costia.

That would have to be enough.

To be honest, the whispering was kind of getting to her.

For the first half of the bus trip, she could tell some of the nearby witches were likely spreading some sort of gossip. Ontari, who was across the aisle from her, kept glancing her way, stifling the occasional laugh as she and her friend whispered away. It was a little annoying, but whatever. The coven had always been a little cliquey.

When they got off the bus, and others would reduce their conversations to a whisper whenever she and Raven were near, that raised a bit of a red flag that maybe something was off.

And when Nia goddamn Frost walked by, staring her down with sheer amusement in her eyes, well, Clarke knew something was going on that involved her.

Given she tended to be pretty low-key within the coven, there was only one possibility that came to mind, but it was hard to accept. Anya, after all, had been so sweet. Anya had trusted her with a secret of her own. There was no reason for the woman to go public about any of the previous night's events.

And yet, she and Anya had been alone. Anya had also been called away not long after they had arrived too meet with the full council, meaning something serious was being discussed. So what other explanation was there?

"Fuck, what is with the rest of the coven today? They're gawking at us like we shit our pants or something." Raven noted with a glare at Nia Frost's retreating frame.

"I made a mistake." Clarke muttered, staring hard in the direction of the barn in the distance. "When something seems too good to be true, it is."

Clarke could see Raven fiddle with the knife at her hip in her peripheral vision. "You need me to beat someone up, Clarkey? You know I've got you, no questions asked."

"Nah. Council's convened, and I'm pretty sure they're throwing the hammer down on her. Probably for 'inciting unrest' in the coven. She'll be someone else's problem soon enough, and...everyone will forget about my crap soon enough." She answered, letting out one last sigh of disappointment, not wanting to waste any more of her emotional energy on Anya. She would feel no guilt over wanting her exiled, and just hoped that people would soon enough forget about her own secret that was clearly spilled.

"And if they don't kick this mystery person out?" Raven asked, eyes narrowing as she shifted weight from one leg to the other.

Clarke sat on the couch with her head in her hands. She'd long since lost track of time, only knowing it had been dark outside for a long while. It'd been too easy to get lost in thought, and while she generally tried not to let her masochistic streak take over, she felt it was well deserved given the circumstances.

Hell, if only just the past year. She'd nearly killed Anya at the last major gathering, and certainly took her out of commission for a week or two. She'd heard from Lexa about Anya's recovery from her poison. Anya had only fully got back to a hundred percent just recently. If it wasn't for the fact that her abilities were so rare and valued by the coven, she definitely would have been exiled for her actions against Anya.

Anya had been taken to trial over her womanhood of all damn things, and villainized by the coven over the resulting schism in the membership and council, and yet she poisoned Anya at a major gathering without consequence. The thought of her having held a vendetta against Anya due to a need for justice seemed absurd now, given Anya was the one deserving of it, from the coven and from her.

I poisoned her, I almost killed her. I did that to her...I did that, and I slept like a baby...what kind of monster am I? Clarke wondered, roughly wiping at her eyes with the joint of her thumb. What the hell have I become?

Clarke wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that question.

She'd rushed out of Anya's room hours ago to leave Anya to rest up, reaching the front door just as the other woman's muffled screams reached her ears. She'd made for the outdoors, but the front door wouldn't budge, neither would the windows, or the second bedroom. They were still trapped, and it was like she could smell the death and decay around her from all the ways she'd hurt and nearly killed Anya in the past ten months, all the ways she'd promoted the woman's post-vote social isolation as some sick, twisted form of payback for what she thought Anya had done. She'd been so caught up in vengeance and her grudge that she hadn't clued in that maybe all wasn't as it seemed.

And now there they were, both having paid someone else's price many times over, both trapped together still, and both in recovery, if differently.

She wouldn't cry, couldn't cry, not when Anya was suffering one room over. Not when she'd just been brutalizing a weakened, defenseless version of the woman not long ago. Her stomach was rumbling but she couldn't handle eating any more of the pizza Anya made. Just knowing she'd feasted on it, and left Anya heaped on the ground for hours, when the woman had probably been hungry to start with, it all made Clarke feel sick to her stomach.

She wasn't raised to be cruel. She needed to do better, be better. If Anya had faith that she could, then she had to at least try. 

"Anya must be so hungry and sore. I...I can help with both." Clarke muttered to herself as she got up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She turned the oven on and got to making a smoothie, figuring the woman could use as much food and nutrients as she could handle.

It wasn't long before she had a nice cool protein smoothie and a bit of reheated pizza in her arms. Her heart quivered in her chest at the knowledge of who was on the other side of the bedroom door, the evidence of what she'd done waiting on the bed, but she pushed past it. Anya deserved better.

Clarke opened the bedroom door and stilled in the doorframe, eyes poring over the scene carefully, not wanting to disrupt the woman if she was sleeping. That question was answered in a moment when Anya reached up a hand, wiped at her face, and carefully sat up against the headboard. "Do I smell food?"

She let out a sigh of relief at being able to put her plan in motion and quickly made her way to bed, hesitating for a moment before taking a seat beside her fellow prisoner. Anya looked to be in better shape, her healing draught seeming to have gotten to work as usual. It was how wet Anya's face was that worried her, knowing it was too cold, and Anya wouldn't be running a fever, so it couldn't be sweat.

"Absolutely. I'm so sorry for depriving you all this time. My head's been scrambled, but it's no excuse. You must be so hungry!" Clarke let out, earning a small nod as those warm brown eyes stared hungrily at the pizza.

She offered the plate out, and Anya quickly set it on her lap and picked up a gooey slice, lifting it to her nose. "Mmmmn, delicious." The woman practically purred before taking a bite of it.

Clarke found herself in the confusing and curious position of feeling blood rush to her cheeks, feeling more and more inconspicuously out of sorts with every delighted moan escaping the woman beside her.  If only I could make her that happy... She found herself musing before shutting that thought process down. It wasn't appropriate.

It was an odd sight, though, watching Anya devour three of her pizza bowl slices and then demolish a smoothie, but the look of contentment that spread on Anya's face upon finishing was more than enough to put a smile on Clarke's.

"So I was thinking, your stomach and ribs must still be sore, and while the healing draught's still working away, I don't want you uncomfortable. Should I put together a hot water bottle for you?" She asked, hoping she wasn't rambling or making a ridiculous suggestion.

Thankfully, Anya just gave a small nod, prompting Clarke to hop from the bed and rush out to the kitchen to boil some water. As she waited for the water to cool enough to be poured into the bottle, Clarke found herself thinking back to that night ten months ago.

She'd been so cold and scared, and had been especially mortified when she'd woken up in the middle of the night, but Anya held her. Anya walked her through it, and made sure everything was in order. Anya had comforted her for no reason other than she wanted Clarke to be comforted.

In retrospect, that wasn't the kind of person who could have struck out at her like that, but she'd been naive, easy to manipulate. She was older now, she knew better now. And she had a feeling that together, she and Anya would find who hurt them, who set them against each other, and would make them pay.

But for now, she wanted Anya to feel the way she had back then. So when she returned to the bedroom with the hot water bottle, she couldn't quite will herself to leave. And when Anya turned onto her side, away from Clarke, and slipped a hand under the pillow, she saw an opportunity.

"I can hold it against you, if you want. That way, you can get some rest." Clarke mused openly, watching the other woman for the slightest of movements that might declare her presence unwanted. The heavy sigh that escaped Anya almost had her slipping from the bed, but then Anya's  other hand took hold of the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders, holding them there, leaving the hot water bottle unattended.

A silent acceptance of her plan.

Clarke thought she'd feel relieved, but she only felt anxious as she slipped under the covers and gently reached her arms around Anya's waist, carefully holding the hot water bottle in place and hugging it against Anya's abdomen. In essence, she was mirroring Anya's position from all those months ago, but it wasn't until Anya scooted ever so slightly backwards into her body that she felt any serenity about it.

Almost a year. Ten lost months where they could have been this close the whole time. Ten months of lost friendship, of suffering, of so many missed opportunities and experiences.

Clarke closed her eyes and pressed her face into the back of Anya's neck, her arms holding the woman a little more snugly. She had a lot to make up for, but for the moment, she felt she was right where she needed to be.

Everything felt hazy and weightless as she regained consciousness after her lengthy second bout of sleep. Honestly, she was almost entirely pain-free, her shoulder feeling fine instead of the fractured mess Clarke had made of it not a day ago.

The sun was setting, meaning it was getting close to twenty four hours since they'd arrived.  It'd been a long ass day, but at least there was a silver lining. And that was wrapped around her waist and a long cooled off hot water bottle.

It was a bit of a one-way situation, if she were honest with herself. She knew the disgust Clarke felt for her. It was the one thing keeping her from tossing the hot water bottle out of the way and bringing those soft hands to her waist where a guilty part of her might want them, knowing Clarke introduced that barrier for a specific reason.

She couldn't afford to be selfish when she still had yet to salvage a working relationship with the other woman. After all, they'd have to work together to weed out those who had set them against each other. That meant some level of amicability between them, which despite all the miscommunication, pain, and grave errors in understanding they'd made, Anya was sure could be an obstacle.

Again, Clarke made no secret in the past how her mere presence would ruin the other blonde's day. Anya had witnessed plenty of times the pure disgust flashing across Clarke's face upon seeing her, before the woman could school her features. Anya would accept the minimal comfort Clarke offered and would leave it at that.

But goddess, if she didn't want to just be wrapped up. With all that she'd learned, all the hardships she'd endured, and perhaps aided by her rather simple personal code of morals and ethics, tentative forgiveness had dropped away much of the deep seated feelings of pain and loss. It left her feeling like she had earlier that year in February, yearning for Clarke to smile at her, and yearning to be close to her. They couldn't turn back the clock, but she could try to get back to something close to where they'd been back then.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was twisted given their history and Clarke's violence, but Clarke apologized and showed real remorse. Clarke had been manipulated into being wielded against her. Clarke understood what she did was wrong and wanted to be better. That had resulted in the woman doing what she could to comfort and heal Anya to the best of her abilities, and that was a good first step. That had to count for something with how they both needed to move on from that painful chapter of their lives. And while it was unrealistic to expect things to ramp up to something unexpected, Anya couldn't help how she felt, how her memories of her early-mid teen years kept being drawn to the surface now that she didn’t have the spectre of Clarke’s hostility hanging over her anymore.

It was embarrassing. She was a warrior in their coven. She was the sword the council wielded when they wanted something to burn or bleed, but all she wanted in that moment was for Clarke to hold her close and tell her she'd never be hurt again, that it'd all be okay.

It was absurd, but it was what it was. Anya could deny a lot in life, but she knew her heart, and she knew it well. No point pretending she didn't still feel something for Clarke underneath it all.

Didn't change that she couldn't do anything about it, and that she had the willpower to keep to that resolution. At least barring any unforeseen changes.

Though, when Clarke let out a sleepy, annoyed grunt and pushed the water bottle away, Anya might have been frustrated that her will was being tested so soon. And when Clarke's arms settled all cozy and snug against her waist, all she could do was decide that she'd remain very still and quiet, and let Clarke figure out what to do when she woke.

And, well, Clarke deserved a good bit of rest after everything, too. Mental and emotional trauma needed recuperation as well as anything else.

It was maybe forty-five minutes later when Clarke let out a sleepy groan, which combined with the way the other blonde was nuzzling the back of her neck had her thinking she was waking up. Clarke only needed a few extra seconds to confirm it herself.

"Mmmghhn, what time is it?" Clarke mumbled as arms tightened around Anya's waist, nose trailing a brief path down to the crook of her neck.

"Doesn't matter. Go back to sleep if you're tired." She answered quietly, knowing she could stay where she was indefinitely, even if she could probably make good use of the bathroom.

Clarke's arms detached from her immediately, and the warmth of Clarke's body was gone in half a second, the other blonde scurrying away to the other side of the bed in a panic. Well, I guess that confirms she's still disgusted with me...

"You're not in pain, are you?" Clarke asked, thankfully bringing up a topic she could easily go on about if needed.

"Only slight aches now. Whatever that potion was, it's done wonders." Anya relayed, pulling the covers up over her body from where they'd fallen away. It was winter and, wards or not, the cottage was chilly. She didn't exactly have magic to keep her warm.

"That...that's good. Very good. Are you hungry?" Clarke asked, seeming abnormally scattered. She didn't have to put much thought into it, though, since the sound of Clarke's stomach rumbling was sign enough that one of them was.

"Not really, but you are." She said as she reluctantly got out of bed. "I'll wash up then make something to eat."

Clarke let out a loud huff. "You should be resting!"

"And you should be sleeping still, but I guess it's not in the cards, either." Anya called over her shoulder. By the time she finished in the washroom, Clarke still hadn't left the bedroom, which gave her plenty of space to figure out something to eat.

While she hadn't been Clarke's friend these past years, she did end up getting to know a number of things about the woman through Lexa and the time they were forced to spend near each other at events. Clarke had a deep love for gumbo, the spicier the better, but Anya didn't have the time or ingredients to make it, as she checked around. There was enough for her to make pizza about seven or eight times over, but not so much with gumbo.

But she did know Clarke was a fan of chicken and spicy things, so she went about collecting ingredients for an old southwest wrap recipe she used to make when she had a busier schedule and less time to cook. She wasn't big on spicy stuff after just waking up, so maybe she used an extra pan for her own recipe, but it was worth it.

"What smells heavenly?" She heard from the direction of the bathroom just around when she was finishing up with the wraps, filling Clarke's with some extra chicken before folding the ends.

"Food's up. Chicken wraps." Anya answered, plating both of theirs before taking hers to the living room couch. Mostly because there was a cozy blanket there, and a fireplace nearby if she chose to use it.

She was just getting comfortable under the large blanket when a freshly showered Clarke rounded the couch, plate in hand, and scooted in beside her. Sure, the blanket was large enough to cover the both of them, but Anya could hardly keep from pressing against the armrest, wanting to ensure Clarke had all the space she needed.

Anya could feel Clarke's eyes on her as they ate in silence, leaving her completely unsure what was coming next. She'd slept, gone to the washroom, and will have eaten. Nothing to excuse her from Clarke's presence that would likely come across as polite.

"Are you scared of me?" Anya found herself choking on her wrap once she processed Clarke's words, needing a moment to steady herself and take a drink of water before she could even consider a reply.

"No." It was the truth, though after a quick glance, she could tell Clarke wasn't so convinced.

"Then why did you move away from me? And you couldn't get out of the bedroom fast enough, and when I came into the kitchen to get food, you practically rushed to the couch. Like, I'd get it if you are, obviously, and it wouldn't be my place to tell you not to be." Clarke detailed, and okay, perhaps that interpretation made a bit more sense, but it wasn't fear driving it. Just a sense of self-preservation and not wanting to have any more of her ego destroyed.

"I'm not scared. I trust you when you say you won't willingly hurt me. I'm merely giving you your space, Clarke. You've made no secret in the past about not wanting to be near me." She explained at length, hoping to just finish the subject and move on to something else or maybe even a comfortable silence.

"But that was when I thought you nearly ruined my life, and were out to get me." Clarke noted, not really addressing the point at hand.

"Regardless, it still leaves all of that clear...disgust...you have for me. Just because I didn't do what you thought I did doesn't erase that gut instinct. I understood why you used the hot water bottle as a barrier, Clarke. I understood, and I appreciated what you did for me, but you don't have to pretend. I'd honestly prefer you don't." Anya rambled as she curled up further into the corner of the couch, wishing she could light a flame from a distance and get a fire going. There was rarely anything better than a warm fire on a cold night.

After a second or two of silence, she dared a glance back at Clarke, catching the other woman gaping at her, appearing entirely astonished for whatever reason. After all, it wasn't as if Clarke kept her emotions hidden.

She'd just turned away when she felt Clarke's hand lightly grasp her shoulder. Anya kept her gaze forward. "Anya, I've...goddess, I've never been disgusted by you. Take your pick from hate, loathe, whatever, but...not that."

"I know what I've seen, Clarke. You don't have to pretend we're working with clean slates in every area when we're not." Anya pushed, needing to have this topic of discussion done and over with. With the way her heart was thudding in her chest from just having Clarke's hand resting against her, she needed to avoid getting any hopes up.

"No, you don't...urgh!" Clarke blurted out, following her attempt at a denial with a long, drawn out groan. "Look, it's really embarrassing, but yeah, I was disgusted. With myself."

Anya's head swiveled unbidden to face the other woman, more out of confusion than anything else. "How does that make any sense?"

"I'd see you, and sometimes it wouldn't register that it was you initially, but then I'd recognize you, and I'd just...I'd disgust myself with how I reacted to seeing you. It wasn't right reacting to my enemy like that, someone who I thought hurt me so much. I figured I shouldn't have felt what I did, but I did, and I hated that. It disgusted me that as much as I hated you, it could never kill the part of me that thought you were..." Clarke rambled, voice trailing off as she stared at her hands, shaking them in the air and biting her lip in clear frustration for whatever word she couldn't seem to speak.

Still, Clarke had opened the door, broken the dam, whatever. She needed to know. "Thought I was what?"

Clarke's blue eyes flitted her way, a defeated sigh escaping her as her cheeks bloomed red. "Ithoughtyouweregorgeous." The woman spoke quickly and quietly, syllables mashed together in a near incomprehensible mess of sound.

It took a few seconds for Anya to make sense of it, but when it clicked, she was fairly certain her cheeks were equally as flushed. "Oh." She added, needing to give some response despite her confusion, seeing Clarke's nerves escalate visibly.

Honestly, it was hard to fathom that all that time, Clarke had been disgusted at feeling attraction towards her. It potentially made a small amount of sense, even if it took some mental gymnastics, but her shy eyes and anxious posture had Anya thinking Clarke was about a second away from imploding from a deadly mix of mortification and rejection, so she couldn't deny it might be the truth.

And honestly, with the truth thrown her way, especially given Clarke didn't have to disclose it, Anya felt a need to balance the scales. "I had the biggest crush on you, growing up." She continued, immediately feeling the intense heat of Clarke's gaze on her as she kept her focus on the fireplace. Anya wasn't sure she could speak the words face to face, but she could at least air them out. "Goddess, I tried to convince myself back then that it was a small thing, but my eyes would always look for you at the events for initiates. And when I was back home...I was a shit drawer, but when I'd sketch, I'd almost always end up doing your eyes. Never felt anyone really saw me, and I guess I just liked imagining...yeah."

Anya shook her head at the memories, at the sheer amount of paper she'd covered, crumpled up, and tossed out in her teens. She'd been the most embarrassing kid.

"Was...was that why you had me share your blankets that night?" Clarke asked hesitantly, the hand returning to Anya's shoulder and giving it a slight rub. It was nice.

"Of course not. You were freezing, you needed to be warm. Besides, I remember thinking you were dating someone back then, so my focus was just on keeping you warm, and maybe if I was lucky, we could end the weekend as friends. And then it turned into just wanting you to know I had your back, that you could trust me, that you were safe." Anya explained, putting to words her generally simple evolving plans that night, in case Clarke had any misunderstanding over her reasons. Sure, helping the pretty girl and maybe having a future shot at a relationship if everything went right and Clarke turned out not to be straight was something she'd considered back then, but she had known full well it was a pipe dream.

Anya was far more practical than that.

Clarke moved off the couch, gathering both of their plates and setting them on the coffee table before heading to the fireplace. Anya watched at the other blonde struggled a bit with the equipment stocked there, unable to hold back a smile at Clarke's unfamiliarity, but there was a fire going after a minute or two. Perhaps it was unsurprising that Clarke was thinking much the same thing as she had, given the temperature, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

It was Clarke slipping under the blanket and cuddling up beside her that had Anya feeling a little faint. "I guess it's my turn to return the favor and keep you warm, then." Clarke whispered as soft arms wrapped around Anya's nearest.

Anya wasn't sure what Clarke's angle was, and that was dangerous, but she couldn't bring herself to care when Clarke was warm, and soft, and smelled kind of wonderful.

"Sounds fair to me."

Clarke was a little proud of herself.

Between waking up clinging to Anya's wounded body, learning Anya thought she was disgusted of her, and learning Anya once had a deep crush on her, Clarke could say she'd been reeling for most of the past hour or so.

And yet, she hadn't lost it. Neither had she ran, or fucked up. Instead, she'd pushed forward, clarified problems, and worked to resolve them. In short, when it came to the prospects of leaving the cottage happy and with a new connection, there was hope for her yet.

The fact that Anya was much more relaxed was also riveting. It'd been ten months since she'd seen the woman with anything remotely resembling happiness or peacefulness across her face, and it was a damn beautiful sight. Not one she deserved, but one she would try to maintain for as long as possible.

"So, maybe you'll have to show me some of your sketches some day, see how they match up to the real thing." Clarke mused, breaking a comfortable silence in hopes of some stimulating dialogue.

The sound that escaped Anya was magical. Not since her childhood had she heard Anya laugh, and it sounded like the heavens opening up, but it was the gleeful, surprised smile that had Clarke utterly mesmerized. Maybe her crush had been deeper than she thought as well, because in that moment, all she wanted to do was keep Anya smiling as often as possible, for as long as possible, with some more laughter if she was lucky.

"Clarke, I told you, I'm shit at drawing. Nowhere near as talented as you on that front. Now, sculptures...that's different, but I was always terrible at sketching, even if I loved trying to replicate the blue of your eyes with my shitty pencil crayons. I was such a dork." Anya said, that smile dimming a little as she bit her lip and cast her gaze at the fire.

It was official: nervous Anya was endearing. It didn't hurt that the woman complimented her, either. It wasn't often anyone praised her art.

"More like adorkable. But I'd really like to see some of your scuptures if you'll let me. I'm sure they're great." Clarke probed, hoping for some affirmation, wanting a sign that maybe she and Anya were on the same page. Besides, Anya wielded the full power of the elements; she could only imagine the kind of nuanced control that could give a sculptor.

Anya let out another melodic laugh, and Clarke had to keep from sagging against her over the sweetness of the sound. "I think we could work out a time for you to come by." Anya added with a smile that was endearingly shy, and god, where was this woman all these years? "If we ever get out of this place, that is."

"Bathroom window was still warded. Guess there's still some condition for us to work through." Clarke noted with a roll of her eyes.

"Goddess, whatever Lexa and Costia concocted, I'm thankful, but they're gonna have some explaining to do when we get out of here." Anya agreed with a slow nod.

Anya's words stilled the thoughts in Clarke's mind, all of her brainpower focusing on a certain t-word. "What?! You're thankful? Even after everything?"

Anya turned her head and shot her the kind of smile you give when someone just asked a stupid question. The low, amused laugh made her inquiry even more worth it. "Especially after everything. I lost ten months of my life, Clarke, on top of so much more. I don't want to waste another second."

Clarke was sure her heart stopped for how silent everything went. Her mind was racing, working furiously determine if that was a sign, if it was an in, if it was a green light for her to test out something she'd been thinking about, to take the opportunity put out before her.

It was when her vision focused enough to see that same soft, warm expression on Anya's face as that night in the hotel that Clarke knew what she had to do.

Clarke flung herself onto Anya, hands lifting to cradle Anya's face as she pressed their lips together. For a split second, Clarke felt a debilitating spike of fear with Anya remaining still against her own. Then the heavens opened up alongside those supple lips, Anya grabbing at Clarke's top and pulling her down against her fellow witch's gloriously limber body.

In all her life she couldn't have imagined Anya would be so receptive. It was like playing a really arousing game of call and response; everything Clarke did, every kiss, every time she nibbled at the woman's lower lip, each time she rocked into her, each time she stroked her cheek, Anya would respond in kind with something of her own. Clarke knew what she was good at, and she wanted to give Anya the best she could offer, but Anya was clearly just as busy trying to learn what Clarke liked.

Her heart melted that much more, adoring that dedication.

And when her hips rocked into Anya, bringing an airy gasp from the woman beneath her, maybe Clarke decided to shift her focus on filling the room with more of those sounds. Anya only made it easier, head shifting to nuzzle Clarke's temple, lips a breath away from her ear, close enough to hear every gasp, hitched breath, moan, and whimper she could elicit. That combined with Anya running hands through her hair, nails down her back, palming at her ass, legs writhing against her own, body trembling and arching into Clarke's?

All she wanted was more, more, more of the intoxicating woman beneath her, and Anya was eager to give.

So when one of Anya's hands put a little space between them, Clarke wasn't discouraged, knowing whatever it was, it was important.

"I have some things I need...in my luggage...and I need a quick shower, and...and then can we take this to the bed where it's comfier?" Anya asked as she caught her breath. Honestly, the question was a bit out of the blue, but Clarke was all too happy to help out, even if it might mean waiting a few minutes.

"Sure thing, babe. Anything you need me to do?" Clarke asked, leaning back and letting Anya amble out from underneath her, head shaking lightly.

She took a moment to catch her breath and stared after Anya as the woman grabbed a set of luggage by the wall and hauled it into the bathroom. Honestly, it all felt fast, switching gears like they were, but the fact was that she spent about a full year with Anya as her sworn enemy and a primary focus for her attention. She probably knew Anya almost as well as Anya knew herself, and vice versa. 

They'd shared an intense connection since that night; perhaps it wasn't such a massive switch going from enemies to intimate. And finally being able to act on the physical attraction she'd harbored for years, on top of the emotional attraction to Anya and her softer side? Even if Clarke wasn't sure that part of the woman wouldn't disappear in a flash, never to be seen again?

She wasn't letting go of this, at least not easily.

Anya stood in front of the slightly foggy bathroom mirror, hands on the sink, letting her body cool down a bit to where she could think straight. It wasn't as if she hadn't had sex before, but this was bigger in some ways, and it was the first time she'd had a partner who seemed as into her as she was into them. It was the first time a partner didn't look to expect her to be the so-called 'dominant' one of the two, the 'aggressor', the 'top'.

Not that she couldn't pull it off somewhat convincingly if pushed to, she had in the past, but there had always been a large part of her that wanted to be able to let go completely, and she couldn't do that when she was completely taking care of a partner in a very specific way and performing a role they needed of her. She always had to keep some part of herself hidden away. Usually a major part.

Fact was, yeah, she was a warrior. She was one of the coven's primary weapons, and she'd bash skulls and use her powers to ruin any threat she came across, but when she got back home, she wanted to let go. With her powers, her role in the coven, she always had to be this pillar of strength, and being trans, she had to be bulletproof and fierce to hold her own and keep from bringing about another referendum on her womanhood.

It was tiring. She took care of her coven every day, she protected herself every day. It shouldn't have been too much to ask for someone to want to take care of her, to protect her, even if just sometimes. It shouldn't have been so hard for people to accept that she could be strong in some less traditional ways.

Costia always said being vulnerable, truly vulnerable and open in front of someone, was a show of incredible strength. Maybe it had taken six months of therapy and a being helplessly bedridden for two weeks to bring her around to the idea, but Anya believed it. She wanted to be strong like that for someone, where she wasn't forced to show that vulnerable side of herself, but instead could willingly trust it with another. She wanted to be with someone who could handle that kind of strength from her instead of wanting her to be something she wasn't.

Clarke, as unlikely a candidate as any, seemed up to the task. She seemed to want her for her, no masks, no roles, no fetishistic shit, but Anya just wanted to be sure. Thus, the breather.

"Okay...I can do this. Clarke's apparently always been attracted to me, and was only put off because she thought I leaked her secret.  And she's been nice and remorseful since we figured shit out...and I know I've always liked her, except for when she was trying to kill me and when I thought she was transphobic enough to out me. I know there's a risk, but is it wrong of me to want to give this a shot and see what comes of it?" She rambled to herself, taking a few deep breaths before shaking her head. "I hope it's not. I just want this to be okay. She likes me, I like her, and...and she already knows about me, so we're good. We're good. I can at least give this a chance. I deserve a chance at happiness."

Mind made up, Anya grabbed her things and made her way to the bedroom, brow furrowing as the sound of some sort of music met her ears from behind the closed door. Curious, Anya creaked open the door and peeked her head in, being met with the sight of Clarke sitting at the end of the densely towel-covered bed with a pile of pillows at her feet, soft tinkly nature music playing from the old speaker system.

"Clarke, may I come in?" She asked, prompting the woman at hand to shoot up from the bed, posture stiff and nervous.

"Of course, yeah, absolutely, come in!" Clarke let out at a rapid pace, her blushing clear even under the dim, candlelit conditions. "I, uh...I spruced the place up while you were gone."

Anya shot the other blonde a smile, even if it twisted a bit with her confusion as she took in the sight of spare water bottles stacked atop the dresser. "You didn't have to do that, Clarke."

"I wanted to. I know it's really fast, but I like you, and if you want to tone it down and go casual, or go slow, we can do that, too. I just...I wanted to try and make it special. Or as much as I can." Clarke explained, vocal pace slowing there at the end as the woman's gaze fell to the ground.

Anya was almost glad Clarke didn't see the utter shock she displayed at the words. "Special?" She asked, voice dropping to a whisper as she closed the distance to Clarke, enough to reach out and lift the woman's chin with the tips of her fingers. "You wanted to make it special? For me?"

It was unfathomable. Sex had never been very special for her in the past, and now it was her former nemesis taking the initiative to make their time together special. It was both absurd and heartwarming, and had Anya gravitating ever closer to the beautiful blonde before her.

Clarke let out a heavy breath and nodded, eyes still downcast and averted, even after Anya stroked a thumb across her cheek. "I don't understand it all. We go from enemies, to...something else...and my mind's been trying to figure out what you are to me, and every time I make a decision, it keeps telling me I'm wrong, that you're even more important, that I need to be closer. Until now. When I had you in my arms, I just...I knew that's exactly where I'd have to be for us to figure it out together...and I want to figure it out with you. And you deserve better than some quick screw on the couch, Anya."

Astonished, Anya stepped away from Clarke and made her way to the dresser to take in the candles. Some of them were scented, but it was lilac. She liked lilac. "And you think I deserve, what...romance?" She asked, baffled that Clarke jumped through hoops to set a mood for the both of them. It was entirely new territory for her.

"This? Not romance. It's a crude facsimile of it, but it was the best I could do in fifteen minutes with what I could find in the cabin. And the music's not romantic, but it...you know, I'll just go turn it off, actua..." Anya had been mesmerized by the other blonde's rambling up to the point where Clarke started towards the old iPod dock.

Her instincts kicked in quickly. "Clarke!" She yelled out, freezing the other woman in place. Feeling sheepish for yelling and maybe ruining the mood, Anya stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as she moved up beside the sound system. "Please don't."

"It's just music I use when I paint. I go out and into the woods and nature, and I see so many things, and take pictures and sketches that can't capture it, I need paint. But I can't paint out in the rough, so I come home, and I use this to get back into the feeling, the memories, and...I...I'm sorry it's not more romantic." Clarke finished her rambling with a sigh, head dipping in apparent defeat, contrasting heavily with the adoration blooming in Anya's chest.

"No, don't apologize. Clarke, I love it. It reminds me of simpler times, it's soothing...and it makes you remember your passions." Anya countered, trying to lift the other blonde's spirits, because it really had been a thoughtful touch.

Clarke's head lifted slightly, enough for the woman's sparkling sapphire blue eyes to peer at her through her lashes. "I don't think I'll need to draw on any of my passions if I have you here with me." Clarke murmured, stepping into Anya's space and wrapping arms around her waist. "So what did you have to go get?"

Anya swallowed hard and nodded, shifting back to reality, where everything could potentially fuck up again. "I don't get real wet, or at least it takes time for me to get really wet, so...all the rubbing and friction...it'd start to hurt more than anything soon enough, so I got some lubes. We don't have to use them, we don't have to do anything sexual, we don't..."

"Anya, babe..." Clarke interrupted, lifting a finger to Anya's lips, silencing her. "If you're not ready, that won't change anything for me. We can still be close. We can still figure this out. But if you're ready, then I'm on board. And I'd want you comfortable, and not hurting when we're trying to feel good. I like using lube, too, so it's not a problem for me. Do I need to know anything else?"

She let her eyes slip shut, adding the slightest pressure against Clarke's finger with her lips as she let herself be at ease. Clarke was mindful, and sweet, and showed all the signs that she wanted them both to enjoy each other. That was enough for Anya to push past the last of her major inner defenses.

"I don't stretch all that much. I'm working with a bit more than seven and a half inches of depth. If you're gonna penetrate with something other than your hand...so long as you ease me in, I'm good with most sizes, and if you want it rough anywhere, I'd prefer it be anal, please." Anya spoke once Clarke's finger vacated her lips. She felt a little self-conscious, never having had anyone ask about her sexual boundaries before, even if she usually ended up giving them uninvited. It was reassuring that Clarke took the initiative. "Past that, I really like kissing, my scalp is sensitive in the best of ways, and I'm like a dog...if you play with my stomach, I'll love you forever."

Honestly, she added that last bit in mostly due to nerves and anxiety kicking in, but the way Clarke smiled afterward had Anya feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

"What about you, Clarke? I want to make sure I don't do anything that could hurt you or make you uncomfortable." She added, wanting to make sure Clarke felt included and cared for as well.

Clarke let out a faint "oh", mouth practically a perfect circle before the other blonde gave a nod. "I'm, uh, pretty easy going. Receiving anal's a no-go for me, and my breasts are too sensitive to bite, especially around my nipples. And I need to take my meds before I fall asleep...and if this goes like I think it will, I'll want to fall asleep with you in my arms when we're finished, but I need to take my meds. I put them on the nightstand, I'm set for another dose in two hours, or maybe later if need be. I know they're my responsibility, but if you could help me out?"

"Of course, Clarke." She answered immediately, knowing how important keeping to a schedule was with medication. The last thing she wanted was for Clarke to end up in distress.

"And, uh...I guess maybe Costia saw something like this coming, because I checked under the bed for Lexa's candles, and right beside them was my toy box that I lent her a month ago. Not sure how I feel about them anticipating this, but...maybe it might be interesting?" Clarke asked, teetering her weight from one leg to the next, and back, clearly a bit nervous.

Honestly, outside of some little tricks Indra taught her to make, Anya used toys pretty often. "Can we take a look?"

Clarke ducked her head slightly, blushing hard again. "I...yeah, for sure. Just don't judge me or anything, okay?"

Wanting to try and break whatever anxious haze Clarke was knee-deep in, she took hold of the underside of Clarke's chin and pressed a lingering, chaste kiss to her lips, waiting until she could feel the tension release before stepping away and moving to the large box beside the bed.

It was a decent size, and apparently for good reason as she opened it up and took in the sight of Clarke's collection. Wow...ankle spreader, flogger, restraints...someone's into bdsm...ooh, cute paddle with heart indentations... Anya mused to herself before something big and shiny caught her eye.

As soon as she realized what it was, she picked it up to get a better look at it. "Ohhhh my g...okay, so that...that, uh, it's..." Clarke sputtered out, clearly worried about what Anya might think, for whatever reason.

As if it was the first time she'd ever seen a butt plug. "It'll definitely do. The fact that it's capped by a heart-shaped gem is a little precious, but maybe it's a nice break from my more utilitarian set back home." She interjected, allowing herself another moment of studying the cute gem before meeting Clarke's eyes, smiling at the relief there. "Clarke, I'm single. I have been for some time. I told you I like anal. It's not very comfortable using my hands directly for everything, so..."

"Okay, I get it, I'm an idiot." Clarke laughed, lighting her hands in mock surrender.

"Perhaps, but a moderately enchanting one at least." Anya threw the offhanded compliment out as she went to her luggage by the door and hauled it into a free corner, pulling out her lubes. "These should do nicely. The rest can wait for later."

Oddly enough, she didn't startle when Clarke's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, the other woman having approached silently. "So...later on, if I want to use a strap-on..."

Anya let out a low laugh and leaned into Clarke's body a little. "Please, if that's what you want, I'm happy to oblige. And don't be concerned about size, obviously...regardless of your choice, I'll be fine." She answered, holding up the steel plug in hopes of making her point from the circumference of it alone.

"Of course you will. I told you I wouldn't hurt you. I'll take good care of you." Clarke murmured, head dipping forward to plant a pair of kisses to the crook of her neck, only further searing those words into her heart, Anya deeply wanting that to be true.

The way Clarke's hands splayed out across her abs, the gentle press of the other blonde's frame into hers, the sweet kisses on her neck, it all had Anya feeling she could trust this.

That just maybe, she could be entirely free with Clarke.

Clarke was riding a bit of a high as she pressed kiss after fluttering kiss to Anya's neck and shoulders, not just to show her affection for the other woman, but to buy time to calm down a bit. Anya had taken a good long look into her little treasure chest and hadn't blinked or flinched. No, Anya just pulled out the way oversized booty-bling butt plug she'd been given as a gag gift by Octavia. And when she'd stammered out nervously, Anya had reassured her.

And that helped, but damn if she wasn't still working on getting her nerves under control. She wasn't quite sure how to handle Anya. On one hand, she'd never seen Anya so shy and soft, but on the other hand, the woman was still very certain with her words, and her body language had Clarke under the impression that the aggressive, powerful Anya was resting right beneath the surface, ready to pop out at any time.

And while that could be exciting, maybe it wasn't what she wanted tonight to be. She'd initiated so much of the pain sent Anya's way. She wanted to be the one to initiate the healing and to earn Anya's trust in recovering their connection.

Still, she had to be careful, and as much as she wanted to go overboard like she so often liked to, Clarke held that part of herself back as she brought her hands to Anya's jeans and unbuttoned them. "You good to get this started?" She asked softly, pressing another kiss to Anya's neck.

"I believe so." Anya mused openly, turning in Clarke's arms while pulling her top off. Clarke watched the woman back away and sit down on the end of the bed, hardly needing a second to pull off her jeans. Two, three seconds later, with Anya stark naked on the bed, Clarke was unashamed about the gay sweats her body was kicking into high gear.

"Goddess help me..." Clarke muttered to herself as she peeled her leggings off and threw her dress over her head and off to the side. Anya's eyes were wider as she refocused on the woman, and took that as a good sign, and maybe a cue to slow it down a wee bit for her partner's benefit, taking her time in reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.

Clarke rolled her neck and slowly, carefully pulled her bra free, and tossed it behind her as she stepped up to Anya, standing between the woman's legs. "Care to finish the job?"

Anya was peering up at her, breaths coming out a little heavy, cheeks dusted pink, pupils dilated slightly in arousal. Once upon a time, she dreamed of Anya staring up at her, remorseful and apologetic, but this was exponentially better. Anya wanted her, and she sure as hell wanted Anya; it was all she could do to contain her gasp when she felt the brown-eyed beauty hook her thumbs under her panties.

That gasp broke out into the bedroom air when soft lips kissed her belly, Anya using the momentary distraction to slide her underwear down enough for it to drop to the floor.

"Crafty..." Clarke mused, biting back a laugh at Anya's playfulness.

Anya just began crawling backward on the bed towards the headrest. "Couldn't resist. You've got a cute tummy, Clarke Griffin."

"Shut up, I work hard on it. Just because it's not chiseled like..." She started back, only for her words to still at the sight of Anya's hand and half-lidded eyes beckoning her closer.

 "You shut up. You're very kissable, Clarke. All over, I promise you." Anya murmured, eyes growing wider, hands gesturing a little more impatiently, even as a smile bloomed across her face. "Coming?"

Clarke laughed and crawled onto the bed, slowly crossing the distance. "You promise? Because this is all pretty new. Did you have a thing for me even back then, in the dark months?"

The dark months. Well, better to refer to it with a name than to just ignore it. "Clarke, I hated a lot of things, but it could never change how beautiful you are. If being around you didn't hurt so much, if your eyes weren't so cold when looking my way, I could have...anyways, I want you, Clarke. All that you'll share with me."

"You'll get me soon enough, Anya. For now, I want to share this..." Clarke noted, taking hold of the butt plug Anya picked out earlier, along with the woman's coconut oil, figuring it'd be better suited for anal than the water-based one. "Shall we begin?"

Clarke's mouth turned into the Sahara as she watched Anya's hips lift up, the woman practically folding in half as her feet rested at the sides of her head. "Ready when you are."

She fumbled a bit with the lube as she fought to get some moisture into her mouth. If grabbing a water bottle wouldn't have made her look foolish, she would have guzzled half of one back already. Clarke had not been prepared for how limber her partner was, not in the goddamn least.

Clarke was just coating the plug with oil when Anya cleared her throat, instantly capturing her attention.

"Clarke, I know I'm no stranger to this, but...please...be gentle." Anya's voiced trailed off to a mumble, but her sheer focus on the woman had her hearing every word as clear as day, leaving her confused as heck.

"I will. It's not like this is your first time, babe. But if that's what you want..." Clarke started, any additional words dying in her throat as she watched Anya's face flicker with something that looked too much like either fear or sadness for her to bear. She barely had the mind enough to cut off the lube supply before it started flooding onto the duvet.

"You promised you'd take care of me, so...it may as well be." Anya clarified after taking an agonizing few seconds to school her features, voice coming out flat and emotionless. No, distanced.

The last thing Clarke wanted was for Anya to feel she had to do that with her.

"Oh, hey, no...no, I didn't mean it like that, I just...Anya, please." She stated, cutting herself short when she realized none of her scatterbrained pleas were even registering.

Clarke set the oil and plug on the nightstand and shifted to the side of her partner, prodding Anya's legs enough for them to flop back onto the bed. She nestled up beside the woman, angling Anya's head until they were face to face. "You always intimidated me. You're so strong, in so many ways, and I honestly came in here thinking we'd be pulling some cheesy fan-fictiony thing with our tongues battling for dominance, and then that'd escalate given our histories, but like...Anya, I made a shit assumption, and that makes me a bit of an ass, but I want this to work. I feel we have something. So please, talk to me."

Anya blinked slowly and let out a quiet huff. "People always expect me to be this powerful, manly 'top'. Sometimes I'm okay enough to do that for them to an extent, if I'm desperate enough for someone to want me I suppose, but I'm never given the option to be anything other than a bunch of fetishistic stereotypes and fantasies. Just barely woman enough to count as one, and more than male enough for them to live their fantasies and shit through me. I just...I want to be free to be me. I want to be seen. People always want the dominant top they fantasize about, for me to essentially be the man they're not comfortable actually being with, so I'm the closest thing they can have and still get off to. I don't want to be some stand in for a cis dude, or the freakish masculine non-woman creature people sometimes think of me as...and it's gotten better since I had surgery, because no one can see me as a walking talking penis anymore, but...they still don't see me any different. I'm not a whole woman to them, not when they treat me like I'm male." Anya explained in heart-wrenching detail, the slightest tremor in her jaw stilling after a clear moment of focus. "They only ever want that. No one ever wants me."

Clarke was astounded with her willpower that she was able to make it through the entirety of Anya's explanation before pulling the woman into a kiss that channelled every ounce of power, every ounce of passion, every last goddamn bit of reassurance she could muster into it. The moment she shifted in position to get better leverage, Anya's legs were sweeping up and locking around her hips, pulling her down as Clarke kissed Anya into the mattress.

It wasn't fair. Even when Anya was her nemesis, she held disdain for those who pigeonholed Anya outside of womanhood, and she loathed anyone who only saw coven members as their roles, as their abilities. Anya was more than a warrior, more than her powerful body, and certainly wasn't the gross fetishistic and transmisogynstic male power fantasy wearing a woman-suit she imagined Anya's past sex partners wanted her to be. She'd be happy to take anyone who could look at Anya and fantasize about her as if she was a cis man, and throw them off a goddamn bridge in the depths of winter.

That didn't mean Clarke knew all the nooks and crannies of what made Anya who she was, at least not completely. No, she'd have to learn the hard way, by putting in the effort, by making Anya comfortable enough to show her. And damn it, she wanted nothing more in that moment.

"Goddess, Anya, I will take care of you if you let me have that honor. All I want is to be close to you, to make you feel good, and to figure out what's between us. You're safe with me." Clarke promised as soon as she pulled away, foreheads touching and noses grazing each other.

At this distance, she could see renewed faith in Anya's eyes, and felt a rush of fulfillment when the woman confirmed them. "I believe you."

Clarke took the plug and oil back in hand and waited for Anya to get back into position. "There we go, beautiful. Gonna take this nice and easy for you." She murmured as she made sure there was a nice coating of lube on the plug, and for good measure slowly pushed a nice-sized glob of it into her. "Ready?"

Anya let out an affirmative hum, and so for only the second time in her life, Clarke Griffin was inserting a butt plug. From personal experience, she knew going in too quick would just hurt, especially with something so big, so she took her time, slowly stretching Anya out minute by minute. One hand eased the plug in and out, a little deeper with each endeavor, while her other hand gently caressed Anya's hips, not wanting to waste any time she could be tactile, intermittently leaning forward to kiss the woman to help keep that connected feeling going.

She watched as Anya stretched more and more, halfway fearing it'd be too much and there'd be damage, but then all of a sudden the rest of it went in, and all that was left was a pretty red heart-shaped gem resting between Anya's ass cheeks.

"Mmmh, that's such a nice weight, holy shit." Anya let out, legs dropping back to her bed so she could roll over onto her stomach. "Oh wow, yeah, I'm gonna like this one."

Clarke was thrilled Anya was enjoying herself so much already, but her eyes were stuck on the sight of Anya's butt and how goddamn ridiculously cute it was. "Baby?" She asked hazily, gaze still fixed on that gleaming red heart peeking out ever so slightly. It took a moment for her brain to catch up enough to freak out, knowing pet names weren't exactly common so early on. Her mind was racing too fast to catch the pleased questioning hum from her partner. "Oh goddess, I...I'm sorry if I offended you, or if it's too fast, or..."

"Clarke." Anya called out firmly, cutting off all other thoughts as she turned her gaze upward, meeting Anya's as the woman peered over her shoulder. "Clarke, I'm here with you. I want you, awkwardness and all. If 'baby' is the only pet name that comes out from you tonight, I'll be all smiles. I honestly prefer it to most others I've been given, considering the circumstances."

"But it's not ideal." Clarke chimed in, catching Anya's drift that the woman was good with it, but it wasn't her top choice.

Anya rolled her eyes and tossed her hair back. "All the more preferred ones wouldn't be appropriate, we're not in love. So 'baby' will be just fine, Clarke. I'll tell you if I'm not comfortable with something...trust me to tell you, and trust that I'm good if I don't. Please don't think too hard, I accept you, quirks and all."

Clarke couldn't help but beam at Anya, thrilled at the reassurance and that familiar soft expression. Most of her past partners had balked at showing any vulnerability given her magical affinity, most held trust at arm's reach, but Anya was there offering it freely, without hesitation. Her mind kept assaulting her with a single word: Closer, closer, closer. She let that word reach her hand over to cup Anya's butt as she crawled up over the woman's body, pressing kisses up her spine along the way, cherishing the content hums escaping her partner.

"Let's get you warmed up, baby..."

Thirty minutes.

Anya wasn't entirely sure just how much time had passed since Clarke kissed her way up her back, but it had been at least thirty minutes.

She'd always been a bit of a slow starter, perhaps the fault of her meds, but no one had ever really cared before. No one had ever really made sure she was fully primed and ready to go in the past, for a number of reasons Anya didn't really care to think about. Clarke, though, was more than content to take her time and work Anya up, and it was both novel and reassuring, on top of goddamn sexy, that the other blonde was so patient.

Honestly, Anya felt like she'd halfway ascended, with Clarke nestled up at her side. From the feeling of Clarke gently rocking against her hips, to the hand that worked her nipples to crests of pleasure only to ease off the throttle with some delectable focus on her stomach, to the arm wrapped behind her neck, angling her in for kissing, Anya cherished the slow build up Clarke was working her over with.

And Anya, well, she was all too happy to guide Clarke's hips against her, and let her other hand roam wherever Clarke needed it.

At least, until Clarke's hips bucked a little erratically for the third time in less than a minute. "Clarke..." She spoke as she took in a breath, capturing the other woman's attention quickly. "My thigh, hand, or mouth? Your choice."

Clarke just grinned and pulled herself and Anya up to a seated position. "This is just me getting my engine revving too, babe, so I'll take your thigh for now. Though I could use your mouth somewhere else..."

Anya rolled her eyes and shifted Clarke halfway onto her lap so her partner was straddling her thigh. She was all too happy to oblige, bringing Clarke's right breast into her mouth as she took hold of her lover's hips, caressing and guiding them, feeling dizzy with pleasure.

In the past, it'd all been easy enough, just doing as expected and going by rote memorization on what her partners wanted, but there in that cabin, she was supremely far out of her usual position, her body was thrumming like never before, and she was increasingly intoxicated by every sound that escaped Clarke's body, by every otherworldly movement of her lover. Clarke had always been a passionate woman, but it was as if that passion overtook every fiber of her being, and it left Anya breathless with desire and anticipation.

"Oh goddess, right...right there!" Clarke moaned, arching backward to give Anya a better angle to work with, not that she wouldn't gladly suffer a neck kink to hear those words again. "C-close..."

Anya swirled her tongue around the nipple, letting her teeth graze it before she pulled away. If Clarke was going to climax, she wanted to watch it happen, watch the beautiful blonde unravel. Maybe that was selfish, but she'd make it up to Clarke soon.

"You're so beautiful..." The words escaped without her permission, but she could hardly will herself to care when a blissful smile spread across her lover's lips. Spurred on by the growing molten pit of arousal in her core, Anya reached up a hand to pull Clarke forward, close enough to kiss her, using her other hand to hold her lover by the small of her back. "Let go, darling."

All at once, Clarke's hips jumped up her thigh, Clarke let out a sharp gasp, and those sapphire eyes went wide as she'd ever seen them. Clarke's lips were on her before she could react, the woman's hips furiously grinding away at her as Clarke poured herself into Anya. She was all too happy to swallow her moans, to hold Clarke almost close enough for them to fuse; there was a fullness growing inside of her, warming her and rendering her nerves more and more electric the closer she grew to Clarke.

She'd never felt so naked and vulnerable in her life being used as an instrument of desire, but every press of lips, every stroke of her cheek, every hand that ran through her hair and pulled her close, it all told her that Clarke was the reason for it, that Clarke saw her, knew her.

That she was safe, in that moment, as Clarke's head fell back, a sharp cry escaping her mouth as her hips jolted against Anya. The climax rolled through her lover head to toe, all seizing muscles and soft cries as Anya held her close and slowly worked her through it.

It was a nurturing feeling, if Anya were to be honest, holding Clarke and aiding her through the orgasm, murmuring sweet words into her lover's ear, combing a hand through her hair, fluttering kisses against her face.

Sex had never felt like that before. Leading a partner to orgasm had never felt like that before. Her heart had never felt as full as when she felt Clarke in her arms, falling into climax and trusting her to hold her together. Her soul had never felt so light at the feeling of Clarke clinging to her like a lifeline, Anya's name the only word leaving her lover's lips for that brief minute or two.

If this was just a precursor, as Clarke asserted earlier, then Anya was entirely unprepared, but willing to have her mind blown, because if it meant more of these feelings, more closeness with Clarke, more delightful sounds and sensual touches, then she wasn't sure she'd ever leave the bed again.

"I'd almost feel...embarrassed that a...single goddamn word from you...could make me come, but..." Clarke spoke as she worked to catch her breath, Anya more than a little confused over what the beautiful blonde was going on about, but more than happy to give her time to speak her mind. "...but I swear, baby...I just really want you to call me that again. I don't care what it takes."

Anya leaned back enough to meet Clarke's gaze, trying to decipher the meaning of the woman's words. "You don't have to beg for anything with me, Clarke, but what word are...wait...'darling'?"

She watched Clarke visibly melt as the word filled the air, and knew that she couldn't deny it to her lover if she tried. "Definitely that one."

"Then it's yours, Clarke. And..." Anya started, only to remember the other thing she'd brought in her luggage that she'd considered bringing out if all went well. And despite it all being mostly foreplay so far, Anya was certain that it was right to offer her lover another option. "...and I have something for you."

Anya went to get up, but Clarke promptly threw her body weight at Anya and held her flat down on the mattress. "Easy there. I don't want you leaving this bed 'til you're satisfied. You got my motor purring, I can get whatever you need me to get."

With an amused roll of her eyes, she pointed to her luggage. "Wooden box in my luggage. Can you bring it to me?"

Clarke leaned down, meeting her in a languid kiss that had her heart soaring before her lover was rolling off the bed and striding to her luggage. Clarke didn't need long to recover it, plopping down beside her a few seconds later. "What's in it?" Her lover asked, looking at the featureless box for some way to open it.

Anya took hold of it and pressed a hidden spot on the box, unlocking it and cracking open the lid. She pulled out both items inside, the clear glass flask full of a translucent liquid, and the larger leather bag. "I was taught how to make this some time ago. I don't use it very often, but it can be wonderful. I want to share it with you."

Clarke looked over the two objects as Anya set the box on the floor at the end of the bed. "What is it?" The woman asked, tugging on Anya's arm until she clambered up onto Clarke's lap.

"The liquid in the flask was made with transmutation magic." Anya started, Clarke's attention immediately shifting away from the flask and to her eyes; that form was rare, so it was understandable that Clarke was intrigued. "Essentially, it's a very minor spell, which is why I can manage it despite not having an affinity. I suppose my abilities are close enough in alignment for me to be capable. But anyways, it alters the nerves of whatever it touches."

"How so? Like does it..." Clarke started, before her eyes grew wide as saucers. "No way."

Anya just laughed, lightly bonking her forehead against Clarke's and leaving it there. "Maybe this is heavy, but I've never felt like this before, Clarke. I've never felt so cared for in this sort of thing, and...all I know is that every bit of pleasure I feel, I'd like you to feel it with me. This can help with that...but only if you want to use it. I won't ask you to, or demand you to, or anything...I'm just offering."

"Baby, at this point, I think I'd wait as long as I had to for you, so if you think this could make us feel closer, and that's what I want...and that's what you want...then of course I will. You're kinda the best, okay?" Clarke asked rhetorically, but Anya couldn't quite manage to contain her scoff.

Clarke immediately pulled her into a kiss that had her feeling weightless and had those resurfaced insecurities running for cover, loving the way Clarke's nose nuzzled against her own ever so slightly as she pulled away to approach at another angle, adoring how the pads of Clarke's fingertips would gently trail down the curve of her jaw like she was drinking her in.

"Nothing but sweet sounds and confidence, okay? You're not the only one in uncharted waters, Anya. I haven't felt comfortable being in a relationship for a long time...it's all just been one night flings, and I just...I don't get that feeling here with you." Clarke stated, eyebrows rising as if to challenge her to deny that claim.

"This doesn't feel like a one night stand. This feels...more." Anya admitted with a hard swallow, finding some confidence in the way Clarke's smile just beamed up at her.

"Then believe me when I say you're the best I've had already. I've never felt this close to someone, and goddess, at the same time I just feel like there's so much more ground to cover between us, and I want us to cross it together." Clarke said, voice shaking ever so slightly as she took Anya's hand and placed it over her heart. Anya could feel the organ thrumming wildly in Clarke's ribcage. "I'm so excited, and scared, and over the moon happy, and I'm so ready for this as long as you're here to hold my hand."

Anya leaned close and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lover's lips, lingering there as she stroked a hand down Clarke's blushing cheek, and took Clarke's right hand with her other. "I am. I will."

"Then why don't you show me how to work this?"

As much as Clarke loved Anya's laughter, she couldn't help but keep her focus on her hand, marveling at the sensation even as she blushed from the sound that left her lips a mere few seconds ago.

"The look on your face is priceless, Clarke!" Anya added between laughs, and she honestly imagined it was, because there truly was nothing like feeling a jolt of arousal from rubbing your thumb and fingertips together.

It was one thing to imagine what it might be like, but an entirely different magnitude to feel it for real. "This is so weird. So...what did you use this for, again?"

"Mostly to ramp up quicker than usual. It can take me over half an hour to get going, normally, but with this, that time's cut down by a decent chunk. I'll put some on a finger or two, dip them in melted chocolate or maybe icing, and get to licking. But it can be nice if I'm fingering myself, too." Anya explained as she laid herself back on the bed, tugging Clarke to straddle her. This substance of hers opened the door to so many possibilities, a mass of them flooding Clarke's mind over how to use something like that.

Maybe it was a little egregious as far as a sex aid, but it did seem handy. Pun absolutely intended.

"Mmmmmn, and if I'm giving you a hand job?" Clarke asked, bringing their knit hands to her lips as she held Anya's mirthful gaze.

"Never experienced it. But I promise, you'll know how it feels when I do." Anya answered with a broad grin, bringing her leg up and using her heel to pull Clarke atop her, skin on skin. "And honestly? I've got a good feeling about it."

Clarke laughed and dipped down for a quick kiss, loving the way that Anya wrapped around her however she could. For such a fearsome warrior, she was damn adorable. "Don't let go?" She murmured as she pulled away. The tremendous warmth in Anya's eyes had her knowing her lover wouldn't fail her.

She took a deep breath, excited to get this started and to keep growing this thing between them. Carefully, she shifted to Anya's side, pressing fleeting kisses to her partner's jaw as she reached down, gave a quick glance to check her instincts, and then let her forefinger and middle finger slowly glide up Anya's slick folds.

By the time she'd neared the clitoris and rendered it exposed, Clarke was breathless, body buzzing and stunned from the sensation. Certainly a bit more sensitive than rubbing her fingers together, she'd have to get used to it. "Oh my goddess, babe..."

"Is it too much?" Anya asked, sounding worried. As if there was anything to worry about.

"Nah, not at all, just unexpected. Between this thing, and getting to feel you for the first time, I...I'm really excited, and I just need a moment." Clarke answered swiftly and with as much assurance as she could channel into her voice.

That seemed to be enough, tension leaving Anya's body. "Take your time, darling, I'm not going anywhere."

The use of the d-word only compelled Clarke to rub her thumb just around the edge of Anya's clit, cheering internally at the sight and feel of Anya's hips arching into her touch. "Maybe you're not going anywhere, but I'd really like you to come with me."

 Anya's head fell back with a dull thump against the mattress, another glorious laugh escaping her lover. "That's so fucking cheesy!"

"Don't lie, you like it." Clarke shot back with a grin, giving Anya's core one more quick swipe as she gathered as much oxygen as she could. Just the sensitivity of her fingers on Anya's vulva was doing a number on her, ratcheting her arousal up notch by notch with each touch. Something told her she wouldn't be too pleased with her stamina over the next little while.

Hopefully Anya wouldn't be too embarrassed for her.

Clarke reached for the lube, applying a bit to her fingers in prep of what she knew would be an entirely new experience for her.  Let it never be said Clarke Griffin was a coward.

"Clarke..." Anya's voice brought her attention to her lover, the sheer reverence making her heart tremble in her chest from the pure heat the word had cascading through her body. "I trust you."

Teeth firmly pressing against her lower lip, Clarke gave Anya a small nod and decided to go for it, plunging two fingers into Anya.

Clarke gasped alongside her lover, arching a little from the feeling of Anya's walls around her digits. For a brief moment, being engulfed in Anya, feeling very intimately and intensely every single muscle spasm against her fingers, even the hardness of the nearby butt plug, took her focus.

But just for a moment.

Clarke caught her breath, adjusted to expectations, and pulled out slowly, recalling Anya preferred a more sensual approach up front, and she was all too happy to employ that. Just feeling Anya wrap around her had Clarke wanting to be closer, as close as she could get. It was only made more fortunate, knowing that if the sensations from her hand kept up then she wouldn't be able to be upright; resting against Anya while she pleasured her was best for the both of them, and would give Anya plenty of access to her.

Clarke set a languid, steady pace, working her fingers at Anya's upper wall as her thumb rolled at the edge of her lover's clit, getting close enough to build her up, but not so much to jolt Anya towards an unexpectedly quick orgasm. She wanted to take her time, pulling Anya into a quick kiss before trailing her mouth across her jaw and down her neck, kissing and nipping and licking her way to Anya's pulse point.

Maybe it was just instinct, maybe it was that rare territorial side of herself coming out to play, maybe it was how the overwhelming pleasure from each thrust of her hand was slowly sending her into a blissful haze. Whatever the reason, some signals in her brain must have crossed because after nipping a delightful spot on Anya's neck and hearing her let out a delighted mewl, Clarke found her lips latching onto her neck and sucking for all she was worth.

The last time she'd given someone a hickey was in high school, so she could feel blood rushing to her cheeks as she hastily pulled away, words already at the tip of her tongue as her brain worked at formulating some apology. But then a hand was pressing at the back of her skull, pushing her face back into Anya's neck, a throaty whine rumbling out of her lover.

"Please...darling..." Anya spoke in gasps, her lover's hand shakily and slowly combing through her hair, adding enough pressure to let Clarke know she was wanted there, not that the words alone didn't immediately have her heart racing and body buzzing.

Clarke dipped  forward the half inch to press a kiss at the base of Anya's neck, letting her lips linger as she soaked in how Anya's legs gripped her tightly. She could feel a minor tremor of pleasure run through Anya's body from her neck all the way to her toes. "Tell me what you need, baby..." She murmured, slowing the pace of her thrusts enough so that she could be sure to recognize an answer past the heady pleasure buzz and the sensation of her arousal dripping onto the toweled bed.

"More of that...more...and faster, just...mmmnh...just a bit, please..." Anya laboured, stirring those long dormant and contained urges she'd always done well to hold in check.

Quickening the pace of her thrusts was easy enough, having mostly adjusted to the feeling of Anya's magic serum. She didn't have to keep herself from a premature climax anymore, at the very least, even if she was closing in on that ledge little by little. But indulging in something she'd warded herself off of had her feeling both enticed and cautious.

"Anya...pretty sure you can't magic away a hickey." Clarke noted hesitantly, applying just enough pressure to get Anya to release the hold on her head. She needed to look Anya in the eyes for this; even if it wasn't a big thing for most, she had a hard time stopping that particular sort of instinct once she'd gained enough headway. "Baby, I just don't want to do anything you'll regret later."

Her lover immediately reached down and stilled the hand between her thighs, and if Anya didn't already have her complete attention, she certainly had it now. "I'm not ashamed of this, Clarke."

Clarke let out a huff, anxiously trying to find the right words to describe her predicament, and mostly failing at her attempts. "It's...I mean...I know you're not, it's...well, a lot of people don't like them. And I mean....I'd be marking you. And I haven't done that in forever, because...well, once I start, I have a hard time stopping, and I don't want to freak you out with all the possessive junk that comes with it, and I'm just..."

Honestly, there were at least another hundred words left in her rambling, but feeling Anya take hold of the hand that Clarke had buried between her thighs, and slowly lift it out and up, up, all the way to her lips, a breath away from Anya's mouth? That killed all those leftover words, and she doubted she'd mourn their passing.

"Darling, hush. You're over-thinking this..." Anya started, eyebrow cocking at the tiny scoff that escaped her over the assertion. "I'm serious.  What, do you think I'd balk at the notion of you getting possessive over me?"

Clarke shrugged, not quite having revived her vocabulary yet. "Most people get freaked out, given my affinity and all. Last one really didn't like it, and practically threw me out."

"And I'm not that person. You need to stop second-guessing yourself, stop presuming you know what I want better than I do. Just listen to me, Clarke...I'll always let you know what I like and what I don't. And if you're comfortable being...well, possessive...with me tonight, then let's see where that goes. It's not a hard or soft limit for me." Anya clarified, the amused crinkling of her eyes just barely warning Clarke in time as Anya's soft tongue blazed a trail up her hand, sending an intense ripple of pleasure down her spine.

She was already soaked, but she could feel a fresh rush of arousal, both from the lick and the notion of Anya accepting her, not to mention the vulnerability involved. Still, she waited until she caught her breath again to make one final argument, to make sure Anya knew where she was coming from.

"I just...I guess you've been treated like an object by other partners, and I wouldn't want to do the same to you. You deserve better. You're a person. You're not something I can, you know, have or claim for myself." Clarke said, eyes half-lidded and head feeling hazy as Anya took one of her digits into her mouth, tongue swirling around it. "Goddess, if you keep doing that, I won't last long, baby."

"I don't care how long you last. One, two, twenty orgasms...whatever we feel like. I just want to spend the night with you, I want us to enjoy ourselves. So...if it makes it easier for you...as far as I'm concerned, I'm yours tonight. And you're mine. Doesn't mean you own me...just means I'm sharing myself with you. I trust you to take good care of me, darling." Anya spoke, flicking her gaze between Clarke's hand and her eyes, before settling on the latter. "And if you want to suck at my neck, if you want to say I'm yours, or any of that...I'm good with it. I'm not scared, I trust you."

Clarke gulped, heart hammering in her chest, yearning to break out and find Anya's. Ever since her affinity had been made known, everyone she'd dated had been wary and generally unwilling to be vulnerable with her. Even if she'd insist that she could only control people after casting, most still suspected that she could influence and manipulate thoughts and emotions on a more subtle level, so it was rare for anyone to be really open with her. It was why she adored her friendships with Lexa and Costia, who did trust her.

So Anya willingly opening up to her and trusting her? Wanting to share herself, even after everything they'd been through, even after experiencing firsthand what Clarke was capable of?  It had her breathless and yearning to just hold onto this magnificently strong woman. Everything in her soul was screaming at her to make love to Anya, to take her to such heights where Clarke's name would be the only intelligible sound spilling from her lips, to pepper kisses across her blushing face as she came down from her final climax, to wrap her up in the afterglow and maybe carry Anya to the shower if her lover needed or requested it.

And maybe that was getting ahead of herself, but it wasn't bad to have some goals at the ready for the rest of their night.

10 months later

Anya hated annual gatherings of the covens. They were always loud, busy, and far too political for her to stomach when all she wanted to do was enjoy the solstice. Attendance was generally mandatory, however, so having Lexa at her side was at least a small comfort.

Usually, Lexa would stay with her fiancée, but apparently Costia was staying elsewhere, leaving them to use Lexa's small cabin a few miles from the gathering site. It was a step up from a hotel, where she could run into those she butted heads with or who held ill will towards her.

After all, with her history, she didn't exactly have many friends.

"How long do I have to be present for, tomorrow?" Anya asked again, knowing the number, but just wanting another verbal confirmation. It helped when it wasn't just her running the numbers over and over again.

"Should only be five hours you'll have to stay for. Might reach seven, but unlikely, so long as Costia's schedule runs tightly." Lexa restated for about the fourteenth time since they started the road trip together. "With the grounds as large as they are, and your abilities, and the number of witches that will be there, there's no reason you'll have to encounter Clarke any longer than is absolutely necessary."

It would be a refreshing change after the last few events, like back in October where they'd literally brawled after having been stuck in the same area for a little under two hours. As much as she hated to admit, the other blonde had a mean left hook, and with the rest of her powers, her nemesis might one day get the better of her.

"Good. The last thing anyone needs is me putting her up in flames instead of burning her with my wit." Anya admitted, knowing that as much as the idea could seem palatable on rare occasions of severe frustration or hardship, it'd end up with her exile from the coven, and blood on her hands. Clarke certainly wouldn't appreciate dying, and Lexa would lose a friend in the woman as well, as unlikely and upsetting as that friendship was.

Kicking every square inch of Clarke's perfectly round ass after another potential attempt to poison her? Fine. Killing her? Not so much. With how things were escalating between them, Anya wasn't sure their next blow-up wouldn't end with someone being maimed. If things got much worse, they could both eventually get killed. And like hell if she'd come up on the losing end of that, but it'd be terrible anyways, regardless of her feelings.

Not that she still had feelings for Clarke that weren't involved with the vitriolic fury she felt for the woman. That would be absurd. Ridiculous. Masochistic, perhaps.

"Don't be so dramatic, Anya, it doesn't suit you." Lexa snarked from the driver's seat. "Besides, violence is the last thing we need between you both. It's long since gotten ridiculous, and I know you don't like fighting with her."

"I've told you before, I didn't start the fire." Anya insisted, making the executive decision to ignore Lexa's quip about her past feelings for the woman. Key word being 'past'. Sure, she hated fighting with Clarke, it brought up memories she wanted to forget, and she much preferred fighting people who were putting humanity at risk, not some aggravating blonde from her coven who she was supposed to protect, if anything.

Sure, she could appreciate how Clarke's hair always looked perfect, how every time Clarke laughed her eyes got as warm as a summer afternoon, and how the sheer sound of the woman's laughter could have her heart blooming with fondness. She could appreciate that Clarke was creatively diplomatic even without using her affinity, striking a keen balance between kind and ruthless that was remarkably efficient, and showed off the woman's clear intelligence and wit. She could appreciate a lot of things about Clarke, but it didn't change that the woman almost killed her, literally, and that kind of put a damper on any feelings she might have hypothetically had for her.

So perhaps she didn't like fighting with Clarke, but it wasn't like she could just let her guard down and allow Clarke to kill her. Anya wouldn't roll over and die just because Clarke Griffin desired it.

Her words earned a quick, heavy sigh from her cousin. "Please don't start in with the musical puns. You know I can't handle them." Lexa said, helping Anya realize that she almost made a Billy Joel pun without thinking about it. She was almost proud of herself.

"Shut up, you love it." Anya was about to throw out another pun when they made their way into a small clearing, a cottage nestled in at the edge of the tree line.

Lexa slowed and pulled into the short driveway, stopping just shy of the front porch. As soon as Anya had the door open, Lexa's cell rang. Her cousin lifted a finger and took the call as Anya stepped out, waiting for the other woman to finish up, Lexa only letting out mumbled words and tiny sighs. If Anya had to guess, something wasn't going to plan with the gathering's prep.

Lexa pocketed her phone with a huff, staring hard at the wheel for a moment before flitting those green eyes' Anya's way. "Nia Frost sabotaged the herbs for tomorrow morning's ritual. I'm going to have to travel back to Costia's storage shed to grab replacements for what they couldn't salvage."

Nia Frost was a royal pain in their asses, constantly sabotaging gatherings and other events in hopes that enough instability would shift favor for her to call for a vote and use her reputation and history on the council to unseat Lexa as the head of the coven.

Sure, it'd never happen, but it made just about every major event a damn nuisance to manage. "You want me to come with?"

"Nah. Stay here. I shouldn't be more than two hours." Lexa offered with a flick of her wrist. "Get food started, I know you're hungry, and I made sure to stock up."

Anya didn't need to be told twice, her stomach having been rumbling for the past half hour.

The cottage was small, with an open concept kitchen-slash-living room, along with a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Just cozy enough to be her style without feeling too cramped for two people.

She quickly dropped her bags by the living room couch and made her way to the kitchen to get a handle on what kind of food they had on hand. It only took a moment for her to decide to make a pizza bread bowl.

Nothing wrong with getting the weekend off to a tasty start.

"I'm really looking forward to this. God, it's been what, four months since we've had a weekend alone together?" Clarke asked, watching the trees blur by. "I mean, you know I love Lexa, but it's nice to just have some one on one time with you, Costia."

"I feel that, I've missed hanging out with you too, Clarke. It'll be nice to finally catch up." Costia answered, smiling at the incoming text on her HUD telling her that Lexa just dropped off the necessary herbs. "And really, I think Lexa and Anya needed some time alone this weekend. Anya hasn't been in a good place for a while."

"When has she ever? She's always been a frosty bitch. Even as a kid." Clarke shot back, instincts not quite reaching the better part of her brain fast enough to cut off her words. "You know what I mean, she only ever hung out with Lexa as a kid. And no one liked her pert little butt when she came around again. I don't even know why she stuck here after the whole vote debacle."

Costia's sigh was predictable. Honestly, the woman had a heart of gold and the patience of a saint. That was the only rational explanation for Costia's soft spot for Anya. "I know you hate her, Clarke, but she's had a raw deal."

"You know people can hate her for good reason, not because of what she is. Deep down, she's not a good person, she's not trustworthy. You reap what you sow." Clarke argued, sinking back into her seat, trying to ignore that tiny part of her brain that help whispering that she was wrong, trying to slow her breathing and control her temper. Costia hated when she got angry, and while Anya was a point of fury for her, the least she could do for her friend was remain mostly calm.

"I've told you before about my thoughts. That hasn't changed. All I can hope is that you two don't nearly kill yourselves this weekend." Costia stated rather diplomatically.

Clarke grumbled and stared back out the window, knowing she probably looked petulant, but not quite caring when it was all she could do to contain her emotions at her recollection of the gathering in late October. "She threw the first punch last time around."

"Because you poisoned her drink." Her friend shot back easily, only adding fuel to the fire that her memory brought back.

"Because she soaked and froze my cowl!"

"That was a full four hours before she arrived."

"So you say, but you don't know, because she arrived alone in October."

"You know Ontari does that to people all the time. She did it to me last year as a simple prank."

Clarke let out a huff and reached across the median to grab at Costia's arm. "Look, we're only going to get upset, so let's change the subject. What are we having for dinner?"

Costia let out a hard laugh. "We'll just wait and see what we've got, honestly. Lexa did the grocery shopping for us, so who even knows with her, especially at this time of the year?"

Just hearing about grocery shopping had her stomach growling. She supposed that was the price of not eating for over half a day. Clarke was about to whine about having to wait when they found their way out of the forest, slowing as they made their way up a curved driveway, stopping at the front porch.

The moment Costia shifted the SUV into park, the woman's phone went off. Clarke kept her gaze on her friend as Costia pulled her phone free and answered the call.

"Hey, Lexa, what's...oh...she what? She did WHAT?! I...oh cheese and crackers, okay...okay, yeah. We just got here so I can...yeah. Convene the council, yeah, we can finally cut her off. I know...I know...it'll be okay. I will. See you soon." Costia spoke, giving Clarke the distinct feeling that Nia Frost did something again, if not by her words then the sheer frustration and exhaustion written across Costia's face.

"What happened?" Clarke asked, patiently waiting as Costia gathered her thoughts.

"Nia Frost set fire to some of the coven's artifacts, and some of her supposed acolytes attacked a few new initiates to the coven. We're convening the council to pass judgment on her." Costia let out, following her words with a heavy sigh as she glanced at Clarke apologetically. "I have to go do this, but I promise I'll be back in two, three hours. Is that okay?"

Clarke rolled her eyes and pulled Costia into a hug. "Of course it is. We have a shot at finally being rid of that devil woman. Finish up over there, I'll have something for you to eat when you get back."

"You're a life saver, Clarke. I'll see you soon." Her friend called out as Clarke exited the vehicle and shut the passenger door. She waved Costia off as the SUV reversed out of the driveway and headed back into the forest.

As soon as it was out of sight, she headed up to the cottage and let herself in, shutting the door behind her. Clarke was just finishing taking off her boots when it registered that she could hear footsteps heading her way, no attempt to mask their sound by the owner.

"Hey, I didn't hear you pull up. How'd it go with the..." Anya spoke, freezing on the spot as she rounded the corner and came into view, Clarke already having stilled at the sound of her enemy's voice.

It was that little bit of extra notice that had her tossing down one of her spell-bombs full of the ingredients to cast her usual hex, boosting her affinity to where she could take on a fellow witch with any sort of advantage. She was just reaching towards Anya when the woman lifted a slender hand, palm up, the same motion she used to channel heat into a fireball.

Except there was no fire a half second later, or a full second later, or two seconds later, regardless of Anya's incantations. Not wanting to miss the opportunity that was being handed to her, Clarke put all her focus on Anya and channeled her abilities. "Do not move except for breathing and blinking, Anya."

Clarke waited a few seconds to gauge if her spell worked, the woman still and silent at the entrance to the kitchen. Cautiously, she approached, stepping into her nemesis' personal space, raising a hand to the woman's cheeks. Soft, freshly moisturized...lovely...she thought aimlessly, before snapping her focus back into place. All the better to slap... She corrected, giving the woman's cheeks a few light smacks.

Not even a flinch.

The laughter that escaped her was unbidden, but it was hard to care when, for whatever reason, Anya was powerless, and she had full control, at least until her spell wore off. It wasn't even her birthday for another three weeks.

Clarke stepped past Anya as she finally began to register the glorious smells coming from the kitchen, now that her fear was fading. She crouched in front of the oven and stared in through the small window at the food being prepped. "Oh goddess, I haven't had pizza in months. You shouldn't have."

It took a moment for it all to sink in, but Clarke rose from her knees and turned towards Anya. "You thought you were staying here with Lexa. I thought I was staying with Costia." She spoke as she put together her thoughts, trying to figure out what was going on. Clarke looked around and found a window in the kitchen. As she suspected, as she pulled at it, there was no opening it. It only took a few seconds to check the front door, the slab of wood not budging in the least. They were warded in, clearly Costia's doing. "Well...I guess it'll be the two of us for a while. Just like old times, huh?"

She shoulder-checked Anya on her way back to the kitchen. Without any control over her body, the woman tumbled sharply to the ground in a heap. "You didn't mind the floor back then. I'm sure you'll get comfy down there, Anya." Clarke added as she checked the timer for the pizza. Four minutes. "I don't know why they set us up like this, but them cutting off your powers and allowing me mine? Looks like your cousin finally chose a side. I don't blame her."

After all, Clarke wasn’t the one who had nearly torn the coven in half almost a full year ago. It wasn't Clarke who was so malicious as to disclose a very personal secret about another witch in the coven just to start drama and try to get a leg up, harming that witch's reputation almost irreparably.

Anya only had herself to blame.

And Clarke? Well, she had a feeling she was going to have a decent evening.

Anya lay crumpled on the hardwood floors, nose pressed uncomfortably against the ground from the awkward distribution of weight after she'd fallen. She'd maybe feel a bit humiliated if her heart wasn't already completely full of anger.

There were far too many things to be angry about to feel humiliated.

"Oh my goddess, this is delicious. Maybe you have one redeeming quality, I'll give you that." Clarke moaned, clearly enjoying the pizza bread bowl Anya had been looking forward to. It was agony knowing Clarke was enjoying the food she'd made for herself and Lexa.

It was agony knowing she was stuck in the cottage with Clarke, some harebrained plan of Lexa and Costia's for whatever reason. It was agony that she was powerless while Clarke could flaunt her abilities freely.

It was agony not knowing how to exit the situation. It was agony knowing that she was at Clarke's mercy.

Hell, it was agony how appealing Clarke's voice alone could be if she wasn't paying attention to the sheer hatred it directed at her.

And all of that agony only made Anya angrier and angrier, seething with a colossal fury that lay roiling under her placid exterior.

"Don't worry, I'll leave you leftovers for when you're feeling up to eating. Maybe I'll even set you up on the couch since the second bedroom is warded off." Clarke snarked, footsteps trailing into the living room area. "By now you must be feeling betrayed. I know I would."

Anya slowed her blink and tried to focus as she fought to will herself out of Clarke's control. It was all for naught, but Clarke only had so many pre-prepped little spell orb things. Probably only enough to last a day or maybe a little more. Patience had never been Anya's greatest virtue, but this time around, she'd make it work.

And sure, betrayal was something that had crossed her mind, but she knew Lexa. Lexa wouldn't do that. Lexa wouldn't send her to her death. Lexa wouldn't choose Clarke over family.

So no, she didn't feel betrayed by Lexa. Not that she could relay that to Clarke and interrupt the girl's monologue. There was a reason for everything, she just didn't understand it all yet. "See, I know the feeling. It's like a poison, burning through your stomach lining and up your esophagus, bleeding out to corrode your lungs and heart while it steals your words, until there's nothing but tears and anger left." Her nemesis continued with more than a little bite in her tone.

If she had the power to roll her eyes, she would have. After all, what did Clarke know about betrayal?  The woman was a well-loved and immensely beautiful prodigy with rare abilities that the coven coveted. Clarke was practically bred for power, only suffering a minor stumble or two en route to where she was now.

Clarke wasn't the one who had been betrayed by someone she thought could be a friend, leading to a landmark vote that would have exiled her had Lexa not made a number of political promises to ensure a majority ruling in Anya's favor. Clarke wasn't the one who was openly betrayed by about half of her coven. Clarke wasn't the one who had her womanhood and connection to the Goddess attacked and doubted.

Whatever Clarke knew about betrayal, the other blonde was still to blame for Anya's hardships. She was still the reason why Anya was no longer well accepted in the coven, and probably never would be.

"I figure I'll let you stew on that. But there's plenty of night ahead of us. Don't get too comfortable down there." Clarke called out, making Anya hope that she'd be out of the other woman's control sooner rather than later. She'd just need to be smart about it when she did.

Hopefully, when opportunity came calling, she'd be able to take advantage. Otherwise, she was well and truly fucked.

All things considered, pizza really did make everything better. She was trapped in an enclosed space with her nemesis, all her history right up in her face, not sure when she'd be free. But damn if the pizza wasn't tasty enough to bring a smile to her face even in the worst of times.

At least she could low-key torment Anya, though. Being friends with Lexa had a lot of perks on top of the woman being a wonderful individual, but it gave a glimpse into their coven leader's relationships, including some pet peeves. Learning that Anya hated Costia's favourite guilty pleasure, One Tree Hill, was something that had pretty easily embedded itself into her long term memory.

And besides, while it was arguably the most heterosexual show she'd watched in years, it was a little comically outdated, and had some cute actors and actresses. So marathoning it while enjoying Anya's pizza was a nice little twist.

"I didn't know you could shoot pool."

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"The writing on this show is so cheesy, don't you think, Anya?" Clarke asked taking another bite of a long cooled off slice of the pizza bowl. "Always pushing for cliffhangers and manufacturing drama out of the blue. Creating this big love triangle between Lucas, his brother, and Peyton, and resolving it, only to start one with him, Peyton, and this other chick. Brooke, I think. Honestly, I understand why you hate it so much...but I kind of still want to know what happens."

"Like what?"

"Like...I love it in the summer when there's heat lightning at night..."

Clarke turned enough to peer over the couch at the heap of Anya's body a few feet away, eyes maybe lingering on how Anya's ass was raised into the air a little from the way she'd fallen. "You could probably do that on a good day, couldn't you? With those fancy elemental spells of yours?" Clarke asked, letting out a laugh at the thought of Anya's eyes going white like Storm from X-Men. "You'd probably rather spend your energy trying to strike me down instead."

There was a time when Clarke thought differently of her nemesis. When she'd actually thought Anya was good enough to have even a shred of empathy. "You know, I think this is the first time I've had you trapped and silent for any real length of time. Gotta say it's a nice change of pace."

Clarke paused the show and rotated around to peer straight out at Anya, or at least her lump of a body. "Usually we're arguing or fighting, throwing punches, all that stuff. Maybe this could be useful." She started, taking a sip of her water before continuing. "See, I've wracked my brain for ages, and I still don't understand why you hated me enough to do what you did. Did you know what you'd find when you called me over, or were you just looking for weaknesses that night?"

Clarke set her drink down and propped herself up on her elbows on the couch backrest. "Because I really was freezing cold that night. I was scared of what would happen either way, and the c...this girl waves me over, convinces me to share her blankets, warms me up...literally." Clarke continued, knowing she was making herself vulnerable by speaking in such detail, but maybe some closure would help. Maybe finally talking about the elephant in the room would help.  Anya not being able to interrupt her or argue back did make it easier. "You amazed me that night. The girl who was always cold and abrasive to everyone was sweet with me. Stared up so softly at me, with so much warmth. Showed so much patience. And despite all the alarm bells ringing in my head, I wanted to believe I'd found someone who could be safe. Who I wouldn't have to be worried about. Who I could completely let in one day, for once in my life."

Clarke rubbed at her eyes, all those old emotions suddenly so fresh, vibrant enough to bring on a swell of tears. "But it was all an act for you. I didn't think anyone could be so heartless to fake all of that so well, with such ruthlessness and..."

"...up shut up shut..." The low sound of mumbling from across the room had her voice catching in her throat and her hand reaching for another of her orbs. "Shit...body's stiff as hell. But seriously, shut the fuck up about that night. You know nothing." Anya bit out as she very slowly rolled onto her back, tongue wetting her lips as she winced in pain.

Whether it was Anya finally breaking through her control after a few long hours, or the woman refusing to take responsibility for what she did, Clarke suddenly found her heart racing and adrenaline pumping, a ten month old fury coursing through her veins. She was off the couch in a second.

The first kick to Anya's midsection wasn't nearly satisfying enough despite sending her nemesis groaning and physically reeling. "I know everything, Anya! I always have, so what exactly is it that you're hiding from, huh?" She asked, glaring down at her nemesis as she swung her leg hard at Anya, the woman just barely rolling out of the way enough to minimize the impact. "Make a miscalculation? Use the wrong person as a stepping stool to power?"

Clarke took hold of Anya's jacket from the back and barreled her into the kitchen island with a heavy crash. With all of the furniture apparently protected by Costia's wards, Anya's head and shoulder collided with a surface with zero percent give, the impact bringing a sharp cry of pain from her nemesis' throat.

"How could you? I was scared, and vulnerable, and you just saw a damned mark!" Clarke yelled, lifting her gaze to the ceiling, unable to look at Anya for fear that she'd go even further off the handle than she already was. "How could you tell everyone about my sexsomnia after you promised?! You promised me! You were the first person to tell me it wasn't my fault! That I wasn't disgusting or wrong! And it was all a lie! Seven months of taunts and slut shaming and for what?! Did you and your friends get a good laugh in? 'Poor Clarke, the coven's sl...'"

Suddenly, she was stumbling and falling backwards, head bouncing off the cupboard under the sink. She'd been too busy verbally railing on Anya to realize the woman had angled her body to go on the attack. Knowing the combat prowess of her nemesis, Clarke braced for impact, raising her arms to cover her head, but one, two, three seconds passed without an attack.

Clarke lowered her hands quickly enough to watch Anya stagger off towards the bedroom. It was the first time in her history of knowing Anya that she'd seen the woman do anything resembling a retreat.

"Anya! Anya come back here! We're not done!" Clarke yelled out as she got to her feet and chased after her nemesis, just reaching the bedroom doorway as the lock slipped into place. Not thinking, she pounded at the door, immediately recoiling her hand in pain from how hard and unforgiving the surface was. "Anya, you know if I want to, I can make you open this door!"

Clarke felt like she was standing on the edge of a knife as she waited for a response; for the door to open, for Anya to yell back, anything.

There was something happening on the other side of the door, she could hear a small, muffled sound, but she couldn't make out what it was. "Anya, come out here or let me in, your choice."

Clarke heard three dull thumps and then a long stretch of silence. She was breathless in anticipation, waiting, waiting, waiting, until the click of the lock disengaged. Clarke wasn't sure why she hesitated, hand shaking over the handle of the door for a moment before she turned and pushed it open.

There were a lot of things she expected to see when she opened the door. Hell, she maybe expected a punch or a kick, or even Anya rushing to tackle her to the ground.

Anya standing a few feet away, looking ready to go to war with a kitchen knife in her hand immediately had Clarke reaching for one of her spell orbs, but she found her hand hovering over it when she caught Anya's gaze.

Anya's flat expression hardly concealed the anguish in her eyes. As ready as Anya looked for a fight on a physical level, barring the dropped wounded shoulder and limply hanging bad arm of course, Clarke knew that when the fight left an opponent's eyes, it was over.

That left a pressing question: what the hell happened between the kitchen and the woman escaping into the bedroom?

Ten months.

All Anya could see when she looked into Clarke's wary blue eyes was nearly a year of misplaced aggression. Nearly a year of pain and sorrow that should have been avoided. Ten months entirely wasted because it was a complete mistake they'd been manipulated into. Almost a lethal one.

For ten months, Anya had wondered what had made Clarke snap and try relentlessly to ruin her life, and to learn what it was all about had her realizing that she wasn't who Clarke wanted to hurt, but she'd been hurt anyways. She'd lost time, energy, health, and a budding friendship.

She'd been a proxy for all the pain and suffering someone else deserved to feel, and as much as Clarke had wounded her, Anya understood betrayal. And Anya understood that with every second that passed, Clarke would come to intimately understand the truth of it all.

It didn't erase the past, and it didn't erase any of the trauma and isolation Anya had suffered across the past year, but she finally had some context. And finally, she might get some of her own answers. She chose, for the moment, to focus on whoever was responsible, even if she didn't have a name for them yet, because it almost certainly wasn't Clarke.  Just the way the woman spoke about her younger self had her feeling decently confident about that.

But even with all of that in mind, Clarke had always been a wildcard, so she had to be ready for a fight if it came. And if Clarke decided to use her power, then at least she would have gotten a hit in.

"What are you waiting for? Where's the fire from October?!" Clarke yelled, voice shaking as she took a step forward.

Anya waited until she was free enough from pain to speak steadily, keeping her breaths shallow to help ease the load on her ribs, knowing they were bruised at least. "I have honor, Clarke. I have never disclosed a secret in my life."

"Honor?!" Clarke blurted out with a hard laugh. "You punched me out of the blue last year!"

"You poisoned me. Made an attempt on my life. I was defending myself." Anya let out slowly before dropping the knife. It was getting a little heavy, and she had no use for it anyways.

Apparently, that was the wrong move, Clarke quickly dropping one of her orbs to the ground, shattering it and taking in the resulting fumes. "Pick up the knife, Anya."

Against her will, she felt her body move to a kneel and grab the knife. "Clarke, you aren't an imbecile, you..."

"Put it half an inch from your carotid. Keep it there." Clarke ordered, her good arm doing as it was told just as Anya willed herself back to her feet. "Don't come any closer."

"Wasn't planning to." A tired grunt escaped her as she slumped down onto the bed, feeling nearly all her energy leave her. "Real enemy's out there. Can't keep doing this."

"It couldn't be anyone else, Anya, you were the only one I..." Clarke insisted fervently, but Anya couldn't hear it. She couldn't take the vitriol being aimed at the girl she was a year ago, so full of hope and yearning for connection. Whoever or whatever she was now, her younger self was innocent and deserved better.

"Please don't..." Anya interjected, letting out a sigh before meeting Clarke's gaze again, stilling the advancing blonde in her tracks. "Don't talk about back then. I would never have...just don't."

Clarke shook her head angrily, even if a shaky hand went to run itself through blonde hair. "No, no, it had to be you, it had to be!"

"Clarke, I would never have hurt you. It was my duty to take care of you, I would never break that oath unless I was defending myself." She let out slowly and carefully, staring up at glossy panicked eyes. Eyes that only grew wider at her words. Goddess, why do her eyes have to be so damn pretty?

"No, you don't understand! If it wasn't you, then...then I've been hurting you for no reason! For...fuck, for almost a year, Anya!" Clarke yelled, tears of her own spilling down her cheeks as Anya swallowed hard and nodded. "If not you, then who was it?!"

Anya let out a tired huff and flopped backward onto the bed. "Pretty sure I'm concussed, Clarke. It stings when I breathe. Don't ask me to think right now." She shot back slowly, taking another painful swallow. "Someone would have had to have...have hearing abilities. Or...had to be invisible. Dunno."

"No one in the coven has any abilities or spells that enhance hearing, that's rare. And no...wait..." Clarke's rapid words stilled, violently catching in the blonde's throat, sending Clarke physically reeling backwards into a dresser. "Oh god, Echo..."

Anya's brain wasn't working at optimal capacity, needing an extra second or two, but she remembered the gangly girl with the dark circles under her eyes. A bit of a loner, later Nia Frost's acquaintance. Sort of creepy, the woman was mostly assigned work outside of their region. Anya had assumed it was diplomatic, to improve Echo's social skills as she'd had to endure herself once upon a time at her old coven, but they could have been more focused on subterfuge.  She thought she recalled that Echo could essentially teleport, but if it was actually the woman going invisible then there was a very different story playing out.

"Echo was in the bed closest to us. If she heard something and got up...and...oh goddess..." Clarke spoke, hand lifting to cover her mouth as her eyes glistened. Anya could sense Clarke reaching out to touch her before the other blonde moved a muscle.

"Don't touch me." Anya bit out as Clarke's hand descended towards her thigh. "All I need is...is an honest answer. To one question. I need you to think...really hard about it. Take your time and think back."

She stared up at Clarke, who, while entirely panicked and frazzles and practically emanating guilt and remorse, nodded along easily. "I'm ready."

"Did you out me?" She asked, ignoring Clarke's instinctual gasp and pushing past it. "Did...did you say anything that could have...maybe let someone suspect I was trans?"

Clarke just stared down at her, teary-eyed and mouth agape, as if she'd accused the woman of something monstrous. Well, sure, perhaps she halfway did, but if her question was filling in the blanks that Clarke's comments from earlier had with her, then maybe they were finally getting somewhere.

"Anya, I'm bi." Clarke stated sharply, as if that meant anything. She just raised an eyebrow at her fellow witch. "I would never out someone who shared something like that with me! How could you even think that?!"

Anya rolled her head to the side to face the pillows, feeling just about ready for some rest. "Bi people can be transphobic, Clarke. LGBT people can out each other, it happens all the time. Especially cis folks outing us. You...you were angry with me then. Wouldn't explain why you kept lashing out at me, so I didn't understand why, but you were. And then I was being called in to face the council and have my...my womanhood called into question, Clarke. It was admittedly an easy math equation...given you were the only one I'd told outside of Lexa and you were suddenly after my throat."

"Well, I didn't!" Clarke argued, that fact having already become clear to her.

Anya swallowed and let out a heavy breath. "Let's not forget you came to the same conclusion about me. So can you at least let me drop the knife and leave me alone?"

"Oh my goddess, I rescind any hold I have on you." Clarke blurted out, letting Anya toss the knife backwards, using her remaining energy to crawl up the bed and settle her head on a pillow. Credit to Costia for making Lexa buy such good bedding. "Anya..."

"Please leave..." It was with pure force of will that she managed to get the words out, the pain and exhaustion becoming too much for her to manage.

She heard shuffling behind her, her back turned to Clarke and all, but it was clear that the woman wasn't leaving the room. Instead, she watched blearily as Clarke rounded the bed and crawled up beside her, holding out a small flask. "I learned to carry these around a few years ago. It should help you heal."

Anya closed her eyes. "Don't make me beg any more than I already have, Clarke..."

"I'll leave you alone. Forever, if you want, just...just take this. I'm so sorry, and I need you to be okay, and...just please. Even if you're done with begging, I'm not. Please." Clarke pleaded, holding out the small wooden flask.

If it would get Clarke to go so she could mourn in peace, then so be it. She reached out and, after studying the flask for a moment, tilted her head enough to down the container's worth of liquid, wincing at the harsh bitter taste.

"I'm so sorry, Anya. I'm...I just..." Clarke stammered out before rushing off the bed, stopping just after the door frame. "I can speak words, but promises can't make you trust that I won't hurt you again. I only hope you'll let me prove that to you."

Anya shut her eyes and swallowed back the tears, wondering what might have been if not for the past year. It hurt hearing her old words repeated back to her, but maybe it was an olive branch. Maybe it was an attempt to make things right. Maybe it was a bit of hope that they could move past the pain and suffering between them towards something better.

Whatever it was, it had words tumbling out of her mouth that maybe Clarke hadn't earned yet, but maybe...deep down...she had faith the other blonde could live up to them and earn that trust, eventually.

"You can be a good person again, Clarke. Stop feeling guilty, start proving you're the woman you thought you were." Anya responded, voice weak and shaking. The resulting sob from the doorway, the careful shutting of the door, and fading footsteps all told her that it was safe now.

She was safe to let go now.

The weight of ten months of pain, ostracism, and failure was enormous, but maybe she had the time, maybe she had the space to let it all go as she clutched a nearby pillow and screamed into it.

The sound that tore its way out of Anya at the dual sensation of Clarke's thumb giving one last hard flick across her clit, and her lover's teeth nipping at her sensitive areola, would have been embarrassing if she had the energy and mental capacity to do anything but tremble from the overwhelming rush of pleasure rippling through her body.

As it stood, she'd lost count of how many orgasms she'd been wracked with, and lost any concern over how she came off as Clarke got her off again and again and again.

Clarke was relentless. Honestly, almost to a fault, only allowing her two brief reprieves of one-sided reciprocation amidst her lover's plan to seemingly make her cum in just about every position imaginable. Some positions hadn't been the most comfortable as they experimented, but sitting on Clarke's lap, riding her hand to orgasm, Clarke's other hand slowly rubbing up and down her back as she rose out the waves of pleasure? Clarke cooing sweet-nothings in her ear, voice as warm as a summer's day?

Hell, she could hardly care that the sound she'd made would probably have registered as a squeal. Simply put, she wasn't used to any of this, and was all too happily soaking it in.

In her past encounters, she'd been the one giving and giving and giving, sometimes earning an orgasm in return. The only times she'd ever experiences two was when she'd go solo, and only managed three once before calling it a night, so with her body nearing hypersensitivity and exhaustion, only Clarke's arm holding her upright for the moment, it was hard to care about the sounds she was making in the middle of a revelatory experience.

As her body slowly relaxed, Clarke pulled her hand out and carefully wrapped Anya up in a hug, one Anya was all too happy to sink into. "There's my good girl. You okay, babe?" Anya nodded sluggishly at the question, nose nuzzling at Clarke's temple. She was very much ready for a nap, but knew it was too late in the night for that, not wanting Clarke to miss taking her meds. "Do you need to catch your breath a bit, or can I go grab us some more water?" Clarke asked again, hands gently rubbing up and down her back. They'd run out of bottled water on their last break, so it'd mean an unfortunate separation of more than a few seconds. It wasn't ideal, but as thirsty as she was for Clarke, she was also starting to feel dehydrated. Which, really, meant she was dehydrated, and figured Clarke was getting there as well, so she'd make the sacrifice.

"Mmmn, you're very cute, Clarke, but I'll be fine." Anya answered, pressing a kiss to Clarke's head, only realizing she'd held onto her lover a little tighter when Clarke let out a laugh.

"I know you will." Clarke added with another laugh, reaching up to turn Anya's head enough to draw her into a kiss, Anya's lips chasing Clarke's when she pulled away earlier than hoped. "I'll only be a second."

Reluctantly, Anya ambled off Clarke's lap and laid down on her side, lungs still working to get back to normal functionality as Clarke hurried out of the room. The towels were definitely quite wet in some places, but she didn't mind. Maybe it was weird, but the scent of Clarke's arousal was a little more potent with her nose an inch or two from the towels than it would be sitting up. After innumerable orgasms and about two solid hours of bearing witness to a level of care and desire she'd never witnessed before, she wanted to immerse herself in that experience as much as she could.

Because really, she wasn't sure she'd ever get to feel like this again, and if she couldn't, then she wanted to remember as much as she could. She'd burn into her memory what it was like to have a partner that cared for her.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Clarke asked a minute or so later, amusement saturating her voice as she re-entered the room. Anya lifted her head and peeked over her shoulder enough to catch Clarke looking bewildered and on the verge of laughter. "You're like, curled up in the biggest weaaAAHHH!" Clarke shrieked, suddenly falling down with a hard thump.

Anya wasn't sure she'd ever seen someone slip with that sort of speed, and immediately crawled over to the side of the bed, staring down at a blushing, wincing Clarke. "Darling, are you alright? Did you hit your head?"

Thankfully, Clarke shook her head. "Managed to avoid that, thankfully. Just a sore ass and back, and a bruised ego from slipping on my own mess."

Anya laughed and reached out a hand, helping Clarke up to her feet. She fondly recalled earlier that night where Clarke stood at the side of the bed, Anya on her hands and knees as Clarke took her from behind. That position had been very enjoyable. "Well, I was just taking in your scent because I kind of missed you, so maybe we're both a little embarrassing."

Clarke's eyes went wide, teeth descending into her lower lip. "You're not grossed out? It's kinda gross."

One thing the last few hours had made clear was that as sexually active and adventurous as Clarke was, she still had a hang-up over how wet she'd get. And even putting aside how special the night had been so far for her, Anya was all too happy to put in the work of trying to convince Clarke that it wasn't gross, because it wasn't.

"Darling, a half hour ago, you literally squirted in my mouth and all over my face. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. And I've cleaned you with my tongue a half dozen times tonight, Clarke. I'm not at all grossed out." Anya admitted, cocking an eyebrow at Clarke when her lover's mouth stretched out into a giddy smile. "Now come here and let me kiss you better."

"Well, if you insist." Clarke said airily, picking up the two bottled of water she'd dropped to the floor before getting back on the bed. With a tug at her arm, Anya followed Clarke back up towards the headboard, settling in against the pillows together after kissing her way up. "So...gone not even two minutes and you miss me. What am I to make of that?" Clarke added, entirely playful and teasing, and while it was the positive lighthearted kind, Anya still couldn't help but bury her face in Clarke's shoulder. As much as her assertion had been true, she didn't really have the words to describe why, not without potentially embarrassing herself even more.

And sure, the whole ostrich head-in-the-sand approach wasn't real effective, but it did get Clarke to start playing with her hair, and to loop an arm around her back to hold her closer, so at least there was that.

"You're weirdly adorable, baby. All open and blunt about getting a face full of orgasm, but when it comes to elaborating on, you know, missing me...you get all shy." She heard Clarke muse, soft lips lingering at the top of her head. "I get it. It's easier to be vulnerable about some things than others. Don't feel like you have to explain...for what it's worth, every second I was out of this room, I felt this urge to run back to you."

 Anya allowed herself a smile at Clarke's admission, nose nuzzling against her lover's collarbone. "Why didn't you?" She asked, not accusing, just curious, knowing Clarke was a fairly impulsive person.

"Because I left for a reason. My girl needed some water...I promised I'd take care of you, Anya." Clarke answered so simply and sweetly that Anya felt her eyes water, all the adrenaline and excitement from sex fading off and letting her emotions rise to the surface.

Her breath hitched in her attempt to hold back her emotions, trying to channel as much of her feelings as she could into the way she held tightly to Clarke, the way her cheek nuzzled at Clarke's shoulder, but when a stray tear trickled down onto her lover's body, all it took was a soft gasp from her lover to break the levees.

"Anya...baby girl, what's wrong?" Clarke murmured, misinterpreting her happy tears for something else.

Anya shook her head and reluctantly lifted herself up enough to press her lips to Clarke's in a languid kiss she hoped would express how her lover's words had her feeling. Clarke's surprised hum had Anya's hand shooting up to cradle her head, needing her to understand, because as much as her tongue was active, she wasn't sure she was capable of speaking yet.

It hurt her heart a little as Clarke gently pulled away, even if her lover's soft lips pressed against her chin, nose, and forehead, Clarke brushing away her tears. All she wanted was to be close, to connect, but she could tell Clarke was a little confused still.

"Sweetheart, are...are those sad tears or happy tears?" Clarke asked, bright sapphire eyes boring into hers.

Anya swallowed once, twice, as she ran her hand through Clarke's hair, finally finding enough clarity to find words. "Happy." She answered, managing a smile for a moment before another sob broke it. Still, Clarke's blinding smile was more than enough to wait until she could manage words again, knowing Clarke would be patient. "You...darling, you've taken very good care of me."

"Not like you haven't returned the favor and hoisted me up onto cloud nine. You've been heavenly, tonight, Anya. And that transmutation stuff is just...freaking wow! But still...I'd want nothing less for you. So tell me, what kind of ringing endorsement does that earn me, baby girl?" Clarke asked, thumb caressing Anya's cheek, staring at her with such softness that it felt surreal. No one ever looked at her that way, and yet, there Clarke was, practically glowing with adoration.

It made her confident enough to lean forward, resting her forehead against Clarke's. "I want to be your girl."

Clarke rolled her eyes, gleeful laughter bubbling out of her. "I know, Anya. You said that tonight, I'm yours and you're mine."

Of course Clarke would choose right now to be thick. Anya let out a light scoff, swallowing her insecurity down as she made another run at it. "No, Clarke. I want to be your girl." She restated in a barely mustered whisper, watching the amusement drain from Clarke's eyes a little bit, even if there was still some confusion there. "More than tonight."

Those three words immediately had Clarke's eyes darkening, pupils blown as her lover let out a strangled moan. "Please, don't say that if you don't mean it. Anya, baby, I want...goddess, I want that more than you know. It's been amazing being with you tonight. You're incredible...and if you really want something more, then I'm on board, because I didn't even dare to hope you'd be interested in me like that."

"I feel closer to you than anyone I've ever been with. The way you look at me, the way you touch me, the way you hold me...you make me feel safe. No one's ever taken care of me. Not like this. Never felt special before. Never felt so...so wanted, and secure." Anya said, trailing her nose slowly up and down the side of Clarke's, reveling in her lover's hitched breathing. "I want to be your girl, darling."

Anya watched Clarke's tears spill over, streaking down her cheek as her lip quivered. There was still clear lust in the way Clarke held her, her blown pupils, the way Clarke's focus kept flicking back to her lips again and again. But when Clarke let out a sob and pulled her into a tight, consuming hug, it wasn't a surprise, Anya melting into it immediately, knowing she belonged there in her arms.

"Then you're my girl. My sweet, precious girl." Clarke let out, voice splintering in her effort to speak through her tears. "Shit...my heart wants to show you every way I'll cherish you, and fuck you into the mattress a few more times until we both collapse and fall into a sex coma, but my head says I need to keep my strength so I can take care of you."

An amused hum escaped her at the interesting set of options, though the answer was fairly simple. "Darling, there's nothing wrong with leaving some uncharted territory for another day. All I want is to be here with you, in your arms." She noted in a soft whisper, happily nuzzling Clarke's cheek. "Besides, making a day of you claiming my ass could be fun sometime down the line. You do, after all, have so many nice toys. There's no need to rush everything all at once when tonight's already been a revelation."

"Are you sure, Anya?" Clarke asked, hand combing through her hair, fingertips grazing across her scalp with delectable pressure. Anya gave a small nod, happy to let herself calm in Clarke's embrace. "Then we should get some fluids in you, baby girl. Can't have you dehydrated and overheating in the shower."

"That would be unfortunate." Anya admitted with a low laugh, reluctantly separating enough to spot and grab one of the water bottles Clarke had brought in. She took a long swig of it and then lowered it to Clarke's lips, carefully angling the bottle to her lover's waiting mouth. "Of course, I can't have you getting woozy on me either." She added, content to help rehydrate Clarke, wanting to keep Clarke's hands exactly where they were for as long as she could manage, adoring the way her lover held her.

Only when the bottle of water was completely depleted did Anya reach past Clarke and grab the leather pouch from her nightstand. "For your hand, to dispel the effect."

"Mmmh, thank you. It'd dulled a little in the past half hour, but it's still pretty sensitive." Clarke said, removing her hand from Anya only as long as it took to stick her hand in the pouch and wiggle it around, ensuring enough of the dust made contact to cancel the effect.  Anya let out a happy hum as Clarke's hand returned to her waist. "That stuff was amazing, though. You were amazing...feeling you like that was just...you have no idea, Anya."

Anya cocked a questioning eyebrow at her lover. "So I take it you'd like to involve it again in the future?"

"Definitely. And...well, I've got some ideas on how to have some more fun with it, but I'll leave those until the day of. No harm in a little surprise or two." Clarke answered, a devious glint in her eye letting Anya know that whatever Clarke was thinking up, it was probably a little adventurous.

"I've never been big on surprises, but I trust you...so if you need me to make more of it, then just let me know, darling." She noted, caressing Clarke's cheek. "I suppose we should clean up and shower."

Clarke let out a groan but nodded. "The laundry's going to be so gross."

"I'll take care of it. Why don't you put out the candles and everything while I get all this into the washer?" She asked, pressing a lingering kiss to Clarke's cheek before reluctantly leaving Clarke's lap and getting off the bed.

Clean-up didn't take long, hauling all the towels together and collecting the pillowcases for a wash, and shuttling them over to the washing machine. Anya considered testing out her magic, but decided to just let the machine do the work, since it was there. After grabbing some fresh pillowcases, she headed back in to finish getting the bed prepped just as Clarke was finishing putting out the candles.

She heard Clarke's footsteps round the bed, stilling about a foot or two behind her as she fit the pillows back into their fresh coverings. The woman's silence was curious, but Anya decided to just let it be, waiting to see what Clarke was up to.

The moment she finished fluffing the pillows and stood up straight, she felt the ground slip out from underneath her, Clarke scooping her up, her instincts bringing her arms up around her lover's neck. Her heart was fluttering in her chest, and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks, adoring the gesture even if it worried her. "Darling, your arms must be dead."

"I can still carry you to the bathroom, baby." Clarke shot back, voice a little strained, but to her credit, Clarke did smoothly whisk her across the brief distance, carefully setting her down on the sink's countertop, not quite able to fully contain her tired huff. "See? I have to take care of my girl."

"Your girl appreciates and loves the gesture, but I'd never want you to over-exert yourself just to indulge me." Anya asserted, shooting Clarke an expectant stare until her lover finally let out a sigh and nodded, catching her breath and giving her left arm a shake. "Now, I don't want you lifting a finger in the shower. You leave it all to me, love, you've earned a little rest and relaxation."

Clarke's eyes brimming with tears clued her into her verbal slip, but she couldn't find it in herself to care much, knowing she truly adored Clarke after the night they'd had. Even if it was very premature, Clarke had been wonderful enough that she could let it slide and continue expressing her affections, just perhaps in more physical ways rather than verbally.

Anya hopped off the countertop and started up the water, knowing they'd have a nice, relaxing time ahead of them. Once the water was good and hot, she gestured Clarke to head in. "I'll join you in a moment, I just have to take care of my plug."

Clarke nodded and quickly disappeared behind the shower curtains, leaving Anya to her business and thoughts. It'd been a good long night, one she didn't want to end, even if it was necessary. She could only hope that tomorrow wouldn't bring a change of heart from Clarke, that they'd still hold true to their words tonight.

They had a lot to talk about, a lot to work out, but Anya felt in her heart that they could make it. That if they merely tried, they'd make it.

She hoped Clarke would feel the same tomorrow.

The sun felt a little warmer on Clarke's skin that morning, the orange haze melting through the frost and leaking into the cottage as she sat down on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand. Despite being ninety-five percent sure she could walk out onto the porch and grab a view of the wilderness, Clarke felt content to stick around, knowing there was plenty of time to leave if she wanted to, but that there was only one opportunity to be there when Anya woke.

And while her urge to be as physically close to the woman as possible had faded ever so slightly, enough for Clarke to will herself to sate her hunger, she still didn't want to be too far from Anya. So letting hern get some quality sleep while she chowed down and caught up on some television? Not a bad early morning strategy.

The tiny bit of leftover milk in her bowl had long since dried when the bedroom door opened again midway through episode thirteen. Anya emerged with bleary eyes and a hand over her stomach, a clear focus on the kitchen.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Clarke let out, paying keen attention to the stutter in Anya's stride as her words registered. Still, Anya continued on to the fridge.

"You left me in bed alone to watch more of this crap show? I might be offended." Anya noted warmly, pouring herself a glass of orange juice and pulling a frozen wrap from the freezer. Clarke paused the show and kept focused on Anya, watching curiously as she heated the frozen wrap up with her hand alone. "Seriously, your priorities are a little off, darling."

Now, Clarke hadn't truly worried that last night would be a one off, not after their tearful confessions, but there had been something special in their dynamic when they were wrapped up and intimate. She'd allowed herself to wonder if that would remain with a few feet of distance, or a few kilometers. Her heart felt full to bursting, knowing that nothing changed, that Anya wasn't backing away.

"I can change it if you want. I know you hate the show." Clarke offered as Anya swayed her beautiful self over to the couch and plopped down beside her.

Anya threw a blanket over their laps and cuddled up close. "It's fine. I don't hate the show, I just...it's torture porn."

Clarke's laugh filled the room, and even though Anya glared a little at her, she couldn't help it. "Torture porn? Be serious, babe."

"Pfft, have you sat through every season of the show? No, you haven't." Anya argued with indignation, arms crossing over her chest.

Clarke wrapped an arm around the woman and tugged her closer. "I've seen enough to know One Tree Hill is not torture porn, baby girl. Melodramatic, sure, but not that."

Anya stared at the screen and narrowed her eyes in clear focus before giving a brief nod. "I recognize this. This is the episode where Lucas and Peyton plan to come out and break the news to Brooke that they're gonna be together, that Lucas is breaking up with her for Peyton."

Clarke nodded slowly. "Yeah, seems like it. Kinda brutal, and Peyton keeps getting cold feet about it, but yeah."

"Well this is the start of it all. The next six seasons or whatever will essentially be Brooke getting her heart stomped on repeatedly by everyone, always being given just enough hope to believe it's over, before it happens again. And again." Anya grit out, and suddenly a light bulb switched on in her head.

Costia had only said Anya hated the show. She'd assumed that meant Anya just loathed the premise and genre, but that clearly wasn't the case. "Oh my god, you got invested.  You actually like the show!"

"I do not like the show!" Anya yelled, stilling for a moment to take a deep, calming breath. "Brooke Davis is a saint and a cinnamon roll too pure for this Earth, and I sat through season after season watching her heart get broken, and it wasn't right. I can't like a show where one of the only redeeming characters, one half of the reasons I watched for, relentlessly had happiness torn away from her throughout the majority of its tenure. I hate-watched it. There's a difference."

Clarke did her best to keep her laughter under check, doing her best to distract herself from how glorious Anya's pet peeve was by pressing a lingering kiss to the woman's cheek. "Okay, okay, I believe you. Just as long as you don't crush on her more than me."

"Clarke, she's a fictional character." Anya noted, perhaps not as annoyed given how she leaned into the kiss ever so slightly.

"What about Sophia Bush?" Clarke asked, cocking an eyebrow in question at the woman beside her.

Anya just sighed and sunk back against the couch. "Her alone...eh. I love her voice, but I don't know anything about her."

"Whereas me, on the other hand..." Clarke let out, voice trailing off as she waited for Anya to fill in the blanks. Or, well, she hoped she would. Her attempt at confirming their connection wasn't the least bit subtle, but she hoped it'd be effective anyways. It was one thing to make romantic declarations in the midst of a passionate moment, wrapped up in your lover. It was another to make one in the sober, clear light of day.

"You..." Anya started, eyes slowly narrowing as she met Clarke's questioning gaze. "...you can take me to dinner on Monday. You've earned that much."

Clarke felt hope bubble up in her chest along with the laughter that followed. "I can take you to dinner? You're so generous, babe!"

"And who was the one who made food here? The pizza? The wraps? I don't think a dinner date's too much to ask after everything." Anya retorted airily, and okay, maybe she had a point.

And ultimately, Anya called it a 'date'. Which more or less sealed the deal that Anya was still completely on board.

That made her decision to haul Anya up sideways onto her lap a lot easier, Anya's gasp and shy smile a reward in itself. "Well, if I'm taking my girl out for a nice night, I could use an idea of what she likes best, hm?"

Anya's mouth twisted to the side, a hint of worry at the edges of her eyes. "I'm...well, that part of me isn't very fancy, Clarke. As much as I can appreciate the aesthetic of a lot of upscale restaurants, my tastes are rather more down to earth."

"Well that's fine by me. I don't care what we eat, just so long as you're there to enjoy it with me." Anya's frame relaxing at her words had Clarke's heart feeling warm and full.

"So if I told you there's a barbecue festival in the spring that I'm looking forward to, that I love breakfast food and pizza, and that I'm kind of big on comfort foods?" Anya asked, head ducking to rest against Clarke's temple. "It's just I usually eat between three and four thousand calories a day when I'm on active duty, due to my work and training, so expensive food just doesn't really work with that, and expensive restaurants make me antsy. Spending a bunch of money on something nice that lasts? Great. On food? I have a hard time with that."

Clarke turned her head and angled upwards, pulling Anya into a languid kiss, adoring how her lover melted into her, how Anya held her like she never wanted to let go. "So if I wanted to take you to my favourite pizza place...?" Clarke started, letting her voice trail off. It took Anya a moment to shake the haze from their kiss, it seemed, but as soon as her words were processed, Anya lit up. Hope looked absolutely beautiful on Anya. "Fair warning that I like pineapple on my pizza, but we can always split toppings half and half."

"Duly noted. I can't say I'd eat pineapple on pizza, but so long as they stay on your half, then I'm sure it'd be a lovely dinner." Anya relayed, running a hand through Clarke's hair.

"And maybe we take a walk by the water afterward, down to the pier. And maybe..."

The sound of the front door opening had her mouth clamping shut and turning her head, Clarke stretching her neck far enough to try and look down the hall to the entrance.

"Hello? Please tell me there's still two living witches in here." She heard Costia call out just before venturing deep enough into the house for Clarke to catch sight of her and wave. "Oh hey! There you...uh...there you both are."

"Are they at least getting alo..." Lexa started to ask until she came into view, stopping beside Costia as she stared at them. The back of the couch hid most of their bodies but it was pretty clear to anyone with eyes that she and Anya were physically very close.

Costia held out a hand at Lexa, palm facing upwards. "Pay up. I told you this could happen."

"Fine." Lexa sighed, pulling a bill from her pocket and handing it over to Costia. "I'm just happy you two are alive and apparently quite well."

"You realize it could have gone very wrong?" Anya asked as Lexa and Costia made their way into the living room, settling onto the loveseat. "Costia, you warded up the house well enough, but you left Clarke in full control of her magic."

Costia recoiled, eyes growing wide. "What? No I didn't, I remember gating away magical reserves and enchanting the cottage to provide a small decrease in inhibitions so you'd be a little more honest. That's it."

Costia's words came as a relief. As minor of a possibility as it was, she'd worried that Costia had enchanted the cottage to draw the both of them together, to artificially develop a connection. To hear it was just a minor hit to their personal walls to let each other be more honest? That'd help her sleep easier tonight.

"Internal reserves, yes. But Clarke requires boosters to wield her abilities to any real extent. Just those trinkets of hers are enough to get her up to about ninety percent effectiveness." Anya stated, earning a quick nod from Clarke.

"Yeah, my hold on her was about an hour shorter than usual, but I still got complete control over her right away after I dropped one of my spell-bombs. In hindsight, that was really dangerous." Clarke clarified.

Lexa peered at Anya intently, green eyes scanning for damage. "Anya, are you okay?"

"Things got pretty messy for a few hours..."

"A severe understatement." She interjected, knowing Anya was keeping it light for Lexa and Costia's sake, but she couldn't stomach it. "I hurt her. Badly. And even through it, she found a way to convince me that someone conspired to pit us against each other. That she hadn't spilled my secret, and I hadn't spilled hers. After that, I promised myself I'd take care of her and get her healthy again."

"Which she did." Anya stated pointedly, even if it didn't relax Lexa's steely glare, not that Clarke figured she deserved anything less than a glare. "Doesn't excuse the past ten months, but it does explain it, and I'm moving forward. We were tricked into fighting each other, so I'd rather focus on forgiving Clarke and finding our enemy."

Costia stretched out both hands, gesturing at the two of them. "That's...more than forgiveness."

"Trust me, Costia. That fact isn't lost on me. I'm really lucky Anya's giving me this chance." She admitted, turning her gaze over to Anya. "I'm really looking forward to that dinner date."

 "Date? You're already dating?" Costia blurted out, brow furrowing as her focus danced between Anya and Clarke.

Clarke pointed towards the bedroom in confusion. "You're the ones that left a stash of candles and my toy chest under the bed. You're the ones that filled this house with plenty of tasty food. You're the ones who made sure we couldn't leave."

"We...okay, we thought you'd settle your differences and be friends." Lexa chimed in a blush rising to her cheeks. "The candles and your chest were...well, meant for us, for after the weekend's events, after you two made up."

"You remember how I felt about Clarke before things went to hell, Lexa." Anya countered quickly, just barely beating Clarke to the punch.

"And Cos, you know I used to think Anya was really cute before this year. And that even when I hated her, you totally picked up on the fact that I still thought she was kind of incredible." Clarke added, watching her two friends closely as they glanced at each other in confusion. "You didn't tell each other that, did you?"

Costia looked to Lexa and winced, apology written across her face. "I don't think it came up, no."

Lexa just sighed, slumping forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "Yeah, could have planned things differently if I knew you both had a thing for each other. Could take taken a more...romantic approach, than trying to coop you up until you come clean and prove you care about each other. Not that you didn't find a way to add a little romance, I guess. Congratulations, I suppose."

"Thanks, Lexa. So you're okay with me taking Anya on a date tomorrow night?" Clarke asked, feeling a little trepidation, but Lexa settled that quickly with a nod, even if her smile was a little strained.

"You just take care of her, and we'll be fine." Lexa answered simply. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that what happened here was nearly as eventful as what happened at the gathering."

Anya took hold of her hair and began weaving a lock of it into a braid. "And what did we miss? I usually wouldn't complain about missing the festivities, but...well, you know how I feel about the things."

"That's the other half of why we had you two locked away. We spent most of the weekend discussing with the rest of the coven's leadership, gathering insight from elders, and repairing Nia Frost's last ditch attempt to gain power. We executed her last night." Costia answered, and even Clarke couldn't keep from gasping, breathless at the idea of a major power in their coven being killed off like that, and missing it.

"For destroying herbs?" Anya asked, sounding just as perplexed as Clarke was. Sure, everyone knew Nia was up to no good and was shady, but all of her misdeeds were effectively minor. Or, at least, the ones anyone could prove.

"For her part in inciting unrest in the coven, in attacking members of the coven, in committing treason against the coven, and committing conspiracy to murder both myself and Lexa." Costia added, Clarke needing to tighten her grip on Anya to keep her on her lap, unsure exactly where Anya felt a need to go.

"She did what?!" Anya yelled, voice strangled as she stared pleadingly at Lexa and Costia for answers.

Clarke reeled Anya back in, pressing kisses to her shoulders, slowly leaking away the cable-like tension there. "Shhh, baby girl. They're clearly safe."

"It's true. While you two butted heads over the past months, we heard your sides of the story and realized they didn't add up. So we dug...three weeks ago, we got Echo to turn on Nia, confessing she was the leak, that she outed you, Anya...and tried to slut-shame you, Clarke." Lexa explained calmly, and thankfully slowly enough to give Anya and herself time to digest. "Apparently, with Viera about to retire from the council back then, and Sienne planning to leave early in the new year so she can spend more time with her son, Nia saw two council spots opening up. She saw you two as powerful candidates and allies of ours, so she thought if she could embroil you in conflict, she'd have you at each other's throats and undermine your legitimacy as candidates, making it easier for her to make a grab for power this coming year."

 That all made a scary amount of sense, knowing if Nia had two more council votes, she could flip the council and take the helm. It was damn relieving to hear Nia wouldn't have that opportunity, even if it was frustrating that she and Anya couldn't reach out and get justice on their own.

"She thought we were threats?" Anya asked, sounding more than a little perplexed. Her girl was clearly thinking a little too modestly of herself.

Lexa seemed to agree with her on that, at least. "Anya, you're the best combat-ready witch we have in our coven, you're the only one with a perfect record. Whatever folks might think of you otherwise, you have respect from that and the leadership you've shown on operations. And Clarke...to our knowledge, no one else in North America has the abilities you do, on top of you being an accomplished diplomat and negotiator so far. You've been groomed towards leadership for a while now. Both of you have bright futures...you were strong candidates. In time, you will be again."

"And what about Echo? She did this to us...what's happening to her?" Clarke piped up, knowing she'd love to offer the other woman a nice punch or two to the face for everything she'd made them endure.

"She'll be exiled at the end of the coming week, with a tentative agreement from the coven the Dakotas to take her in afterward." Costia answered. "We wanted her to be available if either of you wanted to try for some closure. For what it's worth, she did seem remorseful, and had been in part coerced by Nia to spy on the coven's membership. If you want her to hear you out, she'll be around until Friday evening."

Closure.

It was something she'd desired yesterday, but as she sat there with Anya in her arms, it was hard to feel any motivation to slog over to where they were likely holding Echo and to say her piece. If Anya wanted to, she absolutely would tag along, but with the situation more or less resolved, she had a freer slate. Time better spent with her girl than venting at Echo.

"What do you want to do about it, babe? I'll take your lead." She asked, turning her head and speaking softly into Anya's ear, gently rubbing a hand up and down her girl's back.

Anya's mouth twisted in thought, but her girl didn't need to deliberate very long. "Echo may have outed me, but if she was coerced, then I can hardly lay all the blame on her. Besides, it was only a serious issue because so many of the witches here didn't feel I was a real woman. If the coven was fully accepting, it wouldn't have mattered much at all. I don't forgive her, but she's not the reason I was nearly voted into exile, she was just the catalyst for that vote. I'll be fine, I don't need to see her."

"Well, I guess that wraps that up. We'll still keep her around a few more days to process her, but alright. If that's how you both feel, we understand." Lexa stated with a slow nod. "So, what do you two want to do with the rest of your Sunday? The gathering's over, so you're free to go."

Clarke couldn't help but let out a tiny laugh at the way Lexa and Costia's expressions shifted to expectant stares, making it pretty clear that their favourite duo had certain plans of their own. She angled Anya's head down and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Baby, I think they have designs on spending the rest of the day here alone. What do you say we head back to town, I stir up my famous hot cocoa at chez Griffin, and we cuddle up with something you actually like watching? Hrm?"

Anya's cheeks bloomed with a rosy pink hue as her teeth descended into her lower lip. "Clarke, we have a date on Monday."

"If you think I want to drive you home and wait until Monday evening to see you again, you're kidding yourself, beautiful. I mean, I will if that's what you want, but when I have a chance at having a lazy day with you in my arms, I'm going to see about it before relenting to spending it alone." Clarke explained quietly, watching in pure adoration as Anya's smile spread into a gleeful grin, amber eyes looking back at her with a heady display of fondness, though not so distracting to hide the glimmer of disbelief.

It hurt a little to think that maybe Anya, or perhaps just a part of her, was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Still, that was partially her own fault, and the fault of the coven, and she'd do what she could to be there for her girl going forward. Anya needed more people she could fully count on, and Clarke knew she'd earn that trust one day. A night of vulnerabilities, connections, and intimacy couldn't solve all of their issues; no, they'd be a work in progress for some time.

But Clarke was never afraid of hard work.

Thankfully, as Anya's lips pressed against her forehead, she had a partner seemingly all too happy to let Clarke fast-track things between them in spending more time together. "Well, darling, how could I possibly resist checking out your famous recipe? I'd love to spend the day with you."

Thrilled, Clarke turned her focus to Lexa and Costia, who were still waiting on an answer. "It's settled! We're going to head back into the city, but we'll need your SUV, Lexa."

"What? Why not Costia's?" Lexa asked, features twisting slightly, and understandably. Lexa's vehicle was kind of her baby.

"Your front seats are comfier, and Anya deserves the best after this weekend's troubles." Clarke stated, raising her eyebrows in expectation, knowing it was playing a little dirty, but Lexa did play no small part in the fact that Anya had endured pain and trauma that weekend. And her girl deserved the heated cushiony leather seats of Lexa's SUV instead of the stiff cold cloth seats Costia's offered.

Lexa held her gaze, green eyes narrowing for a moment before their coven leader smirked. "So she does. You take care of her." Her friend offered, tossing her the keys.

Her less than average coordination had her wondering if she'd take a set of keys to her face, but Anya easily caught them and handed them off, Clarke angling up to kiss her girl's cheek for her aid. "I'll take care of them both, I promise."

She reluctantly helped Anya off her lap, laughing at the slight pout on her girl's lips. "I'll go get the engine and seats warmed up. Can you please bring our stuff to the foyer?" She continued, getting up from the couch. "And you two enjoy yourselves. We did a fresh load of laundry, so aside from the food, it's just as it was when we got here. Perfect for a little romantic getaway."

Costia got up and crossed the floor, pulling her into a hug. "Thanks, Clarke. You two have fun...and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Clarke rolled her eyes and returned the embrace. "I won't. And thanks for settling things at the coven. We appreciate it."

"It's what family's for." Costia added easily, giving her one last squeeze before stepping away. "Now you'd better go warm up Lexa's car before she starts getting separation anxiety and takes it back."

She laughed and turned, striding to the foyer to grab her coat. Never in her life did she think she'd be leaving the weekend of the solstice with a new girlfriend, and with an enemy cleared away.