1.

Their house is located near the east border of the village, where the well-trod soil gives way to the forest, and an almost indistinguishable pathway leads to a small, clear lake.

Lexa has built the small cottage herself, selecting each stone used for the walls, each piece of wood with which to build the windows and the furniture, each scrap of metal for the pots and pans.

It is not luxurious by any means, but they have learned to need very little, and to want even less.

The house is small and dirty, but it's warm and it's theirs and that's all that matters.

It had all started one night when Clarke was reading some of her favorite poems to Lexa, her voice soft and sleepy.

Lexa too was slowly surrendering to slumber, when Clarke started reciting-

Her breast is fit for pearls,
But I was not a "Diver" -
Her brow is fit for thrones
But I have not a crest.

Her heart is fit for home-
I - a Sparrow - build there
Sweet of twigs and twine
My perennial nest.

"I like that," Lexa had said, turning towards Clarke and capturing the girl's cold feet between hers. "Those last three lines. I want to do that."

"Are you going to build me a home?" Clarke had asked, a smirk on her face and her voice full of laughter and adoration.

"Yes."

"Alright, my little sparrow," Clarke had answered.

The book forgotten, they had laid under the covers facing each other, only a breath separating them in the rapidly darkening room. "Tell me about it."

"Well... let's see. I'll build it on the east side of the village, where the trees become gold every morning with the rising of the sun, and the grass is high. It will have a sturdy door that we will close at night so nobody can bother us, and windows all around so we can see the birds perched on the branches. There will be a small table, just for us, and a big bed with soft furs and light sheets. And on the back porch we will place an easel so you can paint and I'll build a library for all your books, and you will read them to me every night before we fall asleep."

Her voice had become more and more faint, more and more sleepy the longer she talked.

Clarke's voice held the same quality when she whispered, "That sounds lovely." And then, after a bit, "I love you, Lexa. You know that, right? Forever."

"I love you too," she had answered. "Whatever happens, don't ever forget it."

/

Lexa relives that moment in her mind seemingly a thousand times and her arms ache with the desire to hold Clarke and never let go.

She has seen her only in passing, the girl busy planting crops or helping her mother in the medical area after the scouts' return from one of the many missions Lexa is sending them on lately.

Lexa has started sleeping in her tent again and she has never felt as much like a soldier away in battle as she does now in her cold, uncomfortable cot. It's not like she is using it much, anyway.

On most nights she knows she won't be able to sleep so she prefers to stay awake, perched on her armchair, the maps of the areas surrounding the village spread on the table. She crams her head with unnecessary battle plans, spends hours arranging useless scouts' missions against imaginary enemies, anything to forget how empty her arms feel without Clarke nestled in them, how she can't sleep, can't breath without the other girl near.

2.

"Take the game to the kitchens," Lexa commands a young soldier while dismounting her horse, "We'll have a feast tonight."

She can see the small group of people, composed mostly by elders and children, those who are not working around the village or in the fields, that has gathered around the returning hunting party.

The mood is relaxed and cheerful, and it takes Lexa a few moments before she can recognize it for what it is. Her people are happy.

In the two weeks since her and Clarke's heated discussion her soldiers have managed to launch a few successful attacks towards a couple of tribes that were threatening their northern borders, their army almost invincible thanks to the combination of the grounders' knowledge of the land and the power of the sky people's firearms.

Their community feels finally safe and the morale of the village is high.

This is everything she has ever wanted, what has given her the strength to face every hard decision she had to make both in the battlefield and outside, what has allowed her to keep her sanity when the ghosts had come banging at her door in the middle of the night, plaguing her dreams.

But now, seeing her people smiling and joking, the children chasing each other around while their parents look at them, no longer anguished by the terror of what their future will be like, Lexa can't find it in herself to share any of the joy that surrounds her.

She only feels tired and heavy. She starts towards her tent, hoping that her seconds will leave her alone for the rest of the day, when she feels Indra following her.

She knows her second is not happy with the way things have been lately, so she's not at all surprised when Indra's voice fills the space between them.

"Are you sure, commander, that this is the right time for celebrations?"

Lexa takes a deep breath, making a mental bet with herself on how long Indra will be able to go on before loosing her cool.

"Why not, Indra? The hunting expedition has been fruitful, and a wedding will be taking place in a few short days."

"Lincoln and Octavia don't need any big celebration, Heda. The winter has been harsh, and we are still low on food's provisions. Not to mention that it is hardly convenient to get half of the soldiers drunk when the other half is out on numerous scouting missions and thus not here to protect the village."

"Is it a complain I hear in your voice, Indra? Do you not agree with the decisions I have made as a leader?"

Indra stops, and Lexa turns around to hear her answer.

"Heda, you know my faith in you is unshakable. I didn't agree with your decision to form an alliance with the sky people, but I followed you anyway. And you were right. The alliance has finally ended a war our clan had been fighting for too long a time, and brought prosperity and happiness to our people."

The older woman pauses and gets closer before resuming more quietly, "Lexa. I've been beside you since you became Heda. I've seen you grow, both as a person and as a leader. I've seen you make mistakes and learn from them. There are mistakes we can come back from, and others we can't. And some that are only redeemable for a short amount of time before they become our doom. I trust you know the difference."

"Whatever you have to say, Indra, just say it. No skirting around."

"Alright," Indra gets even closer, her stance protective and stoic at the same time. "I've never seen you happier than in these last few months. Not even with Costia. And I know how hard it must have been for you to trust the sky girl with your heart, after what happened. You know I do.

"We are the same, you and I. Our days are grounded in the heat of the battle, and our nights are drowned in the blood we have shed. But that's not all there is. That's not life. I learned it the hard way. I let my person go, and my heart has been cold for many years by now.

"And the truth is that that hasn't made me a better general. It hasn't made me stronger. Just more desperate. And what you're doing right now, the missions you are ordering, the decisions you are making, I can see in them the same desperation that has filled me. You are miserable, and so is she."

"At least she's alive. I can't put her in danger again, Indra."

"You need to find a way to solve this situation, because right now you are putting everyone in danger. Your people need you strong. They need you focused. And that's not going to happen while you're nursing a broken heart. You cannot devote your life to making your people happy if you will not accept happiness for yourself."

Apparently having said her piece, Indra turns around and, without looking back, retreats towards the military compartment.

Lexa enters her tent, shaken and confused.

3.

That night the sky is illuminated by the many bonfires lit around the main square, and everyone, sky people and trigedakru alike, are gathered together to celebrate both the ending of one of the harshest winter they can recount and the first union of their two groups in the form of Octavia and Lincoln's wedding.

The ceremony itself will be in a few days but no one can refuse a chance to drink and be merry, and the tables are filled with people talking, a mixture of English and Trigedasleng. A few couples are dancing, and Clarke doesn't remember ever seeing anyone of her group as cheerful and carefree as they are right now.

She's sitting alone on a log near one of the fires, observing, when she feels a presence behind her.

She doesn't need to turn around to know who it is. She has developed a sort of sixth sense for Lexa in the months of their relationship, and she didn't expect it to go away just because they are not together anymore.

"They look so happy," Lexa says.

Clarke wonders for a moment if she's talking about Lincoln and Octavia, whom she spies laughing together over some silly whispered secret only they know, or the rest of their people. She decides it doesn't matter anyway.

"Yeah," she answers.

They fall silent, and it's awkward, and sad, and everything they swore they will never be together. Lexa must be thinking the same thing because Clarke can see her preparing to leave.

But she doesn't want that. She never wants that. So she gathers all her strength, all her bravery, and she asks, "Would you like to dance with me?"

Lexa's eyes are wide and she reminds Clarke of a wild animal the moment it realizes it's caught in a trap. But then the girl takes a deep breath, and Clarke can see her whole body relaxing.

"It depends. Will it be one of my dances, or one of yours?"

"Come on, we both know you love the waltz. Every time I play the vinyl with that Billie Holiday song you practically beg me to dance with you..."

She realizes too late what she has said and when she turns around Lexa looks heartbroken, her eyes full of tears, her hands trembling.

"I'm sorry," Clarke amends. "I wasn't thinking."

She stands up and starts to leave but a hand wraps delicately around her wrist.

"I would love to dance with you, Clarke," Lexa declares, tender and hopeful. "Whatever song you want."

4.

Lexa's hand moves from her wrist to tangle their fingers, and they start walking until they notice that they're in front of their house.

Lexa goes to open the door but stops once she's about to enter. This is their home, but she hasn't been inside in weeks and suddenly she wonders if it has become Clarke's house instead, if she needs to be invited inside. The thought makes her want to vomit.

Clarke, never to be underestimated, seems to recognize her struggle and puts a hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her inside and closing the door after them.

"Do you remember what you told me once, about this door? You said that you wanted a sturdy door, so that-"

"So that nobody could bother us at night." Clarke gives a soft smile, and it feels like salvation. "I remember everything about you."

She goes to the old gramophone she's had since she was little, when she discovered it among some old ruins near her town. In the years she's been able to collect a few vinyls, but none of the songs she's listened to has fascinated her like the one she's putting on right now.

As the music starts, and Billie Holiday's warm voice invades the room, Lexa takes Clarke's hand in her own again and invites her closer, closer, until she cannot tell where one ends and the other starts.

Clarke's other hand gently caresses Lexa's hair before cupping her neck. They swing together, just looking at each other and Lexa thinks- this is it. This is the moment for which she has fought, and bled, and survived. This is why she has endured all those battles, why fate has saved her countless times when she was sure her life was over.

It was all so she could live this moment, to be here right now, with Clarke's hand stroking her neck and her body close. So she could see the devotion in the girl's eyes, the raw emotions Clarke cannot conceal after the weeks apart.

So she could feel herself bursting with the strength of this feeling, her chest tight and her eyes full of tears.

Clarke's hands come to catch them before they fall to her cheeks and Lexa's heart explodes with the love she feels for this girl, for this amazing, strong, fearless girl.

"Come back home," Clarke finally pleads. "The bed is cold, and the pillow doesn't smell like you anymore, and I need you. I need you to wake me up in the morning with a kiss, I need you to dance silly old songs with me. I need to fall asleep with you holding me, and to wake up with you all the way on the other side of the bed because you can't stop moving when you sleep."

Lexa smiles and holds her tighter.

"I want to. I really do. But I don't know if I'm brave enough," she confesses.

"You are. I know you are. And when you are not, I will be brave enough for the both of us."

Lexa touches her forehead to Clarke's.

"You were always so much braver than me," she says.

She doesn't know who moved first, but suddenly their lips are touching, and she can breathe again.

Clarke kisses her like she's a treasure, long sought and finally discovered, and maybe that's the closest thing to the truth.

Clarke has found her, has breathed life back into her body with soft words and delicate touches, has conquered her soul without Lexa even realizing it.

How wrong she has been, thinking that she could ignore the very person her soul has swore loyalty and devotion to. She belongs to Clarke, just as much as Clarke belongs to her.

/

"I will protect you," Clarke tells her in the dark, after.

Lexa has never believed much in promises but this one, this one feels like a miracle.

And if she can choose something, anything, to put all her faith in, she will gladly choose Clarke every time.