Lightning Only Strikes Once - Clexa

Chapter 133, Epilogue: To Ascend

There is an expectant hush in the air. A sea of faces spreads out from the tower as far as can be seen in every direction, jostling in silence for a slightly better position, a slightly closer one. The most ardent believers make the holy sign, a closed fist pressed against their forehead, exactly where Heda's cogwheel sits.

Lexa the Undying, the Commander, Leader of the Thirteen Clans, Creator of the Alliance, Commander of Souls, breathes out. And sends the weighted knife flying to the centre of the target.

Clarke can't help the smile that spreads over her face when Lexa glances back to see if her houmon is watching, just as the crowd explodes with enthusiasm. She wonders if someone testing the knives before a knife throwing competition has ever been the object of such intense devotion and attention before. Probably not. It warms her that she's the only one whose reaction Lexa cares about despite that.

The competitions started a week ago. Ascension Day has always had fights between individuals, challenges between the gathered people, arguments between drunk gona that turn physical. This year, however, in honour of the peace that shows every sign of being lasting (despite a few troublesome issues that are still being dealt with), Clarke had the idea of a more thorough set of events, pitting the best of each clan against each other. Running races, climbing, knife throwing, and of course all kinds of fighting. Winners to receive glory for their clan. Lexa told her that a lot of them are getting more than that – runners getting offered positions as messengers for important people, climbers as scouts or sentries, and fighters as guards or gona.

The final rounds of each competition are happening today to honour the Ascension. So far the Sankru are winning overall, though the Trikru are making headway. Skaikru are, of course, coming dead last. They haven't had long enough to build up the muscle mass and swiftness of the Grounders. Besides Octavia, the few who knew how to fight without guns only know Ark-style fighting, which means they're used to very flat and steady ground and to small enclosed spaces. It doesn't really bother Clarke that her people are losing any more than it seems to thrill Lexa that her people could win. They're all just – people, to both of them, now. It's comforting.

It's different. But good.

Clarke glances over at Gustus and sees he's tapping the fingers of his left hand rhythmically against the side of his spear. To anyone watching, it looks like a nervous habit, even he doesn't seem to be aware he's doing it. However, because of Clarke and Lexa's near-continuous company of guards, worshippers, worried citizens, Natblida, and various other people, they have a lot of quiet signals for different important things – and this specific pattern of tapping is one of them.

Lexa retreats back to the seat next to Clarke, inclining her head to give the competitors permission to begin.

Lexa takes Clarke's hand and kisses the back quickly. "This was a good idea of yours, ai niron," she says softly. "Indra has reported only four fights between the clans outside these events, all easily dealt with." The enthusiastic catcalls and cheers as each clan's representative takes their turn perfectly covers anything they say to each other.

Clarke lets her eyes drift over to Gustus casually, and Lexa immediately tenses, so imperceptibly that no one but those closest to her could tell. She observes the pattern as well.

It means – important message from Raven. All messages from Raven are urgent and top secret these days, but this one has been especially anticipated.

Lexa continues to stare out at the competition, offering nods of approval and respect at particularly good throws. There's a particularly loud cheer as the Azgeda representative sinks his third knife into the exact centre of the far-away target. Clarke can see Roan across in his seat, clapping almost resentfully – if he'd only been going by his own wishes, he would have represented Azgeda in every event, she's pretty sure, and that thought makes her smile briefly.