AN: Hi! My name is Rae, and I'm brand new to The 100 fandom. I specialize in writing sex with feels, and I'm also a published author who writes queer romances/erotica. ^^ Pleeeease follow me on tumblr raedmagdon because I'm going to be posting a lot more The 100 fanfic in the near future. I'm in love with this show.

This story is fairly vanilla femslash, but very explicit. If that's not your thing, turn back. I am TOTALLY DIGGING the Clexa slow burn in season 3, and I think it's perfect, but I was curious what might have happened if Clarke had just been ever so slightly further along in her 'forgive Lexa' arc. If she'd reached deep down and agreed to give Lexa the smallest bit of trust a little sooner.

It'll probably end up being a two-parter, so let me know in the comments if you want me to write a second chapter from Lexa's POV.

. . .

Following Instructions

. . .

Clarke stood by the window, staring out over Polis and letting the night wind play across her face. The sky had dimmed into darkness, but the streets below were alight with torches. Heda had proven her worth once again, and her people were celebrating. And they should be celebrating, Clarke reminded herself, tucking her arms a little further into her robe. Lexa earned this. But although the Commander had fought bravely, Clarke couldn't shake the queasy feeling in her stomach.

The spear had been close. Close enough that Clarke's heart had almost stopped beating before she realized the point hadn't gone through Lexa's skull. She'd forgotten how to breathe, and the tightness in her chest still hadn't loosened several hours later. Merely remembering sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine, one that had nothing to do with the cool air. A little over a week ago, she had been ready to kill Lexa herself. Now, the prospect of her death was terrifying. A second slower, and everything would have been different. She would have been dead, and I...

A knock at the door pulled her out of her own head. She turned, about to call out and ask who was there, but discovered that she already knew. Some part of her had been waiting for Lexa from the moment she had retired to her room. Her stomach lurched again, but this time the sensation wasn't unpleasant, and the tingle she felt wasn't entirely from the cold.

She made it half way across the room without realizing it. Her feet carried her to the door without conscious thought, more swiftly than a simple knock warranted. She had no idea what she would say when she opened it, but she could picture who was waiting for her on the other side. Lexa, proud and straight-shouldered, her jaw tilted up at a proud angle. She's probably still in her armor. I wonder if she's washed the blood off yet, or if she wants to enjoy her victory a little longer.

But when Clarke opened the door, the sight she found wasn't at all what she had expected. Lexa was indeed waiting there, but she looked nothing like her usual self. Instead of her armor, she wore a thin black nightgown that left her pale arms bare. Her hair flowed loose and unbraided around her shoulders, and her face was clear of war paint, making her green eyes appear much lighter than normal. She didn't demand entrance—didn't say anything at all. She only stared, waiting in silence.

"Is this I told you so?" Clarke asked. There was something naked in Lexa's expression, and it made her feel raw without words to fill the silence.

"No." Lexa continued gazing straight ahead, directly into her eyes. "This is thank you."

The intensity of the look should have made it challenging, but Clarke felt herself relax. Whatever she wants, she isn't here to argue. "Come in," she said, taking a step back.

Lexa padded into the room almost cautiously, breaking the curious moment and casting her gaze down to her bare feet. Nothing remained of her usual brisk, confident stride. She almost seemed to be curling in on herself, as if... Clarke's attention darted to the bandage around Lexa's palm. She's hurt. More than she's letting on. Her mind flashed to the instant when Lexa had gripped Roan's blade in her bare fist. Even from the sidelines, she had seen the blood.

"Here." She took Lexa's hand in hers, folding her fingers gently beneath it and raising it for closer inspection. "Sit down. Let me change that for you."

She soon realized that it wasn't an offer she was well-equipped to make good on. There weren't any medical supplies in the room she had been given, and the best substitute for a bandage at her disposal was a threadbare blanket folded at the foot of her bed. It had seen better days, but at least it was clean. She grabbed it up and turned toward the couch, where Lexa had already taken a seat with her hands folded lightly over her lap.

Clarke sat as well. Her knee brushed against Lexa's on the way, and she shifted to put another inch of space between them, taking the Commander's hand again instead. She busied herself with unwinding the bandage, trying not to question why she had chosen to sit so close. "That girl who was with Nia... Ontari? What will happen to her?"

Lexa rolled her lips together, watching the gauze as it peeled away from her palm. "She won't be back until the conclave after my death."

Death... Death hadn't come for Lexa today, but Clarke could still feel its shadow. She had felt it beating down on the back of her neck in the ring that afternoon, worse than the blazing sun, clogging her throat like the clouds of brown dust rising from the ground. It's not like you should care. She left you and your friends to die at Mount Weather without a second thought.

But even as the accusing words ran through her head, Clarke knew they weren't quite true. Lexa had thought about it, agonized over it before sounding the retreat. That much had been clear from the moment she whispered, "May we meet again." In all honesty, Clarke had no idea whether Lexa's obvious guilt made her betrayal better or worse.

"Do you ever talk about anything other than your death?"

Lexa smiled slightly, just enough to make the angles of her face smoother. Once again, she didn't speak.

Clarke couldn't bear to look for long. The slight bruise beneath Lexa's lower lip made her chest ache. Instead, she spread out the blanket and ripped a thin strip from the bottom. At least changing Lexa's bandage was something she didn't have to think about. At this point, it was almost automatic. She began winding, her gaze traveling slowly up along Lexa's forearm. It appeared slender at first glance, but there was strength in it, too. Her sword had not wavered when it was trained on Roan, and her spear had aimed true.

"Thank you for backing me."

Lexa's voice was so quiet that Clarke almost thought she was imagining it. She raised her head, searching for any sign of expectation or resentment, but there was none. All she found was the same tender, hopeful expression that Lexa had worn ever since entering her room. Once again, she had to look away. "I did what was best for my people."

Hurt flickered across Lexa's face, and she averted her eyes too. Clarke felt a stab of... something... Guilt? before she managed to shake it off. She had plenty to feel guilty for. Wanheda had massacred an entire nation, after all. But Lexa's hurt feelings and the kiss they were probably both thinking about weren't her fault. Lexa had betrayed her, and the kiss had only lasted a moment, an attempt to feel when everything was about to fall apart and life seemed fleeting.

But the memories were clearer than she wanted them to be. The warmth of Lexa's mouth on hers. The smoothness that had taken her by surprise until she pressed back. The light brush of Lexa's nose against hers as she leaned in again and...

No. That kiss was a mistake, and so was trusting her. I don't know how she lives with it. I still can't.

"Your ambassadors betrayed you," she said to fill the silence. "How do you move forward?"

Lexa dipped her head. The pain Clarke had seen before was still present, but controlled, almost resigned. "They were doing what they believed was right for their people, too."

Clarke opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She wasn't sure what was right for her people anymore, and even less sure what was right for her. The definition of 'right' kept changing whenever she stopped to think about it. Eventually, she stood, all too aware of the warmth of Lexa's thigh resting near hers. Somehow, the two of them had shifted closer. I need some distance. Now, before I get any more confused.

But the way Lexa leaned ever so slightly toward her as she rose to her feet wouldn't allow her to give a cold dismissal. "Reshop, Heda," she said, hoping Trigedasleng would make the words seem friendlier to Lexa even if the language's accents sounded sharp to her own ears.

Lexa smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Those were tinged with sadness as she stood and turned toward the door. "Good night, Ambassador." She prepared to leave the room the same way she had entered it, slipping by on soft feet and curling in on herself once again.

"Wait."

Clarke didn't know she was about to speak until the word burst unbidden past her lips, but once it filled the room, she couldn't take it back. Part of her didn't want to take it back. Lexa had made herself vulnerable by coming here alone, carrying nothing with her but honesty and sincerity. Even though she was still angry, even though she still wanted Lexa to hurt for what she had done, part of her couldn't let such a gesture go unanswered.

Lexa's hand dropped. She closed the door again, but she remained standing in place for a long time before she turned back. She waited, and Clarke noticed that she was trembling ever so slightly.

"The Ambassador wasn't the one who backed you today. Clarke was." Once again, she felt the overwhelming urge to look away, but she resisted. Lexa had practically held her own heart out in her hands. The least she could do was acknowledge it resting between them.

"Why?" Lexa asked, but Clarke heard the faint stirrings of hope in the question. "A week ago, you vowed to kill me yourself. I thought my death would please you, even if it didn't please Clarke the Ambassador."

Clarke crossed the room, taking both Lexa's hands in hers and leading her away from the door. Even after she was certain the Commander would stay, she couldn't make herself let go. "I... I don't know why."

One of Lexa's thumbs brushed along the side of her wrist, bringing a scatter of sparks with it. "I do." And then Lexa's lips were on hers again, just as hot and sweet as she remembered.

It took several long seconds for Clarke to realize that she had been the one to bring their mouths together. Her left hand was still clutching Lexa's uninjured fingers, but her right had come up to wind around the back of Lexa's neck. It was a desperate hold, but she didn't loosen it. She wove her fingers through Lexa's hair, moaning as the lips beneath hers parted. This is a mistake. We've already been through this once. She broke my heart... But even though she could list reason after reason to stop, the single reason she had to keep going grew until it was all she could think of. I want this. I want her.

The change in her must have been obvious, because Lexa started kissing her back. A soft tongue swiped along her bottom lip, not demanding entrance, but coaxing her to continue. It was another show of vulnerability and trust, and the ache Clarke had been carrying around in her chest all day finally disappeared. She didn't think she was ready to forgive, but touching Lexa made her feel good. Not just comforted, the way Finn had before his change, or numb, the way Niylah had when she was at her lowest, but good. Safe.

It made no sense. Lexa was the last person she should feel safe around. But kissing Lexa was helping, not hurting, and the warmth pooling at the base of her spine and blossoming between her legs was too powerful to ignore.

Just as she was about to let go of Lexa's hand and wrap an arm around her waist, the mouth beneath hers withdrew. She could feel the shaking heat of Lexa's breath even when they broke apart, but their foreheads remained resting together. She tilted her chin, trying to recapture what she had lost, but Lexa pulled back the slightest bit. "Hod op. Clarke, is this what you want? Am I... what you want?"

Clarke didn't know what she wanted, but she did know what she needed—at least for tonight. Lexa almost died today. I'll probably regret doing this, but I'll regret not doing it more. Her answer was another kiss, even deeper than the first, full of all the fear and relief she had struggled to hold in. This time, Lexa didn't stop her. The great Commander melted, and Clarke felt a shudder pass through the places where their bodies pressed close.

There was no more talking, and their lips remained joined as they stumbled toward the bed. The journey was awkward, their shifting embrace even more so, but it didn't matter. Clarke didn't want to let go. The ache from before had moved downward, and it was much more pleasant. She had known lust could heal a wound, but with Lexa, it was different. It was hunger and regret and something much subtler that she couldn't quite name. Or didn't want to name.

The swirl of need and confusion distracted her long enough for Lexa to break away and place a hand on her chest. She whimpered and started to protest, but swallowed the sound when she understood why. The look Lexa wore was still soft, and there was nothing uncertain about it.

Clarke watched in awe as Lexa slid down the thin straps of her nightgown, revealing the rest of her pale shoulders. The black fabric passed her breasts, high and firm and capped with tight brown nipples, and her stomach, heavily muscled for someone built so lithe. And when it flowed past her narrow hips to pool on the floor, Clarke forgot how to breathe once again.

Beautiful. It wasn't a word she would have used to describe Lexa before, but now, it felt inexplicably right. Lexa was offering everything, making a gift of herself, and it was a gift Clarke couldn't bring herself to reject.

"Clarke," Lexa whispered, fear and hope both wavering in her eyes. "I..."

"Don't. You don't have to explain." Clarke reached for the tie of her own robe, unfastening it with shaking hands. It dropped to the floor to join Lexa's, and though she shook, it wasn't from cold. She folded her arm around Lexa's waist the way she'd wanted to by the door, drawing her in. The feel of Lexa's naked body fitted against hers turned the steadily growing warmth into a blaze. She kissed Lexa again, but this time, it wasn't a request. It was a demand—for Lexa's hands, Lexa's tongue, anything Lexa would give her.

She didn't have to wait long. Lexa's palms explored her sides, starting at her hips and sliding up. They were a little rough at the edges, and the one wrapped in cloth tickled, but they were also incredibly warm, and infinitely gentle. Being treated with such tenderness surprised her, but she found that she didn't mind. The reverent, almost worshipful way Lexa's hands roamed over her body made her shake with desire and set her skin aflame.

"Bed," she murmured into the willing mouth beneath hers, using her own hands to hold fast to Lexa's waist. "We should..."

Lexa nodded in agreement. Her hands moved back down, and Clarke gasped as they hitched beneath her legs. She allowed herself to be tipped back onto the bed, savoring the slight loss of control. It should have been intimidating, allowing Lexa's wiry body to prowl over hers, but the smile on her face was much too sweet. Clarke felt the sudden urge to prop herself on her elbows, surge up, and place another kiss on the black bruise beneath Lexa's bottom lip. But she didn't move, and Lexa simply seemed content to drink her in from above.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Kos yu ste meizen," Lexa whispered, eyes shining in the low candle light.

"Meizen," Clarke repeated, testing the word. "What's that?"

"Because..." Lexa's voice wavered, and she had to swallow before trying again. "Because you're beautiful."

Clarke's face flushed. For several moments, she wasn't sure what to say. It was clear that Lexa wasn't only trying to compliment her appearance, and she didn't want to let something slip in return that she couldn't take back later. In the end, she settled for, "Thank you." It didn't feel quite satisfactory, but she meant it, and she hoped Lexa knew.

The next kiss Lexa gave her wasn't on her lips. A hot mouth found the heartbeat that lived just beneath her jaw, and she shuddered. Lexa's body was still hovering a few inches above hers, and so she wound her arms around the Commander's torso, eager for more contact. When they finally melted into each other, sharing skin at last, Lexa groaned into her throat. It was a noise of pure need, and Clarke reveled in it. It felt much safer to focus on their mutual desire for each other than on their unspoken feelings.

Clarke let her hands wander across Lexa's muscular back, drinking in the contours, eager to see what other sounds she could coax out. Lexa sighed when their legs twined together, and hissed when she introduced the very edges of her nails. The lips on her neck slid lower, leaving a burning trail of open-mouthed kisses, but without a hint of teeth. Lexa was still being gentle with her, and Clarke didn't know whether to be appreciative or frustrated. Frustrated. She's holding back. I can feel how tense the muscles in her shoulders are...

"I won't break," she mumbled, fisting Lexa's hair and drawing her mouth back up for another deep, messy kiss. When it broke apart, they both had to pant for breath. "If we're going to do this, at least fuck me like you mean it."

Lexa's responses were contradictory. Her hips pushed forward, and Clarke sucked in a ragged breath when she felt slickness drag across one of her thighs. But Lexa's brow furrowed, and she appeared uncertain. "Is that really what you want?"

Clarke didn't speak. She simply nodded. Lexa's gentle approach was frightening her almost as much as that stupid spear.

"Den ai na badan yu."

Suddenly, Lexa's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, running along her sides, stroking her shoulders, and cupping her breasts. They were insistent, tinged with more than a hint of desperation, and they were exactly what Clarke needed. She arched to show her approval, raising her knee so Lexa could press harder against it. More wetness ran against her leg, and one of her hands reached down to grip Lexa's ass, urging her to grind.

The low groan she earned was a victory, but only a small one. Lexa's hips jerked once before she regained control of her movements and continued where she had left off. Clarke bit her lip to stifle a sob when Lexa's fingers found her nipples, tugging both points to hardness. Soon, one was enveloped in the warmth of Lexa's mouth, and her own hips started shifting. She couldn't keep them still, and she was relieved when she found purchase against Lexa's firm stomach.

"Lexa," she whispered, afraid that if she didn't say something, she would be reduced to incoherent noises instead. "Keep... keep going..." But it didn't seem as if Lexa had any intention of stopping. Her tongue started swirling, and Clarke felt the swollen bud of her clit throb with jealousy. She grabbed one of Lexa's hands and dragged it between her trembling thighs, guiding it exactly where she needed it.

It only took Lexa's fingers a few seconds to find her. She stiffened when they pulled her outer lips apart, and cried to the ceiling when they dipped down to gather some of her wetness. The touch against her entrance had her hoping for penetration, a stinging stretch she hadn't even known she craved until she was so close to having it. But Lexa moved back up to her clit a moment later, painting over it in swift, smooth circles that made her abdominal muscles jolt. There was purpose in the rhythm, and Clarke had to clench her eyes shut. Her inner walls were already fluttering, and she was afraid if she continued watching, she would lose control much too soon.

Closing her eyes didn't help. She could still feel the warm kisses Lexa scattered across her chest, trailing from one nipple to the other. She could still feel the barest scrape of Lexa's teeth against the side of her breast. She could still feel rough pads of Lexa's fingers rubbing her clit, speeding up whenever her hips did. And worst of all, she could hear and feel the soft words Lexa was muttering against her skin. She didn't know what most of them meant, but one stood out from the rest. "Klark..."

Hearing her own name fall from Lexa's lips was nearly her undoing. She seized Lexa's wrist again, halting her mid-stroke and moving her hand lower. "Inside," she rasped, suddenly desperate for fullness. "Lexa, fill m—"

Lexa pushed past her opening before she could finish the sentence, first with one finger, then two. The stretch soothed her, but only for a moment. She needed movement too. Without even thinking, Clarke wrapped one of her knees around Lexa's waist, pressing up into her to establish a new rhythm. Instead of thrusting along with her, Lexa stayed inside, curling her fingertips as if in search of something. The moment she found it, Clarke screamed, and bright colors flashed behind her eyes. Lexa had found that spot, the one she always tried to hook against when she was touching herself, but had never quite been able to direct a partner to properly. And not only had Lexa found it, but she was hitting it over and over again.

Her peak hit before she realized what was happening, before she could even form Lexa's name. All of a sudden, she was weightless, buoyed by waves of bliss as Lexa's fingers kept curling inside her. Her clit twitched, trapped beneath the pad of Lexa's thumb, and her inner muscles rippled, clenching tight and refusing to let go. Something inside her burst, and she spilled a river of heat into Lexa's hand, shivering wildly. She had never released so much, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

Wh—what's happening? What am I... But it was much too late to worry about the mess. Lexa's fingers were still moving inside her, and the flood refused to stop. She surrendered instead of fighting, riding the powerful swells until she had nothing left to give.

That should have been the end, but by the time the rush of wetness trailed off, Lexa's mouth was already travelling down her stomach. Clarke's hands shot down, fisting Lexa's hair in an attempt to draw her back up, but instead, she found herself pushing the opposite way. Her mind was spinning, but her body knew what it wanted. Just the thought of Lexa's head buried between her legs was almost overwhelming.

And then, she didn't have to imagine it anymore. Hot lips sealed around her clit, and the silk of Lexa's tongue started sliding over it. Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out. She couldn't even breathe. Her entire world dropped straight between her legs, and all she could do was quiver and clutch tight to the back of Lexa's head.

As the minutes passed, Clarke's perceptions began to blur. She wasn't sure whether Lexa was striving to push her over the edge again or striving to keep her from coming too fast. Lexa's lips and tongue were hungry, and Lexa's fingers never stopped pressing into her full front wall, but whenever Clarke drew too close, the pleasure withdrew just enough to keep her hovering on the edge. It was torture, and it was wonderful, and she dug her heels into Lexa's back on instinct.

"Fuck," she gasped, loosening her grip on Lexa's hair and clasping her shoulder instead. The pounding pressure deep within her had returned, even stronger than before, and she was worried about what would happen when it finally released. "Lexa, I'm... I'm going to... again..."

But her stammered warning made no difference. In fact, it made Lexa double her efforts. The Commander drew her clit even deeper, surrounding her with warmth, and the fingers inside her thrust home one more time, curling up hard. Once again, Clarke found herself soaring through a field of stars. Something like Lexa's name broke in her throat, leaving it raw and aching, and another gush of wetness tore from her a heartbeat later. It splashed against Lexa's chin, soaking the lower half of her face and running down onto the sheets in pulsing streams.

She couldn't hold back. For a few beautiful seconds, her need for pleasure, for release, for Lexa completely eclipsed her doubts. She hadn't forgiven, and her wounds hadn't closed, but a hazy thought took shape while her head exploded with light. She'll carry me through this. I trust her. Not completely. Not forever. But for as long as this—whatever it was—lasted.

Her trust was well-placed. Lexa drew out her orgasm for as long as possible, removing her fingers and replacing them with her tongue. It teased the tight ring of muscle at her entrance, sliding forward to taste the tail-end of her release. The hot pressure drew a few more soft spills from deep inside her, and when Lexa's thumb took over the straining point of her clit, rocking it in and out of its thin hood, she shuddered all over again.

It seemed to last forever, but ended far too soon. Just when she was about to beg for mercy, Lexa pulled back. Her eyes were hazy, and her chin dripped with wetness, but a smile stretched across her face—the same soft smile she had worn upon entering the room. "Better?"

Clarke nodded, not trusting herself to speak. After a few more deep breaths, she found her voice. "Yes. I'm, uh... sorry about the mess. I've never come like that before."

For a moment, Lexa's smile turned smug, an unusual expression Clarke hadn't seen her wear before. "Never? Really..."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess this is your day for showing off, isn't it?"

"Following instructions is not showing off, Klark kom Skaikru," Lexa said, still grinning.

"Yeah? Well, I can follow instructions too."

Clarke wound her hand around the back of Lexa's neck, drawing her up for another kiss. It tasted like her, but somehow, that only made it better. Only made it right. She still had no idea what this was, or what would happen the next morning, but she could worry about it in a few hours when the sun rose. If she had regrets, she would deal with them, just like always. It wouldn't be her first mistake, or her last. At least this one had made her feel something good.

"Show me what you want. I've got all night."

Translations:

* Reshop, Heda = Good night, Commander.
* Hod op = Wait.
* Kos yu ste meizen = Because you're beautiful
* Den ai na badan yu = Then I will serve you