N/A: Hello, grounders! This is my first fanfiction of The 100. I must confess that I am pretty nervous and pretty intimidated by the hugeness of Clexa's fandom. I hope you guys enjoy it.

VERY IMPORTANT:

1. The whole apocalyptic bullshit of s4 does not exists here.
2. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAAAGE. I'm doing my best here, and I'm really sorry for any typos and grammatical errors (I don't have a beta reader and stuff, and that sucks)
3. I trully have a thing for angst, so I've decided to explore a little more the biggest shit that Jason has ever made.

4. SEXUAL CONTENT!

When Sky meets Earth, there is a Lightning

I

I've learned here, at the ground, that two months is a hell lot of time.

Leave alone two years.

It's been two years since Lexa is gone.

And with this two years, a lot of changes.

Alie was destroyed; Luna has become the new commander; Ice Nation finally accepted a peace offer; The Ark has settled as the thirteen clan… And beside the first eightmonths, everyone seems to be safe.

Raven is like a goddess of wisdom and technology among the grounders – she has created a group of students to learn and develop technologic tools. Abby and Kane are right now the delegates of our people on the coalition. Jasper is a little bit friendly and quit drinking. Monty, Bellamy, and everybody… Well, they seem fine.

Even myself, sometimes… I can feel myself pretty fine.

But just sometimes.

II

There are some days that I'm okay. I can laugh, I can see the colors through the woods and above the clouds, I can even smell a thousand scents of a thousand places. I almost can feel myself alive.

Then I remember of her.

And then there are some days that I can't even breathe without feeling her all around me. It's like breathing smoke: suffocating, painful, desperate.

Sometimes when it's too dark to see anything, Octavia helps me at those moments. She helps me and I trust her to help me because sometimes I help her too. She holds my hand and whispers softly until I can breathe well again.

(People now know that she is a truly grounder, dangerous as a hungry panther.)

(They forgot that she is in pain. Too.)

(Maybe it's because she hides it too well.)

(Maybe not.)

She whispers, softly, drawing lazy circles on the back of my hand: "Deep breaths, Clarke."

We breathe together.

She used to cry with me. But for Lincoln.

Used to.

Now she just tell me to breathe. I cried for both of us.

III

One day, I went to Polis. I've never get back since our final battle against Alie.

I couldn't go there. To Polis.

To Lexa's kingdom. To Lexa's place.

Lexa's safe house.

There were too many memories.

I've sent my apologies for my absence on Luna's ascension day. I was relieved for her – for her finally has took her place. For finally having a wise commander to give us some peace, to give us some silence. I was proud, I was glad.

But I wasn't healed.

It took me two years, one month and twenty-six days to go back there.

And even so, Luna has received me kindly. She was always formal but with some warm inside her eyes. We didn't talked too much.

She took me to Lexa's room. "I would not dare to occupy the room where the previous commander died", she said to me while we walked. Grounder superstition.

When we reached the place, she asked to me if I needed to be alone – I've nodded and then she went out, leaving only two guards standing behind the door.

It were like a punch in the guts.

Deep breaths, Clarke.

IV

The nights that I can sleep better is the stormy nights.

It's when the rain and wind, and water, and every chaos that comes with the storm kicks everything out of the way. It's when rocks, dirt and sticks jump and swirls and hit the Ark's old structures making a metallic noise. It's when the lightning and the thunder comes and makes me deaf to my own thoughts.

It's when is too noisy to think, and too silent to scream.

Right after I entered the room, the rain has fallen down from the sky – the clouds made a low grunt and started to bump into each other. The storm was coming.

I would like to be superstitious as Luna.

My mind screamed: It's Lexa, it's Lexa. Lexa is here.

Lexa is here.

Lexa is here.

But it was a silly thought, to believe that Lexa's spirit has invoked that storm – or maybe all the previous storms. It was bullshit

But still…

I don't know when, or how, or why, but every time when the storm comes and goes through the night, I remember of her.

Lexa is here, my mind screams.

Lexa is here: On the furs of her bed, inside the wax of the old burned candles, mixed with the dust particles on the floor, floating on the air with the oxygen.

I can touch her when my fingertips brushes the wooden headboard, I can feel the memory of her skin when I lay down, also the memory of her calloused fingers when the resected furs embraces my back.

I can feel a breath of a kiss when my mind deceive me pretending that this old smell of mold would keep a hint of her perfume.

Closing my eyes, I can remember.

Through the furious storm, I can see behind my eyelids.

Through the lightning illuminating that dark and morbid room, I can meet her again.

V

To take Lexa on your arms is like take the nature.

Lexa is a furious goddess, but full of vanity, an eccentric animal with its own whims. An unforgettable lover, owner of an incontrollable lust.

But at the same time... At the same time… She is gentle.

She is gentle as the breeze, gentle with her fingers navigating through the domains of my body – domains which are hers, now. She makes me as her kingdom.

I kissed her like the world was about to end right there. And it did was. I knew that maybe it was the last time in a long period I would saw her, so… Why do not enjoy?

Why do not, finally, oh, finally, talk to her what was stuck inside my chest?

Actually, better than talk to her:

Show her.

I stole her lips and she stole my sighs. I swirled on her arms. She took me to herself as the abysm took who dares to look down.

I've let myself fall.

I've threw myself on the abysm of Lexa's caresses.

And when I reached the bottom, my body has fused with the earth: The earth which is Lexa.

I was on top of her, with my legs straddling her hips as an anchor holding on the sea rocks, and, still, she lifted me with strong hands and shifted us around, changing our positions, dominating me completely – holding my wrists above my head, keeping me in position, back flat against the furs.

She was facing me.

Heavy breathing.

Dilated pupils.

Parted lips.

She was thirsty.

And so was I.

- Lexa... – I've called, voice fragile as a thread, and she, so faithfully, come to my encounter. Our lips met again as the same time I've got lost on that trail that she made with her fingertips – leaving fire tracks where she pass through.

I wasn't controlling my body anymore – it asked, pleaded, vociferated for Lexa. Lexa, Lexa.

Lexa.

And she answered – her body answered mine. As drops of paint looking for each other on a canvas, two tones embracing lovely, she looked for me – and that mess of hairs, sweats, breathes, skins, saliva, has created a third one… So beautiful.

An imprecise third tone, imprecise as the color of my hair mixed with hers, as the taste of her saliva in contact with my salty skin. She was going south, south, sliding her tongue through my jaw and reaching my neck, clavicles – and she wanted more, so much more. We wanted more.

As an empress who claims her victory, she almost rip my clothes off my body – obstacles, obstacles – and I've pulled hers in a rush, eagerly, boldly.

Fast, fast, we don't have much time.

We don't have much time.

But even all the time of the world wouldn't be enough to recover what was lost.

What was lost...

Lexa...

And to thought I've almost lost Lexa.

- Shhhh... I'm here, Clarke. – She whispered, and right after she returned her attentions to my bare body. That brief comment was enough to make me shudder. Exposed, naked, trembling... Lexa was reading me perfectly as the open book that my body was for her.

She knew that I didn't wanted to lose her.

She knew.

She always knew.

Through that chaos of liquids, movements and sounds, Lexa – who was already peppering languid kisses among the swell of my breasts – came back to face me again. Those eyes – two dense emeralds – invaded me without asking for permission. Again.

And I've drowned again.

She came closer and closer until almost connect our lips, too close – the precise distance of the-breath-before-the-kiss. She murmured:

- Turn around.

I was too hypnotized to notice that her request was kinda weird – But I've followed her demand anyway, closing my eyes. What she was about to do? It didn't mattered. Nothing mattered since Lexa were here. Lexa, Lexa, Lexa – she was the only thing I was thinking about, repeating, incessantly, madly. Lexa, Lexa, Lexa.

Lexa.

She raised her hips for a brief moment – steading herself by her elbows, I turned around below her, lying flat with my torso against the furs. Then she hovered me with her body again – It was like an electric discharge running through my veins at the moment our bodies were connected by that new position. A different way of fit in, and, oh, so more intense, inebriant.

She held my wrists again, steading herself on her knees and sitting on my ass. As I moaned with the movement, she spreaded kisses along my back – paying more attention to my scars, marks, bruises and wounds, which I've owned since my arrival on earth.

She breathed in, absorbing each perfume, particle, sensation that my pores could offer.

She breathed out, the hot and thick air leaving her mouth and snaking, waking my tiniest hairs of my neck, feeding the heat between my legs.

She spent long seconds savoring this rhythm – breathing in, breathing out, breathing in, breathing out – until my own breath got lost somewhere inside that pulsation. I was panting, grasping on my pillow until my fingers started to hurt, looking for something, anything, that could stop me of melting right there, below Lexa's skilled movements.

Breathing in, she murmured sweet nothings between kisses – something between English and Trigedasleng, scratching and nipping and licking.

Breathing out, she moved her hips slowly and suggestively against mine – connecting our bodies.

Connecting them oh, so damn well.

Her heat grinding against my ass, suggesting movements that invoked that primal nature…

She was calling a storm inside me, coaxing my senses to give up on control.

She was the earth – oh, the so strong earth, with her woods and lands and mountains and mysteries, and animals running wild.

- Lexa, yes… - I moaned, and she improved her rocking. She reached for my wrists, intertwining our hands and pulling them to bellow my chest, holding them there as she hided her face on the crook of my neck. She didn't answered, she just kept rocking, and rocking, burning my whole body with her crotch rubbing so intensely against my skin.

She was silent in her pleasure, only gasping, only feeling myself collapse bellow her. She was the earth, swallowing my moans and whines and yelps.

She was the earth, embracing my roots and feeding my heat as the wood feeds the fire.

She was the earth, earthquaking against me.

And I?

I was the sky. With the clouds bumping into each other, making mess and creating rain. Sweating, soaking everything. Groaning and whispering through the forest.

I was the sound, and she was the movement.

I was the air and she was the land.

Sky and Earth, creating storm. Creating friction and chaos ignited by passion, pleasure, and sex, and lust.

And when the sky meets the earth?

- Oh my god, oh my god!

There is a lightning.

Ripping the sky and reaching the earth furiously, illuminating the darkness and incinerating the trees – the lightning comes and strikes everything with its strength.

And the earth swallows it, embraces it as it son.

I've kept my eyes shut, incapable of trusting on my vision. I was just feels. Just the feeling, the physical feeling of Lexa grinding against me steadily until my point of obliviousness. I moaned and trembled as she held me there, collapsing a little bit after me but oh, so, deliciously. She held me there, with her lips trembling on my pulse point. She held me there, steading her breath with mine. She held me there, her thigs loose and liquid between mine.

She held me.

She just held me.

And I was oh, falling into pieces.

I was the silent Sky, raining the remains of a tempestuous night.

- Ai hod yu in, Clarke.

She was the earth, embracing the drops of my chaos – creating life and glow from them.

And when the sky meets the earth,

I can meet her again.

VI

- Clarke?

- Yes?

- We need to leave before the storm returns.

- Okay.

Silence.

The breeze whistling at the window.

- Clarke?

- Hm?

A brief pause.

- Can you feel her here, Clarke?

A sob leaves my throat.

- I can feel her everywhere.

(She's the earth.)

tell me what you think?