Lexa Woods, an impeccably dressed British secret agent for the covert Kingsman organisation, whose latest mission sees her sneaking through the corridors of the White House in the middle of the night, finds herself having to seduce the daughter of the newly elected President of the United States in a bid to save the world. It’s a surprise to Lexa when she ends up falling for her target as fast as she does, meanwhile Clarke doesn’t expect her gorgeous date for an international political gala dinner to drag her into a world of thrill and danger where one wrong move could cause a global disaster.
the edit of Lexa in the tuxedo used above was done by the amazingly talented @thecrimsonknight who i am in awe of
“Dating women is just so much hassle,” complains Clarke.
“It’s non-stop drama. Sometimes I don’t know why I bother.”
It’s a complete lie. From Clarke’s experiences of dating
both men and women, it’s always the guys that cause drama-fuelled relationship,
throwing tantrums like bratty toddlers if they don’t get what they want, or if
they run out of hair product, or if they get a tiny fleck of dirt on their
pristine shoes. But for now, when Clarke is trying to get Roan on side by
trash-talking Lexa, it’s what she says, and Roan seems to drink it all right
up.
“I know what you mean,” he agrees in a gruff voice. “Some
women are very high maintenance. Not you, obviously. You’re very down to
earth.”
To maintain the fragile peace between north and south, Clarke of House Tyrell is sent to live in Winterfell as an act of faith between the two kingdoms. There, she is put under the protection of the first queen in the north, Queen Lexa of House Stark, Daughter of Wolves. A woman draped in steel and silver, wolves at her heels and rumoured to be a manifestation of the fury of the old gods; Clarke refuses to be awed be her quiet violence and cold smile. Instead of fostering unity, the meeting of the wolf and the rose lights a spark that spreads through the rest of Westeros, threatening to burn it to the ground.
The next day dawns cold and white, a heavy cloud settling across the sky with the sort of peace that Lexa knows means snow. She can taste it in the air as she walks from her chambers in the King’s Tower, to the Lord Commander’s solar. Inside, it is warm with the flickering fire and Clarke already sits at a heavy round table, with the Lord Commander beside her, talking jovially, though they both fall quiet at her entrance, standing before she can gesture them back into their seats.
“Please,” She offers them both a friendly smile, sinking into the final seat at the table. “I think I am friends enough with both of you to dispel of those courtesies. Sit, eat, continue.”
“Thank you, your majesty.” The Lord Commander answers roughly, sinking into his seat again.
Clarke offers her a smile, their eyes meet and something small and secret passes between them even as Clarke sits and greets her.
“Your majesty, I hope the morning finds you well.”
“Very well, and yourself Lady Clarke?” Her lips take on something close to a smirk at the formality they wear around the Lord Commander.
“Well,” Clarke reaches for her goblet, “The northern air agrees with me.”
Technically 47 hours and 35 minutes. But not that Lexa is counting. No. Of course not. She’s not the type that would actively avoid making the most significant decision of the life by counting down the minutes until the ever-looming deadline.
No. She’s not that type of person.
Lexa’s eyes wander over towards the large clock above the classroom door for the 50th time since the start of the period.
47 hours and 34 minutes.
“Miss Woods,” Dr. Kane calls out from the front of the room.
Lexa snaps out of her thoughts, instantly aware that all eyes – including the pair of crystal blues ones residing beside her – are focused in on her.
ReallyGroovyNinja 