She's one of the first to crest the sand dune, and it doesn't matter how many books she's read or films she's watched, she was not prepared. Not even slightly. She comes from space - she knows what it means to observe something seemingly infinite… But 'infinite' looks different somehow when you're standing on the ground.
The wide expanse rolls on forever, flooding off the very edges of the world, and she's never seen so much water, never understood just how magnificent a giant salty lake could seem. Waves shimmer violet and dusky gold as the sun begins its descent behind them, and the beauty is unparalleled, indescribable; almost too much for her sheltered soul to take.
It reminds her of the very first day this crazy journey began; doors to the drop ship opening, light flooding in with a warmth they'd never known... And against all odds the world was there - very much alive, and waiting for them. And by the gods, even in all its terror it was beautiful. She feels that same wonder now, that same aching joy at the sight of the ocean - they all do - and the remaining 100, these forsaken delinquents from the sky, are suddenly children again, pouring down the dunes towards the call of a wondrous world.
As they reach the flat of the beach their stride falters, distrust overtaking excitement. But from amidst the hesitant ranks an unbreakable pair shoot through and dash to the water's edge - one with the fearless speculation of a scientist, the other with the recklessness of irrepressible curiosity. Monty, always the more cautious and thoughtful of the two, hesitates at the strand, his fingers tracing across the rubble of shells cracking beneath his boots; cataloguing and exclaiming as he goes. But Jasper wades right in, whooping in delight.
'We're alive!'
He's down in seconds of course, legs caught in the unfamiliar power of water that is truly, irrefutably a force of nature; coming up spluttering only to be flattened beneath an incoming wave. Despite the horrors of the past few days, Monty loses it to laughter at the sight of his best friend flopping and rolling in the shallows.
Ultimately its Octavia who takes mercy on him, wading forward with an expression of amused exasperation to drag an utterly bedraggled Jasper to his feet and back to shore, where he coughs seawater and kisses onto the still-warm ground.
'Never, ever let me do that again,' he gasps raggedly.
'You're not going to let a little wave beat you, right?' she teases, bending to ruffle her fingers through his shaggy hair so that showers of damp grit tumble out.
'Come on,' she urges, 'try again. I'll keep you from drowning.' Her eyes spark and mesmerise as she laughs, and yet again she has her fingers hooked inside his soul.
'For you, my Queen,' he acquiesces, grasping her outstretched hand and collecting his lanky limbs with exaggerated ineptitude, before shaking his head like a wet dog and showering her in spray.
Octavia's eyes narrow, meeting Monty's with a wicked gleam. Seconds later Jasper's back beneath the waves, dragged forward by the combined efforts of both his closest friends. A squealing crush of teenagers follow in their wake.
On the beach Bellamy strides briskly back and forth along the strand line, rifle still loaded in his hands as he bellows warnings like a hassled father with too many children to mind.
'Keep it under control guys, it's not a pond. No one here can swi- hey! Get that kid's head back out of the water!'
Clarke trails him with her eyes, restraining a smile. 'Bellamy…'
He cranes his head to watch those at the front of the pack. 'No one's to go out any further than where Octavia's standing.'
'Bellamy.'
'Octavia, cut it out. No further, do you hear me?'
Timing her interception, Clarke catches him as he turns, seizing him by the arms as he barrels forcefully into her, holding back laughter even as she berates him. 'Tone it down there, mother hen. This is their first time seeing the ocean, let them have this moment.'
He scoffs, his gaze drawn inexorably back to the waves where his sister screams with laughter. 'Let them drown in it more like. It's getting dark and all their clothes are wet - they're gonna freeze come nightfall.'
'Then we'll build a fire-'
Another cluster of curious teens jog past them towards the shallows and he interrupts her to resume his tirade.
'Woah, woah, slow down! All jackets on the beach first.' He's shaking the rifle in emphasis as he points at the sand, and they scurry to obey, eyes like saucers. 'At least something'll be dry…' he mutters and she punches him sharply on the arm.
'You're scaring them.'
'I'm scaring them-' he shakes his head and side-steps past her.
'Where are you going?'
'To set up a perimeter watch.'
She grabs his shoulder but it's not enough, and she's forced to swing in front of him once more, hands splaying across his chest as she digs her heels into the sand, concern finally filtering through the marvel of the moment.
'Bellamy. Hey, it's over. We've made it. You can stop fighting now.'
He frowns at her interception. 'This is Earth, Princess, we've done nothing but fight since the moment we got here. That's not about to change.'
'We've out run them, Bellamy. Anya won't pursue us into another tribe's territory, it's not worth her while. Take a moment to appreciate that.'
'You underestimate the power of vengeance.'
'Perhaps… but I'm not underestimating the power of reprieve.'
He scoffs, and it's silly but his dismissal hurts. Normally she'd be on his side, all seriousness and survival and foes at every turn. But they've earned this day - paid for it with precious lives and miles of ceaseless trekking and blood that spills as easily as sweat and tears - and she will not let it pass unmarked from all the rest.
'Listen to me,' she pleads, curling his hands against his abdomen, clutching at the tattered fabric of his shirt. 'This world is a place of life - and we've forgotten that. Look at that. The ocean. Did you ever think you'd see such wonders? We can't forget why we came down here, regardless of all the politics and posturing, we were given a second chance - to live. So how about we try.'
He's staring at her in that way he sometimes does, like his gaze is falling directly on her heart and seeing all manner of truths and scars and beauties that she'd rather keep inside.
A particularly loud burst of euphoria turns both their heads towards the sea. Jasper is re-emerging, buoyed with new confidence, loping up the beach to where Raven and Finn rest amongst those too tired or injured to brave the swim. He bows his head as he talks, dripping water over them like a jubilant raincloud, and after a moment's pause, Raven's ashen face nods. Together, Jasper and Finn help her to her feet, take a side each and carry her into the waves; further and further out until her legs are kicking gently in the swirling waters and her fingers carve ribbons through the froth and swell. And she is transformed. Once more reminiscent of the girl Clarke found alive against all odds in the wreckage of a smoking pod ship; a girl who twirled beneath the drizzle of her first rain; who revelled in the beauty of an unfamiliar earth and was unafraid of all its wonders.
Clarke turns once more to the leader at her side, and reaching gently forward wraps her hands around the rifle.
'We can have fun.' She tugs and he reluctantly relinquishes the weapon. 'We can remember how to do that.'
The weapon sighs as she lets it fall into the sand. Hands trembling ever so slightly, she laces her fingers around Bellamy's wrist and draws him to the sea.
The first touch of the water is a shock; breathlessly cold and possessively strong, wrapping around their ankles with hungry curiosity. She pulls them deeper until the waves froth and foam at their waists and as their skin adjusts and the icy pain ebbs all that remains in the pure, invigorating novelty of it all. She's walking backwards as she pulls him in, all the better to watch the changes in his eyes, and she's not expecting the strength of the wave as it rises up behind her and slaps her forward. He catches her awkwardly, one arm wrapped around her back, the crown of her head butting sharply against his chin. Its unintentional to say the least but she doesn't push away, because there's so many things she wants to say to him, so many kinds of 'thank you' that there just aren't enough words to express. So instead she lets the power of nature rule a little longer, holding them together in a warmth that is unexpectedly calming. She's not afraid to look up while their bodies are so near. She knows him too well for shyness; there are no secrets that such closeness will unveil.
'Glad you came in?' she asks.
And when all he says is 'thank you' it takes her by surprise.
Until he smiles, of course… and then she truly knows how it feels to still your very heart in reverence of beauty; because with one simple expression he is a different man and the world is a different place.
And its hope, this feeling unfurling inside of her.
Because there is still beauty to be discovered and peace to be found, even in the aftermath of war.
Because a rebel can become an ally, and a group of misfits a family.
And simply because she hasn't seen that many smiles since they landed here on Earth, but as she thinks back upon them all she knows that this - right here - is her favourite.
Eventually they struggle back to the beach and begin to coordinate the fire, unloading supplies and setting up camp as leaders must. In dribs and drabs the others too are washed ashore, and perhaps it's too many stories and legends stirring in her head, but they seem reborn from the water; younger once more, and renewed with that mysterious spark that we know as 'life'. And as they gather round the warmth of the flames and share their meagre food, she takes comfort in the knowledge that they are - none of them - broken beyond repair. That the saltwater is enough to heal their bloodstained hearts.
A/N: As always, comments (however long or short) absolutely make my day and inspire me to continue writing. They are very much appreciated!