Clarke always knew she was a natural born leader, it's in her genes, her mother and her father both worked in the council and that was the path destined for her- until her father was floated and she was sent to solitary confinement, waiting on death row for the day of her execution which was cruelly on her eighteenth birthday, just like the rest of them. No chance for her becoming a councillor after her 'crimes', which in her terms weren't crimes and neither were her fathers.
The 100 had been sent to earth as opposed to being killed and sent into the atmosphere. Clarke was glad she chose the latter but couldn't help thinking that it might have just been easier for her to die instead. Her birthday was coming up soon, in fact, quite a few were. Most were turning eighteen in less than a few months and there were a few younger people of whom ranged from the ages of thirteen to sixteen. There was one odd one out though, Bellamy Blake being twenty one years old made him the oldest of the group therefore inevitably being chief alongside Clarke.
The 100 had been on the ground for exactly thirty two days. That's 768 hours. Of what? Total chaos, that's what. Bellamy and Clarke rarely got along and when they did it was for the sake of the camp. She can't deny that they've definitely started to see eye to eye with each other more; getting out of each others way and respecting decisions and opinions that the other had, but there was still the underlying fact that could not be denied, Bellamy believed violence was the way to deal with things on the ground whereas Clarke was very much prone to talking it out. Both knew that sometimes it depends on the situation. It didn't matter about their choices when it came to the grounders, violence or not, the grounders were to backing down and it was quickly becoming a huge trouble in camp.
They were losing people at a slow but scary pace. Bellamy once said to Clarke, "eighteen dead," to which she replied, "eighty two alive." Clarke needed him and had admitted it to him before. They all needed him and although Bellamy was reluctant to admit it to himself let alone the camp, they needed her too. He knew he only came here for Octavia and he told himself that he cared for no one else, but deep down he knew that that wasn't true. He cared for Clarke, maybe as a friend, maybe as something more, either way, he couldn't handle it if she was to die. It would not only make it harder in camp but he would miss her beyond the point he ever intended.
"You know, it's pretty cold out here, you could get hypothermia," Bellamy stated, plopping down on the log opposite her.
She looked up from the fire and straight at him. They both looked a mess, they were clearly beyond tired and unavoidably stressed out from the events of the past month. She shrugged her shoulders and slumped back down into her position.
"What do we do when the rest of them get here?" Clarke asked, finally speaking up. "I mean, we spent a damn lot of hard work creating this camp and getting everyone in line, we've gathered resources and worked out a sustainable ration and chore system. Are we really going to let the councillors come and act as if they're the ones who did all of this? They're going to overrule us and take charge. We won't be able to do anything to stop it."
Bellamy chuckled, "I wouldn't worry, Princess, I'm sure your mom wouldn't let anything bad happen to her precious little girl."
"This isn't a joke, Bellamy. I know you think I'm some sort of spoiled brat but I'm not. Jesus Christ, I spent almost a year in a goddamn cell! Do you really think the rulers of the kingdom would lock up their own princess?"
Bellamy looked down. He supposes she was right. He was lucky in the sense that he was never jailed. He sure as hell got his punishment though. His mother excited and his sister taken away from him is definitely not his idea of bliss.
"Besides," Clarke continued, " I don't need any help from my mother."
"Look, Clarke they have nowhere to lock us up, we can easily tell them that they can't stay here if they're not willing to co-operate with our terms. Don't worry about it, really."
She let out a small nod before sighing and melting further down into the position she was sitting in.
"You should get some rest. What's a princess without her beauty sleep?" Bellamy teased, smirking at her.
The nickname 'Princess' started off as an insult, calling her privileged and spoilt but it was now used because she was in almost a literal sense the princess of the camp and also to him, she looked like a princess. Blonde wavy hair with bright blue eyes just screamed 'princess' to him. It didn't bother her. The underlying context that began it does but knowing
that it's just something that had caught on made it irritate her no longer.
"I can hardly sleep anymore. You know when I was a kid if I couldn't sleep, I'd just snuggle in bed with my parents. If it wasn't them it'd be Wells."
Bellamy grimaced which Clarke picked up on and quickly corrected herself. "Not in that way, of course! We were kids and it didn't mean anything really. Anyway, I don't know, I guess if I was ever unable to sleep, just knowing someone was beside me was enough to make me forget."
As much as Bellamy wanted to donate his presence to her as she slept he knew that's not what she wanted. It would be weird to say and it was hardly appropriate for the two leaders to be sleeping together- platonic or not. So instead he nodded along with her.
"Why don't you ask Finn?"
Clarke glared up at him. "You know why I don't ask Finn."
"Oh, right yeah, I forgot."
He didn't, he very much remembered, he was just hoping she'd say something like 'I don't like Finn' or 'i don't want to sleep with him,' but no such luck so for now he sat in silence, the only sound coming from the roaring flames that soared in front of their eyes.