This story has mature themes, language, sexual content, and some violence. Please understand that all recognizable ideas from The 100 TV show or the 100 book series belong to their respected owners. This story focuses on Bellarke, and specifically Clarke's ability to overcome a large challenge.
1
Clarke
Clarke took a deep breath, savoring the surely short-lived moment of silence. After days of negotiating with Lexa, the other clan leaders, and her own people, she was exhausted. She and Bellamy were both functioning on minimal sleep and she finally found time for a moment to herself. The past few days had put strain and stress on the two co-leaders, which fortunately took up all their time to focus on their people. The drunken kiss they'd shared just days before their arrival was still an untouched subject between them. She laughed at the sky, baffled at how she and Bellamy were capable of leading an entire group of delinquents, yet unable to maturely address their drink0induced kiss. At least, she thought it was primarily alcohol-induced, on his part for sure. Their responsibility to their people came before any possible feelings they had for each other. Shaking her head, she tried to dismiss those thoughts.
Leaning back against the tree near her, she looked down at the busy people walking about, starting their day. It was early morning, and she'd found her brief moment of solitude at the top of a nearby hill. At the top, she was still able to watch over her makeshift-tent-compound of the remaining 100, but also able to watch the people of Polis prepare for their morning. Not yet accepted as a new clan under Lexa's command, they were not welcome in the city center accommodations. Instead, they resided just outside the busy streets of the Polis market, toward the edge of the city.
Clarke desperately hoped it was finally the day that they reached a conclusion. She and Bellamy were faced with the grim truth that without Lexa's support, they wouldn't survive the upcoming winter. Their original hopes of the Ark citizens descending to Earth with aide were long gone. They never found a way to reunite with the 100 safely, and perished in space. While Clarke obviously grieved for the loss of her mother, part of her was partially mad that they hadn't tried harder to return to Earth. The only explanation she was given was from the last radio communication from her mom. "Plans have changed due to some…conflict up here. It's hard to explain," her mother had said in a defeated voice.
"That's not good enough! Whatever happened, there has to be another way!" she'd shouted regretted that those were the last words spoken between mother and daughter, but they were gone.
Without their help, the 100 had to prepare for winter on their own. An alliance with Lexa gave them a higher chance at survival. There were surely obstacles to face throughout the cold months that they would not know to prepare for, and that had led them to their current situation.
Peering down at the clusters of tents, she saw two people asking Bellamy some questions. Knowing she should probably head down to help coordinate their day, she sat up straight. As much as she wanted to sit alone and rest in silence, she had a duty to their people. "Hello Clarke," a deep voice sounded from the shadows. Her pulse quickened at the realization that she was not alone. Turning her gaze away from the view of Bellamy and her people, she saw a tall man dressed in dark clothing. He had broad shoulders and long, dark hair.
"Nikus," she addressed him with as much confidence as she could gather. He was one of the clan leaders whom did not want Clarke and Bellamy around or part of an alliance in any way.
"What is it that you are doing up here all along? Without the trusted protection of your taller shadow?" He questioned. She was well aware that he was referring to Bellamy, but chose not to answer. "For someone wishing to be recognized as a worthy clan of the commander, you are not very smart. Wandering off on your own with enemies around is pathetically stupid. Did you really think we would let some foreign traitor from the sky join our people? You are murderers." He had started inching closer to her, and she started to stand up.
"We are not murderers, we want peace," she attempted to reason.
"Peace? Was it peace you sought while murdering my village? Peace you sought when homes and families were burnt to the ground?" He had her pinned to the tree which moments ago gave her comfort. She remained frozen, partially in terror of Nikus, and partially in guilt at the sad truth behind his words. She was paralyzed with emotion. "Blood must have blood," he changed in a deep, resonating voice. "If you truly wish to be loyal to our ways, so be it," he added and pulled a knife from his waist. Moving the knife to the top of her cream-colored chest, he smiled. "I shall give you the honor of blood must have blood, but the punishment will be that of a murderer." He pressed the knife into the top of her breast, eyeing the red string of liquid it produced. She winced in response and pleaded both with her eyes and her words, "Please," she managed to choke out, words failing her.
"Begging like the weak woman you are. You don't even deserve the blood." At his words and further pressure of the knife, Clarke screamed. She screamed for her life, she screamed out of fear, and she screamed for the desperate hope that somebody, anybody, would hear.
Bellamy
Bellamy sat in front of the smoldering ashes of the previous night's fire. He sat tying is boots, preparing himself for another day of tedious negotiating. Worry creased his brow when he didn't find Clarke in her tent, but was able to spot her blonde locks at the top of the hill near the forest. Before his mind even had the chance to drift back to their one and only kiss prior to their arrival to Polis, Jasper interrupted his thought train. "How much longer are we going to be the outcasts of the edge here?" Jasper inquired.
"As long as it takes," he responded gruffly. Truth was, they were nearing the change of seasons. Winter would soon be on its way, and he knew the leaves turning color meant it would be soon. He studied Jasper and Monty, who had decided to join their morning conversation, with a tight expression. "It's not something we can rush, we need their-" his sentence was interrupted by a loud shriek. He knew that voice, and his heart immediately dropped. "Clarke," he said before taking off towards the hill.
"Clarke!" he shouted as he made it to the top of the hill. Half into the forest's border, he found her on the ground with one of the clan leaders on top of her. Not hesitating, he tackled the man to the ground and quickly removed the knife from his hand. It did not go unnoticed that the blade was coated in blood. The grounder was not an easy fight, and they both struggled on the ground before Bellamy finally got an opening to stab him in the shoulder. Nikus, he recognized, had enough strength to still fight back until Bellamy stabbed him a second time, that wound in his knee.
Satisfied that he wasn't going anywhere and was too weak to attack, Bellamy turned his attention to a still creaming Clarke. He took in her bloody appearance. His eyes instantly focused on the blood between her legs. His worst thoughts confirmed by her cries and evidence of what the grounder had done, he saw red. Clarke's broken cry of, "Bellamy," was the only thing that stopped his hands from finishing off Nikus right then and there. He knelt down next to her, unable to process the sobs and shaking that her body emitted. Tears streamed down her face as she moved into the fetal position on the ground. He reached out to her to find her gripping at his shift. Monty had made his way up the hill then, and gasped at the sight. "Get the healer," Bellamy commanded as he handled Clarke's shaking form.
"Jasper already went to find him," Monty responded and Clarke screamed louder at Monty's voice. Bellamy pulled her up and held her close, whispering in her ear that it would be okay—even though he knew it probably wouldn't. Nikus lay a few yards away groaning in pain, and Bellamy knew there would be consequences for his actions.
"Don't let anyone else up here that doesn't need to be. They don't need to see her like this," he instructed. Monty nodded at his words and looked down at Clarke. Moving closer to also offer comfort, Monty's actions were met with louder screams and sobs from her, causing him to jump back. "Shhh," Bellamy tried to calm her. It unnerved him to see her so hysterical and he cursed himself for not walking up the hill the second he spotter her sitting alone. Maybe then it wouldn't have happened. He should have made sure she had a knife, or gun, or some sort of weapon. He knew she put on a tough front for their people, and for their reputation to the clans and Lexa. Truth was, she was just as human as everyone else. She grieved, cried, and she had weak moments just like the rest of them. Unfortunately, hers held significantly worse consequences this time.
It didn't take long until one of Lexa's healers was present, and brought with two other men to assist him. Bellamy rushed out what had happened, explaining as much detail as he could to the older man currently assessing Clarke's injuries. He held onto her upper body tight as she sobbed into his chest. "We need to move her. Adan, Mikel," the healer gestured to his assistants. Clarke's grip tightened on Bellamy at their advancement.
"I'll carry her," he insisted and hoisted the princess into his arms as they made their way to one of the healer's small huts used for patients.
Bellamy saw Adan and Mikel pick up Nikus from the pool of blood saturating the dirt, and bring him in a different direction. They quickly reached the hut and went inside. The healer motioned for him to set her down on a bed I the dimly lit hit. "You may need to hold her down." He instructed.
"Why? What are her injuries?" Bellamy asked in a demanding voice.
"I'm not sure yet, but even just a few minutes in her presence and it's clear that she is both emotionally and physically injured. Please," the healer gestured to the headboard. Bellamy, with Clarke still holding onto him, took a seat at the head of the bed with Clarke's form lying down. "I need to clean the wounds, and do a quick exam of the damage. She is not the first woman here in Polis to suffer an event like this."
Clarke
Clarke couldn't breathe, think, or cease the shattering sobs from escaping from her body. Nikus's attack and actions had left her in a hysterical shock. Of course, once the realized his intentions she fought back. She kicked, hit, grabbed, and gouged. However, the blade piercing her skin had complicated her defense. Only when she felt the comforting arms of Bellamy did she let herself completely go. She remembered being carried won the hill and into one of the healer's huts. The first few minutes in the hut were a blur, and she primarily focused on the warmth of Bellamy holding on to her. It wasn't until the healer's hands touched at her thighs did she truly lose it. She screamed even louder, cried harder, and fought against him. She then felt Bellamy move directly behind her back against the headboard and attempt to hold her still. The reassurances he spoke into her ear didn't register. Through her own tears she could see him looking down at her through his teary eyes, but her attention as then brought back to the assaulting doctor. The last words she heard were Bellamy's desperate plea to the doctor saying, "Can't you give her something!?" After sour tasting liquid entered her mouth, she was quickly swept into a dreamless sleep.