She's Royal
Clarke slugged her aching body along one of the abandoned streets in the little garden of Eden where she had made a home for herself and Madi; overgrown as it was, her tired limbs knew where they were going - knew where he would be. Her cut palms pressed along the faded finish of a white panel door and as its creaking hinges were put under stress, her broken gaze was forced upon the man she would always need. He was sat dejectedly on an old coffee table in what once appeared to be a love filled family room.
"Bellamy." Her voice was hoarse from crying. He gasped back tears and looked at Clarke with a forlorn expression. Clarke had seen Bellamy at his lowest before but never like this.
"She didn't wake up Clarke, I killed…" His voice broke and he tore his gaze away from his estranged best friend out of shame. He'd failed. My sister, my responsibility. Clarke didn't know what to say at first but she soon realised that in this moment, like always, they both needed each other again.
"Abbie's dead." She shrugged a little too nonchalantly, tears running down her face. "The pills…" There wasn't going to be a perfect time to announce a thing like this. More tears burned in Bellamy's eyes as Clarke strode towards him to run her fingers through his mess of dark curls.
"I think your sister became lost to us a long time ago, Bellamy." They cried; her, standing between his open thighs, both, reassuring the other. "And I'm sorry for that. I'm not sorry that you saved everyone, you saved Madi…maybe you saved Octavia from herself, I don't know. People might not see that but it's true. The world's at peace…for once."
A heartbroken sob left Bellamy's mouth and Clarke let one out of her own just hearing his torment.
"Ssh, it's okay." She hushed.
"If this is how we were always meant to get peace, I don't fucking want it, Clarke!" He cried, grasping her closer to his chest, squeezing her legs between his own.
"It's utterly fucked, I know." She wept. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Bell." For a while Bellamy didn't say a word after that, only clung onto one of the few things he had left on the ground. Clarke. It was only after his head dropped in exhaustion, settling his worried forehead between the shallow valley of her breasts did he speak.
"The world's in mourning, Princess." Clarke's fingers fell from his hair and ran down to the back of his sweat stung neck and tilted his tear-stained face up towards her own.
"It won't be forever." Clarke spoke with conviction for the first time in, what felt like, a lifetime. "I spoke to you every day for six years, Bellamy, and I didn't even know if you were alive. And now you're here. There's no one for us to fight, for once, we won't have to struggle to survive in the foreseeable future and I will not let you wallow in the shadow of your own guilt. If you need forgiveness…" Clarke's eyes fell closed from fatigue for only a moment before she looked back at him with the fiercest gaze she could only ever give to someone like Bellamy Blake. "…I will always give that to you."
A silent agreement was made and confirmed with a stiff but emotional nod.
"Clarke, your mom…I'm sorry." He rose above her small height and wrapped his arms around her and they just stood there, surrounded by a silent hum of calmness and they relished in it. The feeling of just holding one another again, like this, after so much violence, too much surviving and not enough living, it was surreal. He lived for these hugs with her. What else has there been? Chaos.
...
A deep reggae beat started from somewhere down the street – Murphy, Raven and Madi had been bonding recently, begging Monty to get the old turn table up and running. Clarke had acquired it sometime ago, along with a few salvaged 12-inch records. How they survived, she'll never know. Then again, how had anything? How had they, when so many were lost?
Clarke and Bellamy leant away from each other and allowed themselves a small smile and deep drink in of the other's face…
"Let's go." Clarke's fingers intertwine with his and she goes to lead him back towards their family but Bellamy doesn't budge.
"No." She's stunned for a moment before he reaches out for her wrist. "Stay. Just…stay, Clarke." He said her name the way he most often said it, with a lump in his throat. And she just stepped in towards him, towards home.
It takes them a beat to digest but as the song goes on they just sink into it like and old arm chair and begin to sway with the long-forgotten melody.
She's royal yeah, so royal
And I need her in my life
I never knew anyone, so one of a kind
Until the night that I see in your eyes
Bellamy's arms come from around Clarke and he spins her, she huffs out a laugh saturated with a foreign, light-hearted feeling and wipes a few stray tears from her cheeks then Bellamy brings her in close and catches the ones she has missed with a calloused thumb. Rough and warm…just like his heart, she thought.
"I've never danced with anyone before." She admitted.
"I used to with O. When she was still…"
"When she was still the girl under the floor." Clarke finished for him. He nodded.
"Princess…" He sighs as his freckled nose rubbed along the side of hers.
"Hmm?" Clark hummed in acknowledgement, eyes closed.
"Can we not make it difficult for ourselves this time? Please."
"What do you mean?" Clarke looked up at him in confusion. Bellamy didn't even blink. He leant down and kissed her like he's meant to have done it his whole life, the whole time he's been on the ground.
"I missed you." Clarke said to him as she stepped half a step back and placed his hand on her own hips, just under the hem of her worn out vest. Bellamy took his time now that he had it. As his hands scaled the planes of her stomach, his tongue found her bee-stung bottom lip again and his lips clasped down around it.
As the reggae kept rolling over them, it was Clarke's turn to run her hands up his chest, something she'd never before allowed herself to do when he wasn't injured or bleeding, twisting her palms in the scrap of grey cotton that was supposed to pass as his t-shirt as she went, removing it. The late orange sun that streamed through the glassless, old window frames warmed his aching shoulders.
His belt came next. Then hers. And everything else until it was just them, the beat of shallow valley's delinquent family and the rest of time.
Clarke's naked thighs were soon wrapped around Bellamy's waist as he gently carried her to the worn, dust-covered settee. Bellamy peppered her with kisses, always returning to her breast bone, pausing over her chest as it rose and fell. She was alive. He had Clarke. After, everything, he still had her.
"I'd fall to Earth for you, Princess." He spoke barely above a whisper.
Clarke spoke without even thinking, "Ai hod yu in, Bellami."
He had picked up enough Trigedasleng by now to know what she had said: I love you, Bellamy. It was as simple as that.
Next thing they knew, Clarke had dragged his face towards hers in an encompassing kiss. Fierce like Wanheda, she guided him to her and surrounded him, treasured like the last thing on Earth. When he rocked back into her, they both emitted a gasp of further shock and satisfaction.
Clarke's body was pressed the length of his and how had they ever existed any other way? They each cracked a smile and something that they wouldn't think possible for a very long time bubbled out of the pair…a collaborative laugh, heartbroken but strong and very much healing. He loved the way she looked up at him just then, before she hid her blushing face into the crook of his neck, it was her trust in him that was looking back at Bellamy through her eyes and he, in return, trusted this woman with his life, just as he always had done. The sky-children looked exhausted but happy all the same and then they kiss each other again. And again. And again.
An echo fades, as does radiation but a love like this refuses to lessen.
It will shine bright into the darkness until it reaches the light once more.
…
In peace may you leave this shore.
In love may you find the next.
Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground...
May we always meet again.
AN/: So, this was a bunny that has been hopping about since about 508. I haven't seen 510 yet but as of this morning, I'm scared to. As a way of coping with the torment of season 5…I sat down with my laptop, coffee and a fag and attempted to write something that would hopefully sooth our aching hearts. Thanks Jason, always a pleasure.
Please review.