Thank you to all my readers and followers! I apologize for taking so long with this, but here's the next chapter. I hope you like it!
"Bellamy," Clarke's voice crackles through the radio. "Bellamy, are you there?" Her tone is frantic, at least to his ears. He's sure that to anyone else, she sounds commanding and calm. But Bellamy can tell what emotions lie beneath her facade. And so he knows that she needs him. He puts down his tools immediately and answers her call.
"Clarke," he responds, a note of worry in his voice. "What's wrong?"
Hours later he's met up with her and Abby at the river's edge, ready to face whatever threat comes their way. Jasper and Octavia have managed to calm Harper down, wrapping her in a blanket and sitting her down on a large rock. Octavia whispers to her, probably reassuring Harper that Monty will be fine, that they'll get him back. Bellamy silently vows to make it happen.
"From what Harper described, I think it's Ice Nation," Clarke says. "At least, it's people of the Ice Nation who set traps in these woods." Her sky blue eyes become shrouded in storm clouds, and Bellamy is instantly mesmerized by their beauty. He could stare into those eyes for a million years and never reach fully into their depth. There have been entirely too many nights on which he lost sleep while thinking about the cold water of her irises, those pale blue rings that only seem to warm when they met his gaze. They're like rain, glorious rain, washing him clean.
"Then we have to be careful," Abby declared, looking between Clarke and Bellamy. They both nod, understanding the truth of her statement. "Especially because we have no idea what they want." In the past, Bellamy would have just burst out with some falsely heroic sentiment about knowing exactly what they want. They want to kill us, he'd say. We have to beat them at their own game! But Bellamy knows, now, how ridiculous it all was. He had been falling apart, drowning in grief, and he decided to drag everyone down with him.
"Do you think we could contact Rowan?" Bellamy suggests, even though he's not a big fan of the guy. But Clarke shakes her head.
"He could possibly be behind this, or at least have some part in it," she reasons. "Either way, contacting him would not help."
"Alright," Abby agrees. Clarke and Bellamy wordlessly communicate, both of them understanding what has to be done.
"We have to go in by ourselves," Clarke tells Abby.
"Who?" she asks. "You and Bellamy?" Clarke nods. "No it's too dangerous." Clarke rests her hand on her mother's forearm.
"You'll have our backs the whole way, but they need to think we're coming to make a deal with them. We need to know their motives first. Who knows, we might even be able to help them." Abby still shakes her head, looking to Bellamy with pleading eyes. But he's chosen to go against Clarke in the past, and it never seems to work in his favor, or anyone else's for that matter.
"I agree with Clarke," he admits. "If things go south, you guys will be able to launch into action immediately. But we need to talk to them first and make sure that Monty's okay."
Abby, realizing that she is getting nowhere, sighs and says, "Fine. But you better be careful." As the three of them go to inform the rest of the Arkadians of their scheme, Clarke pulls Bellamy aside. They travel to a secluded area just inside the treeline. Bellamy watches as her serious expression gives away to warmth.
"Thanks for backing me up," she says, the side of her mouth twitching upwards for a moment. It almost looks like a smile, but in an instant it's gone, the ghost of it left only in Bellamy's mind. He swears to himself that he'll make her smile, really smile, soon. She always appears so serious, but he can remember the way her face lights up when she grins. Her smile is like a fireball shooting from the sun, radiant and dangerous. He misses it when it's gone.
"I'll always have your back." His words send a chill through his own bones, because he knows them to be true at his body's core. Clarke gazes up at him, her eyes locked on his once again. The rain in them calls to him, and before his mind comprehends what his body is doing, he's gathered her up in his arms and is pressing his lips to hers. Clarke holds her breath for a second before exhaling, and then, just as he predicted, their collision causes an explosion within him. He feels her hands on his face, calloused and careful, the hands of both an artist and a leader. Her thumbs rub against his jawline, tracing his features, and he pulls her closer so that he can touch more of her, all of her.
Part of him is in shock, not quite believing that this, his secret, dying desire, is happening. Clarke deepens the kiss, digging her hands into his hair, like he'd always imagined she would. He finds the skin of her lower back with his own hands, brushing his fingertips against it, and she gasps into his mouth, causing his heartbeat to soar.
Slowly, Clarke pulls back, both of them breathing heavily. Her eyes are lowered, her forehead resting on his own, and Bellamy can't remember a time when she looked so vulnerable. She raises her eyes to meet his, and in them he sees the river, its vastness mixed with its possibility. They're glimmering like stardust, the sky blue irises swallowing the black hole in their centers. Clarke smiles, a real, genuine smile, and Bellamy feels like jumping or dancing or shouting praise to a higher power he doesn't even believe in.
She opens her mouth, about to either complete or break his heart, but a branch breaks behind them, ruining the moment. Abby appears through the trees as they break apart. Bellamy clears his throat.
"We're going now," she says, glancing between Bellamy and her daughter. "Are you ready?" The question should be simple, but it's complicated to Bellamy's ears. He raises his eyes to Clarke's once again, but the warmth in them is gone, replaced by crystallized stone. She gives him a nod, and he nods back. She turns to her mom.
"Yeah," Clarke declares, "we're ready."
