[A/N: I love feedback! I LOVE FEEDBACK. And when I get it, I just... I can't help it, I want to write more. And I keep getting such great feedback! Luckily my beta, Marina Black1, is a damn BEAST with turnaround. So anyway, I'm just going to leave this little "thank you" chapter right over here...]
Lydia leaned against the table beside Clarke. She gazed intently at the paper onto which Clarke was transferring Lincoln's tattered map.
"No, that doesn't look right. See? This line's all squiggly over here, but you made it kind of straight," the little girl pointed out helpfully. Clarke sighed and set her pencil down.
"Lydia, I really need to get this done quickly, okay? We're already so far behind schedule. Isn't your dad around? Or your mom?"
"My mom died when I was born. And Daddy's busy right now," Lydia explained matter-of-factly, setting her elbows on the table and tucking her chin into the hammock made by the palms of her hands. She stared up at Clarke, clearly still awestruck. "It's just you and me for now."
Clarke stared back. Lydia was persistent; the two of them appeared to be at an impasse. And it was true: Bellamy was helping coordinate supplies with Michael, and Raven seemed determined to stay out of Clarke's way this afternoon. It really was just Clarke and Lydia, stuck together in Martin's tiny kitchen.
"Bellamy says we're the two most stubbornest princesses ever," the little girl announced, breaking the silence.
"I think Bellamy has a lot of nerve calling other people stubborn." Clarke reached for her pencil again.
"Bellamy also says it's okay to be stubborn though, because stubborn can keep you safe." At that, Clarke narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.
"Hm. And why are you and Bellamy talking about all this, exactly?"
"His sister… Octavia?" The girl's face puckered as she worked to remember the name. "Bellamy says she's waiting for him at the ocean. He says I'm kind of like her." Clarke laughed despite herself.
"Yes, you are a lot like her." She bent over the map again, but Lydia was not quite done.
"Bellamy says -"
"Lydia, the world does not revolve around what Bellamy says!" Clarke cut in, exasperated. She closed her eyes briefly, searching for calm. "Okay... Let's try this." She leaned toward the girl conspiratorially. "Can you pass on a message for me?" Lydia's chest swelled at the thought of being given an important mission, and she nodded gravely, her eyes wide.
"Clarke says you talk too much."
Bellamy looked down at the small brunette in confusion.
"Sorry?" He paused in the middle of packing spare gear into a bag. "I don't understand."
"She also says you have a lot of nerve calling other people stubborn."
"Oh, does she?" Bellamy smiled and squatted down beside Lydia. "Well. Would you be willing to take a message back to her?"
"Bellamy says a princess should know the difference between stubborn and afraid."
... ...
"Clarke says you have a lot of opinions about princesses that you should probably just keep to yourself."
... ...
"Bellamy says it's fine to be afraid, but that princesses aren't supposed to let fear rule their hearts."
... ...
"Clarke says don't you have enough to worry about?"
... ...
"Bellamy says you do plenty of worrying for everyone."
... ...
"Clarke says that's what's keeping us all alive. Um, Bellamy, I don't -"
... ...
Sigh. "Bellamy says brave princesses don't lock themselves in towers. Okay, really, what does that one even mean? Who would ever want to lock themselves in -"
... ...
"Clarke says you don't know when to give up."
"Wait! … How did she say it?" Bellamy turned away from his counting to watch Lydia intently.
"Huh? I don't know what you mean."
"Was she happy, angry, sad?"
"Oh. Um, she sighed, kinda like this…" and Lydia raised both shoulders and exhaled in a dramatic rendition of a frustrated Clarke.
... ...
"Bellamy says never."
"Hold on," Clarke tried to remember the last couple exchanges, and furrowed her brow. "Never what? That doesn't even make any sense."
"I told him that, but he wouldn't listen!"
... ...
"You're just using that little girl, Bellamy," Clarke's rough voice preceded her through the open doorway. He glanced up from the workbench but stayed seated, trying hard to focus on her words. She had finally picked out new clothes, including a pretty blue V-neck sweater that set her eyes aglow. Bellamy cleared his throat before trusting himself to speak.
"I could say the same of you. In fact, I should. You started it," he answered mildly. She stepped back and he could almost see her realizing he was right.
"Well, at least I didn't confuse the poor kid. She's wandering around asking people what princess has ever locked herself in a tower!" Color rose in her cheeks even as she said the words, and Bellamy caught it. He decided to press the point.
"I'd say we both know the answer to that one, don't we, Princess?"
"It's a bullshit metaphor." She crossed her arms protectively. The movement caused a violent tug inside Bellamy's chest, the smoldering beast begging for release, aching to tear down those frosty walls of hers. Clarke caught just a glimpse, something burning in his eyes, before he was able to shut it down.
"Clarke, I told you: I won't give up. There's more here, and I know you know that." He stood as he said it, desperate to be near her, hungry for another taste of her lips, however fleeting.
"You could be wrong," she pointed out as he drew closer.
"I'm not wrong." He was inches from her now. "I promise not to hurt y -."
"Raven."
She hurled it at him with every ounce of strength she had, and stared him down, daring him to try and make another empty promise.
"That's not fair. Clarke, it was..." Bellamy searched for the right word, a way to help her see how much he regretted it, had regretted it even then.
"It was a mistake."
He wanted to point out that she was off with Finn at the time, that Raven had made it sound like the two of them were… he shook his head to clear away the image, and Clarke picked up the conversation where he had stopped.
"A mistake. Exactly. I get it; I know all about mistakes, Bellamy. And I can't afford to be your next one." She slammed a sheet of paper against his chest. "This is the closest thing we have to a map. See if Michael and Anya can fill in any missing pieces," she ordered before slipping away again.
With the sun sinking in the sky behind them, Bellamy and Lydia said their goodbyes. Clarke walked away from the emotional moment, and the pair paused to watch her go.
"Bellamy, why is she so sad?"
"I hurt her, kiddo." His voice was low and gruff, and Lydia slipped her hand into his reassuringly.
"How?"
"Oh, a couple ways. I guess the worst one, though, was when I died." Lydia thought about that answer.
"And now you're back."
"Yes… but I think the damage is already done." The girl's eyes widened and she nodded. One advantage to having no mother, and a busy father, was the lack of supervision. Lydia spent a lot of time hanging around where she shouldn't, and she had a vast, albeit oddly-pieced-together, reservoir of knowledge on adults and their problems.
"Martin says most injuries heal best if they're left alone and given time," she offered. Bellamy sighed and his brows knit together.
"How much time, do you think?"
"I don't really know. But Jena's mom says everything feels better with a kiss, so I guess that's an option, too," Lydia added, although her tone was laced with suspicion at the validity of this argument. Bellamy grinned.
"Jena's mom sounds like a wise woman to me."
Assuming they made excellent time, there were four grueling days of walking in store for the sixty-six travelers. Realistically, it would be a week if they were lucky. Bellamy pushed hard for the first few hours, though, anxious now to reach Octavia.
Raven jogged up beside him, her dark eyes telegraphing her frustration.
"Clarke says we need to stop for the night; everyone's exhausted. I say I'm not your fucking messenger, and you two need to do… whatever you need to do… to fix this."
"Raven, we've barely left the village. At this rate we'll never get there. Let's just get another few miles behind us before we make camp. Tell her -"
"Like I said, I'm not your fucking messenger. I thought I was clear. You have something to say, you tell her yourself." Raven watched Bellamy struggle with her ultimatum. Finally he sighed and commanded Jasper and Monty to keep up the pace, then slipped toward the back of the group. Raven smiled and fell in step with the two friends.
"Finally," she sighed. "I honestly thought I was going to be stuck running back and forth between them all night." Monty frowned.
"What's going on?" He had spent the day with several of the village's growers, getting information on the plants they might encounter as they moved through the Piedmont region. It had felt really good, being useful to the group again; but now he realized he had missed out on some drama.
"The Bellamy and Clarke tension is at an all-time high," Raven offered. "It's crap timing, though, because now we're all gonna die in the middle of nowhere while they're busy not speaking to each other."
"That's very comforting, Raven, thank you," Jasper grumbled.
"Well, I kind of get where Clarke's coming from," Monty piped up. "She thought he was dead. That's gotta be hard." Raven stopped short, and Jasper walked right into her. She seemed to barely notice.
"She thought… he was… dead… Ohhh-holy-shit…"
Jasper shot Monty a quick "do you understand women? Because…" look and then tapped Raven on the shoulder.
"Um, would you mind explaining?"
"Actually I would mind. Oh god, I messed up - and not even in the way I thought I did. Sorry guys, I gotta go!" She took off again, calling out as she ran, "Clarke! Hang on! I'm an idiot!"
When she found them, the leaders had fallen behind the rest of the group; they were staring at each other stubbornly, neither willing to give ground. Raven was tempted to bang their heads together, or slap them, but opted for yelling instead.
"Seriously you two, get it together before we all die out here!" She began, and they turned on her, both sets of eyes blazing. Okay, they agree on being angry at me, at least. That's a start... I guess.
"Bellamy, get to the front. We'll go another half hour, but that's it; then you find somewhere to camp. Clarke, you and I need to chat."
After Bellamy had disappeared, Raven turned on her blonde friend.
"I really am an idiot... But so are you."
"Raven, what the hell?!"
"Well, you are. Did you ever stop to wonder why he said yes to me, that night? Did you ever think that maybe he felt hurt, and just wanted to hurt you back?"
"Good for him, then. Because it worked."
"No, it didn't! And that's the main reason you're an idiot," Raven said. "You're using me as an excuse, Clarke."
"This is a really terrible apology, if that's your goal," Clarke shot back, exasperated.
"Okay, look - I'm sorry I slept with Bellamy, believe me." Raven couldn't quite let it go at that, though. "Even though you weren't together then, and you aren't together now, and you slept with Finn," she added quickly.
"Raven, I told -"
"Yeah I know, sorry - we're not even talking about that. I figured I'd throw it in to remind you," Raven confessed. "It just… it still sucks. But my point is, I didn't do anything wrong, and neither did Bellamy. I should have realized it earlier. You're barely angry at me at all. But you're so damn pissed at him! And I think I know why." Raven put her hand on Clarke's arm, and looked her straight in the eye.
"It's because you thought he was dead, and you've lost literally everyone you ever loved, and you took his death as proof that you're… I don't know, cursed or something. Now suddenly he's just magically alive - and you think if you let him back in, he's going to die all over again. Only next time it will be for real."
Clarke sank onto a fallen log and stared at Raven in amazement.
"How did …"
Raven sat down beside her and smiled sadly.
"The bad news is, he will die, and you can't stop it. We all will. It's what happens," she pointed out, wrapping an arm around her friend and waiting as Clarke choked back a sob.
"You have a terrible bedside manner, Raven," Clarke finally managed through her tears.
"Well, engines don't usually care what I say to them, so I don't have a whole lot of practice," she admitted. The girls sat together, letting night steal over their silent forms.
"Hey, Clarke… Can I ask you a question?"
"I doubt I could stop you," Clarke pointed out.
"Have you tried to see it from his side?"
Clarke frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, Bellamy chased you all the way to Mount Weather, with no clue what would be waiting for him when he got there. And he carried my dumb-ass ex-boyfriend half the way, too. Maybe you should just talk to him. - Or better yet, you might want to try listening, for a change."