The Hanging Tree- Mockingjay
Clarke was brushing her fingers through Diana's hair, humming softly to her while the dark curls fell across her fingertips. Not the Mockingjay's song. That wasn't for her daughter to hear. It was a sorrow song. Not a victory song. Not yet. But they would make it a victory song.
"She asleep?" Bellamy's voice was a rumble from the doorway, low and quiet, just enough to reach Clarke's ears but not enough to wake their sleeping daughter. She was barely six years old.
"Just barely. Do you want me to wake her up again?" Clarke's blue eyes watered but she didn't turn so he could see it. She knew that his dark eyes were doing the same.
"No. I told her I loved her at dinner. She said, 'I know that every day, Daddy.'" Clarke ignored the way his voice caught. She leaned forward to press one last kiss to Diana's head and pulled away from her slowly, walking backwards out of the room until her back was pressed against Bellamy's chest and they took the final step together, closing the door with a soft click. Finally, Clarke turned to press her face into the crook of his neck and she let loose a quiet sob.
"It's the only way," he murmured as his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, anchoring his words to the woman in his arms. "We have to let them know that District 5 will not bow to them."
"Why did we ever step up? When did being a leader become this hard?"
Bellamy chuckled drily, no humor in his voice. "When has it ever been easy in this fucked up world?"
"It will be easier for her." Even with the tears streaming down Clarke's face, her resolve held strong.
"It will be easier for all of them, thanks to you." Octavia's voice broke through their huddle and they looked up to see her in the doorway, hands pressed tight to her swollen belly and Lincoln standing behind her with his mouth set in a grim line.
"I only wish I could join you," the big man added.
"You have enough to do here." Clarke wiped away her tears and stepped away from Bellamy, who linked their hands together instead. "As soon as we leave, you have to start taking people away. You promised."
"We will get as many as we can to safety. Gale said they would meet us at District 8. We'll be there by tomorrow night." Clarke nodded at him and then glanced over at Octavia, whose startling blue eyes were narrowed in on her brother.
"Lincoln, will you go over the strategy with me one more time in the kitchen? I want to make sure you have everything down. Nothing can go wrong," Clarke suggested, glancing down to Octavia. He nodded once and leaned forward to kiss the top of Octavia's head. Clarke pressed a quick kiss to Bellamy's cheek and led Lincoln away so the siblings could talk.
"You don't have to do this, Bell," Octavia hissed as soon as she was sure Clarke and Lincoln were out of the room.
"Yes, I do," he answered.
"Nobody will think less of you for going with your family. For taking Clarke and Diana and getting the hell out of here. You did your time. Your back just healed from the lashes you got for talking back to a Peace Keeper. Clarke's foot never healed right from having it broken. You've done everything you could."
"No," Bellamy's voice was quiet, but hard. "We haven't, but tonight we will. Diana is going to live in a world where she doesn't have to be afraid of being killed because 200 years ago this country almost tore itself a part. I will not accept that she might wake up with nightmares because of what she had to do to survive. I will not accept that she might be losing friends because of it. I won't have my daughter growing up like that. I won't have her growing up like us."
"You'll have her growing up without parents," Octavia accused. "Just like us."
"I'll have her growing up knowing that her parents are heroes. Knowing that her mom didn't sell herself for money, she went out and took on the world. Knowing that her father didn't abandon her. That he loved her so much that he died for her," Bellamy said through gritted teeth. "War is coming, O. We all know that. War is coming and I'd rather die fighting in it than running from it."
She crossed the room in two strides and threw her arms around his waist, holding him as tightly as she could with her belly. Bellamy folded his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. He said gently, "Besides, you got a little one on the way, and with Blake and Lincoln's genes, we can't keep having Hunger Games. That little thing will tear through every one. Draw too much attention to the family."
Octavia let loose a wet snort and her tears slid loose. Bellamy held her tight while she sobbed, but they both froze when the door to Diana's room creaked open and the dark haired little girl crept out of the room, dragging a threadbare blanket behind her.
"Daddy, what's wrong with Auntie O?" Diana asked, pausing at the end for a yawn that split her little face in half.
Octavia yanked away quickly and wiped at her face. She put on a smile and said with false cheer, "Nothing, baby doll. It's just the baby making me all emotional."
"Oh. Tell the baby to be good." Diana crossed the floor with determined strides and patted Octavia's belly before she stretched her arms up to Bellamy. He lifted her off the floor and settled her onto his hip with an exaggerated sigh.
"You're getting so big, baby girl. You're going to be the size of Uncle Lincoln before we know it. What are we feeding you?" he teased as light heartedly as possible. "But you're way too little to be out of bed this late at night. What are you doing?"
Diana giggled and nuzzled her father's face with her nose. She explained, "I needed to be up for just a second. I woke up and the wall told me to be awake."
"Well the wall needs to stop telling you these things, my little princess." Bellamy reached up to run his long fingers through her hair. "Because little princesses need their sleep. Let's get to bed."
"First Mommy," Diana commanded. "Mommy, then sleepy."
Bellamy nodded and Octavia mumbled, "The baby needs air."
With that, she raced outside. Bellamy called out, "Clarke, the little princess wants to see the big princess."
There was a scuffle from the kitchen that Bellamy knew to be Clarke hiding the papers before she appeared in the doorway, a pencil smudge across her cheekbone. She smiled and greeted, "What's up, baby girl?"
She moved to the side of Bellamy so Diana was tucked between them, turned to grin at her mom. "I wanted to say good night again. The first time didn't count."
"It didn't count?" Clarke colored her voice with shock. "What do you mean it didn't count? I told a story and everything!"
"But I'm awake again. So I have to do it again," Diana said solemnly.
Clarke laughed and gave Bellamy the "She is so your daughter" look, which he returned with a "Yours too" glance. Together, they carried Diana back into her bedroom and began the retelling of the story of how Bellamy and Clarke met. With Bellamy falling into the water at the dam and everything. Diana yawned and declared at the end of the story, "When I'm a big girl, I'm going to meet my soul mate at the dam."
Clarke gasped and Bellamy grabbed her hand quickly, squeezing it in his own to remind her to hide her pain. He said, "Soul mate, huh? That's a big phrase for a little girl."
Diana nodded and ordered, "Sleepy now. Kiss kiss."
They kissed her in turn and she was snoring lightly before they left the room. In the living room, Octavia was sitting wrapped in Lincoln's arms. They looked up as the couple reentered and Clarke looked down at her watch one last time before she unsnapped it from her wrist. She announced, "It's time."
The watch was passed to Octavia, whose eyes spoke of protest and whose hand shook as she took the beat up watch that was wound every day, that would be passed onto Diana, to remind her of the parents who marched into battle. Hugs were passed around, tight and final, and Bellamy and Clarke held hands as they walked out the door and into the woods, the first notes of the Hanging Tree passing Bellamy's lips in a low whistle.
It was written in history how the great leaders, one tall and dark and one small and light, were swept away when the dam blew. How their last words were the shout of the Hanging Tree. How their last act was defiance and how their daughter was protected in District 13 as a child of the war.