The war is coming. Dun, dun, dunnnn. I'm excited or it. And I'm also glad you guys liked the previous chapter, because I was struggling with that one. I love me some Bellarke fluff, but I also like realistic fluff, and realistic not-so-fluff because this is Bellamy and Clarke and arguing is kind of a facet to their relationship. Please read and review! (And any scenes you'd like to be included, I may take suggestions.)

Bellamy was pacing his room, his mind blank as he thought over what had happened, what was in the process of happening, when the door opened and Octavia stepped inside.

He paused as she entered, meeting her eyes with his own glazed ones.

"So..." she started, easing into the question as she lingered by the entrance, feigning nonchalantness. "You and Clarke, huh?"

Bellamy wasn't anxious to put any sort of label on it. He didn't know which term sufficiently encompassed whatever this was. All he knew was that something was there. It ran deeper than friendship and was bolder than some simple attraction. But he just smirked at his sister, and the subtle disbelief that was woven beneath her words. "Does that surprise you?"

Octavia shrugged, coming over to him and taking a seat on his cot. "Honestly? Not in the least."

He looked at her in confusion. "You mean to say you actually saw this as a possibility? With me and Clarke?"

She cracked a smile at his evident incredulity and let out and exasperated sigh. "You're not as smart as you like to think you are, Big Brother."

He smirked. "A heads up would've been nice."

She shrugged, but leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Her expression turned serious. "I actually assumed you knew. I'ts why I thought you let her leave Camp Jaha in the first place."

He came over and sat down beside her, his gaze falling to his hands. "I let her go because she wanted to go."

"You let her go because you knew you couldn't stop her. You never wanted her to."

"What does that matter anymore? She went. She came back," he let out an angered breath. "If I'd known what was going to happen would I have threatened her like she threatened you? There's no question. But any one of us would've done that. It didn't mean I felt something then."

Octavia shook her head demeaningly, as if scorning a child. "You know, you and Clarke have gotten so good at seeing the hidden things, you miss the painfully obvious ones. Maybe you haven't realized this yet, but in one sense, Clarke is just like you. She's also the complete opposite of you. It's probably why you guys nearly killed each other from the start." Octavia smiled. "Same heart with different reasons but one motive; to keep us all alive."

"Or maybe on the ground, we just became that way," he said.

She scoffed. "Yeah. It made you less intolerable and had Clarke go from Ark Princess to leader of the Grounders."

Bellamy arched an eyebrow at his sister. "Less intolerable?"

"When it comes to girls, yeah," Octavia deadpanned. "And I've seen you with a lot of them, but they never did anything for you. And the one girl that did, was the one you never even had to be with for her to do it."

The knowledge of that sunk into him, slowly. He hadn't thought of it beneath that light before. "That's probably because I didn't try to be someone I wasn't with her," he said, and then cast her a rueful smile. "However intolerable of a person that was."

Octavia put her hand over his, her fingers once soft, now rough and callused like his. "I didn't mind him so much. Some of the others were scared of you, though. They saw you as a leader, and when that went to your head, Clarke was there to remind you to ease up. Her threats piss me off a lot, but for you," Octavia lifted her shoulders. "She's fitting."

"It's not like we're doing much about it, O," Bellamy said. This conversation was beginning to feel surreal to him, with his sister not only commenting on his personal life, but approving of it as well. "We just agree that we see something there."

That mocking expression resurfaced to her features. "It's not just some crush, Bell. Of all people, you should know the difference by now."

"I do," He said, almost harshly, still struggling to place exactly what he was feeling. "I told Clarke I didn't want to have any regrets. But there's a difference between not wanting regrets and rushing into things too quickly. I'm not going to rush this just because of a war, and because I also don't want it to be my motive for acting on it."

She lets out a quiet breath. "Hey, it's your love life. But, Bell? Just..."

Bellamy eyed her skeptically. "Just, what?"

Octavia patted his hand once before standing to leave, but kept her eyes trailed on her brother. "Just don't screw it up."

The woods were silent and the sky held its tongue, the air devoid of any breeze. A chill trickled down Clarke's spine as she studied the sylvan surroundings from the gateway, the calmness of it unsettling.

She had doubts of Ice Scouts being nearby. Even a nation built beneath the ground could lose their footing and Clarke was sure their loss of the armory had done that much. She thought she'd had to wait for a war, but now she was beginning to rethink that plan.

A scowl marred her brows as she gazed in front of her, deep in thought.

Clarke didn't like the feeling of waiting. Didn't like the sensation as if she'd been backed into a corner and had no alternative but to wait. She was still letting the Ice Nation make its move, and when evening began to bruise the horizon, Clarke began forming a new plan.

Octavia and Lincoln would be leaving soon, after they'd been given the clear earlier today, but the image of defenseless kids wandering the wilderness made Clarke's chest clench in uncertainty. But Tondc wouldn't become any safer for them, and Clarke couldn't protect victims on a battleground.

When a deep purple started to bleed over the sky, Clarke returned inside the doors, to where Octavia and Lincoln were preparing themselves. She had a gun strapped to her back and an assortment of knives probably hidden among her attire, while Lincoln clutched his bow and a decent sized blade in his other hand.

Clarke casts a wary glance at the cart stationed behind them, holding nearly a dozen young kids.

"Don't bother trying to take any prisoners if you run into trouble," Clarke said to Octavia, her eyes still on the children, particularly one boy, with bright eyes and curly hair. "Kill on sight."

From her peripheral vision, Clarke saw Octavia nod.

She glanced away from the boy just as someone came up alongside her, his presence sending an uncontrollable ways of heat over her skin.

Clarke gave him the time to hug his sister before calling his attention. "I'm done waiting for an attack," she told Bellamy, as they stepped away from the others and to the privacy of the council room. This small place was beginning to offer Clarke solace. A place of reasoning. A place of action.

She stepped inside and Bellamy followed closely after. He shut the door behind. "I don't like it, either," he said. "The tension in this camp is making everyone anxious."

Clarke nodded. "Which is why I want to change plans. I want to move against the Ice Nation before they move against us."

Bellamy contemplated her words, keeping his eyes leveled with her own. "That could be what they're waiting for," he replied. "We could walk straight into their trap."

"Or we give them the time to come up with a new one," Clarke said and her shoulders sagged. "Its just a much a risk as there is waiting for them to make the first move. Right now they're weakened. And this is the best time as any to strike before they get organized again. If they haven't already."

He studied her and Clarke could see him drawing his own conclusions. "Are you thinking of blitzing them from behind?"

"Mount Weather is prepared for an attack, but they can't attack first. I want a mobile group, especially if we need to go after the Queen. I doubt she'll be battling on the front lines."

He didn't voice it, but Clarke could see that Bellamy agreed with her, at least this far. "Who were you planning to have in this group? You'd need the best sharpshooters."

She'd already considered that. "Which is why I'll need you and Lincoln."

"Lincoln doesn't shoot."

"Guns," Clarke corrected. "But he's good with a bow and I'd rather have a reliable archer than someone who can't aim with a gun properly."

"I've been overseeing the training sessions with Octavia," Bellamy said. "There's two Grounders, Koma and Inyo. They're a good shot."

Clarke mentally added them to the list. "Good. That makes six of us."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed, ever so slightly. "Who're the other two?"

Clarke tried to act as cool-headed as she could, when she said, "Octavia and myself."

She expected Bellamy to protest. Vocally. But he remained quiet, still surveying her features until the intensity brought heat to her cheeks. "I don't want Octavia in the middle of that," he finally said, his tone dropping a few degrees and she could hear the second implication in his voice. I don't want you in the middle of that.

"I know," Clarke replied. And she did. "But Octavia is good. She knows how to shoot and she's a skillful fighter."

"Clarke," Bellamy's tone rang in warning.

"I can't assemble just a decent team, Bellamy," she said, sidestepping the warning. "I need the best. And whether you think so or not, Octavia is one of the best. If you don't want her with us, that's your call. But I promise you, Octavia will not sit idly on the sidelines. She fought our battle with the Grounders, and with the Mountain Men. I know you want to protect her, but Octavia has a right to fight in this war, just like the rest of us."

Clarke saw the disapproval in his eyes, and underneath it, the subtle glimmer of fear. "Lincoln will watch out for her," he said bluntly.

Clarke stepped forward and though this still felt strange, still felt different like new ground, she placed her hand over his chest, just as she'd done the other day. "And if, at some point in this, Bellamy, you have to make a choice between me and your sister, I want you to pick Octavia."

She didn't know if that would be his decision regardless, but Clarke wanted to make it clear that it was okay if it was. That it was what she wanted herself.

Bellamy stared at her, lips parted slightly in surprise, and for a moment, he didn't speak. Suddenly, he drew in a sharp breath and his eyes turned hard. "I never figured you as a cruel person, Clarke."

That stung, but Clarke didn't move away from him and she lifted her hand from his chest to his cheek. "I wouldn't ask for Octavia if I didn't think there was someone better fit for this. But there isn't. And I want to know that if we're put in a position that you have to choose between the two of us to save, I don't want you to agonize over it."

He turned away from her, pulling out of her grasp and shook his head in bewilderment. "You're giving me your permission." He said it as if it were an accusation, but Clarke dismissed it. "I'm giving you an order."

Bellamy scoffed dryly. "I won't be put in that position."

Clarke took a calming breath, trying to defuse his anger. "I don't want you to be. Which is precisely why I'm ordering it."

He stared back at her in disbelief, hands clenched tightly at his sides. He was deathly calm, emotions controlled but boiling just beneath the surface. He smiled but there was no humor in it. "My own personal lever."

Clarke shook her head, grabbing at his hand. He tried to pull out of it, but she gripped it firmly in her own. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Bellamy. How is this any different then when we were talking about killing each other to stop us from being tortured?"

"How is this different?" He asked coldly. "This isn't you saving Finn from pain by killing him, Clarke. This isn't us flooding people with radiation to save our own. This is you, pitting me against two people I care about. And to you, it seems like an easy choice."

Clarke hadn't intended to have this turned into an argument. She thought he would've been somewhat accepting of it, but she hadn't counted on this sort of reaction. "None of this is easy," she said. "I just don't want you to feel guilty in making that choice if you ever have to."

Bellamy's expression turned bitter. "And am I supposed to thank you for that?"

Clarke grappled for the right response. "No. I'm telling you, as my Second in Command, picking Octavia is what I want. Not only what I think you want."

His eyes lingered on her face, and in the failing light, his dark eyes now seemed black. "Right," he nodded curtly. "You've made that clear. I'll inform Inyo and Koma," he added, extracting himself completely from her and turning away.

Clarke hesitated. "Bellamy?"

He raised a hand, as if to ward her off. "Save it, Clarke. I get it. You're the Commander after all."

The heat of his words burned like a slap to the cheek, but she let him go, staring after him until he disappeared through the door and the coming night swallowed him whole.