Wine, Dine, It's about damn time
It was dark when they finally arrived at the Ice Nations temporary camp. The appearance of the camp was similar to what they had seen with Lexa's people, but the clothing was lighter in color. There were no elderly or children, only warriors. Bellamy's eyes surveyed the camp as he attempted to commit it to memory.
Too many he thought as he lost count of the grounders in the make-shift camp.
A large grounder grabbed the reins of their horse near its muzzle speaking to them in his native tongue. Bellamy searched for the two they had followed, but they disappeared into the camp. His eyes fell back on the man holding the horse as he scanned over him. This grounder stood as tall as their horse, his scars displayed as clearly as the weapons attached to him. He felt Clarke shift behind him.
Damn it Bellamy silently cursed as he saw her sliding down the side of the horse. He swung his leg over and dropped in front of her, separating her from the grounder. The grounder walked away with the horse without a word or another look in their direction. Bellamy and Clarkes eye's locked, both searching for what the next move was.
"Sky people welcome to my camp" A boisterous voice exclaimed. It came from a grounder decorated in opulent gold sashes his clothes were various shades of white. His dark brown hair was slicked back giving him a false appearance of youth. He stood as tall as Bellamy, with the same muscular demeanor. His arms were outstretched with his greeting, and a large grin on his face.
"I am Rodineur King of the Ice Nation" he boasted as he approached them. Despite the man's friendly disposition, Bellamy continued to stand firm, untrusting of the man before them. The Kings eyes locked with Clarkes, "Ah you must be Clarke" he said with great admiration. Too much admiration for Bellamy. Clarke was still half behind him, and Bellamy's slightly extended arm was keeping it that way. But as the King came to Clarkes another side he grabbed her hand and tucked into the inside of his elbow, leading her into the camp. Bellamy cursed silently at the man and followed close behind.
"I have waited many weeks to find you Clarke of the Sky people" he reported as he led her into a large tent with a long table inside it. The room was spacious and displayed hints of gold.
"Come. We feast to the occasion" he declared as he pulled a chair, gesturing for her to sit. She complied, Bellamy sat beside her and the King took a seat at the head of the table…which was next to her. Three grounders circled the table and placed plates full of exotic foods in front of them. Another filled their gold glasses with a deep red liquid, and then they filed out of the room.
Clarke looked at the contents of her cup; she had never seen such a color in liquid form. The aroma of it teased her senses as she breathed it in.
"Its wine" Rodineur gleamed as he leaned into her "It will please you" he smiled at her. Every word that slide off his tongue seemed to be laced with hidden meanings. None of which went unnoticed by Bellamy. He eyed the plate of food on the table in front of him, skepticism and previous experiences told him not to trust such an offer.
Bellamy's eyes darted to Clarke as she lifted her gold cup in her hand further eyeing the mysterious liquid. She brought the cup to her lips curiously taking a sip of the crimson juice. Bellamy held his breath, the scene of Gustas thrusting over the table seared through his mind.
"Mmm," he heard the sound escape Clarke's lips as she lowered the cup from them. His breath caught in his throat….waiting.
Has she completely lost it his mind wondered as he watched her and the King carefully. She shouldn't trust them so easily.
After some time, Clarke's eyes found his and there was a sparkle in them he hadn't seen before. "Try it" she offered pointing to his cup. Bellamy gave her a look of disapproval. She replied with a roll of her eyes, "it's good" she said in a sing-song voice.
Bellamy ate a few bites of the food and washed it down with the wine. He couldn't deny that it was good, but he was too consumed with observing everything that he found no pleasure in it.
There was a certain carefree attitude Clarke exuded well into the meal, it put Bellamy on alert. His eyes roamed over her searching for the source of her current uncharacteristic state. The longer they were there, the worse it was. Her laughter filled the tent at one point when the Rodineur told them a joke.
This isn't right he thought as he continued to monitor her. The way the King constantly leaned into her put Bellamy on edge. When he placed his hand over hers Bellamy damn near exploded. A purely feral instinct overcame him at the sight of the innocent touch. His near attack went unnoticed as they were already rising from their seats.
"Let us talk business" the King declared as she once again tucked her hand into his inner elbow leading her to another part of the massive tent. This section had a smaller table, surrounded by ornate benches. Everything seemed to be dusted with gold.
"Leave us" the King ordered Bellamy with a dismissive wave. Instantly Bellamy's jaw clenched, the muscles in it twitching from the powerful contraction. His eyes narrowed as his mouth opened to respond. Clarke's gentle touch on his arm brought him back from the rage that was encompassing him.
"He stays," she said with authority to Rodineur taking him by surprise. The displeasure of her actions was clearly evident on the king's his face. Bellamy sat beside her, leaving little room between them.
The King shook off his disapproval eventually and requested more wine from his guard. Their cups refilled more times than could be counted, but Bellamy refused to drink it. Another hour had passed before they began to discuss politics.
"It's simple dear Clarke," Rodineur said with a sly grin, "You come to my nation, see my kingdom. Meet my people. Then we may from our alliance."
Bellamy's glare on Clarke hardened, he had heard enough. And he knew all too well the look in her eyes.
That damn look he inwardly cursed when it revealed itself.
"An alliance can be made here. We're not going" his throaty voice said, attempting to keep his anger in check.
Rodineur bellowed, "No you are not going anywhere" he laughed "Your Heda is." Bellamy's hands balled into tight fists on the bench beside him. The king leaned into Clarke "My people want to see this beautiful Heda that has fought so well against our enemies".
"She's not going with you" Bellamy growled, his resolve to control his anger fading fast. His fists pushed deeper into the bench.
The King's smiling face surrendered to a menacing one as he glared into Bellamy. He took a deep breath and smiled again, "Let us rest on it-We'll talk more in the morning" he called something to one of his guards in their language.
"Cytok will show you to your tent," he said with a generous smile then left. Bellamy and Clarke followed Cytok to their tent without a word. Bellamy's anger was steaming off of him while Clarke's mind mauled over the options. "It is there" Cytok pointed to a tent at the edge of the camp. It was secluded from the others.
Bellamy dragged Clarke to their tent by her bicep. He pushed her into it in front of him, and then closed the opening behind him.
"You are not going with him" he snapped at her.
Clarke looked up at him; the pure determination in her eyes spoke for her.
He stalked to her, "Do you remember what I said?" he asked in a low raspy voice. The question came out as more of a threat than a question.
Clarke looked away from him, brushing past him. "This isn't Emerson" she shook her head.
He grabbed her arm again and swung her back to him, "damn right it isn't-they are grounders."
He locked eyes with her and pulled her all the way to him, leaning over her. "Since when has anything good come from grounders?" he growled. Clarke didn't respond, but her eyes soften forcing Bellamy's bruising grip to soften on her arm.
"Clarke" he sighed, running his hand through his dark locks. "I just got you back" his voice cracked. The once brawny and impenetrable Bellamy Blake was crumbling before her. The last few weeks had chipped away at his armor and he was completely bare. Clarke had been his rock since landing on Earth. She challenged him, infuriated him, and pushed him. But she had also saved him, motivated him, and forgiven him. He would have murdered her mother with his war against the ark when they had arrived, and yet she forgave him. She made him want to be someone he was proud of, someone she was proud of, someone she wouldn't have to forgive. His need to protect her was instinctual, but it wasn't the same as it was towards Octavia. Octavia insisted, and proved, that she didn't need him. Clarke however, asked him to protect her their second day on Earth…and she had never stopped.
Clarke could see the desperation shifting in his eyes. She could see the poor broken boy under all the hard lines and scars. "I need to do this" she whispered as she walked passed him.
Bellamy snapped. He had spent too long on this god forsaken planet fighting and battling for everyone. He had spent too long trying to save this girl in one way or another. He had spent too long waiting for her to see how much he really cared.
He grabbed her arm again and pulled her roughly to his chest. He stared into her eyes as his hand moved to the small of her back, the other weaving its way into her golden hair. They looked into each other, everything dissolving around them. Everything they had done everything that was done to them, everything they had yet to do- it all just disappeared. They were no longer two leaders fighting for their people; they were merely innocent young adults gazing into each other.
Bellamy's eyes slowly wandered down to her lips before returning to her eyes. For Clarke, the world was slowly reappearing and she opened her mouth to protest. But Bellamy wasn't stopping; he crashed his lips onto hers. Clarke instantly melted into him, her lips falling in sync with his soft ones. Bellamy's hand gripped the back of her head while the one on her back closed any distance between them. Bellamy nipped at her bottom lip then used the opening to greet her mouth with his tongue. The kiss was hard, animalistic; the hunger burning within him was insatiable. Clarke was completely his at that moment; she melted more into him at his every touch and kiss.
"I need you" he whispered into her ear. He ripped the shirt she had on over her head then crashed his lips back onto hers. She moaned as his hand found her breast. "Bellamy" she cried softly.
His name moaning across her lips sent him over the edge. He needed her….he needed her now.
He broke his lips from hers untying her pants and yanking them to her feet. She stepped out of them kicking her boots aside. He tore his shirt off and pulled his pants down. He grabbed the back of her thighs and pulled her to his waist, stalked over to the bed dropping them onto it. Their mouths never ceasing their battle with one another.
The tenacious hunger for her raged within him and he thrust hard into her muffling her scream with his mouth. He pulled her legs up around his waist and continued to pound into her. She desperately clawed at his back, attempting to pull him closer. He wanted to be gentle. Every time he had thought of this moment, he had planned to be gentle. But nothing about them was ever gentle. His desire for her consumed him at that moment. He continued his hard thrusts until her body clenched around him and she trembled beneath him crying his name. His body gave in at the same moment. He crumbled over her. Their ragged breathing replaced the moans and cries that previously filled the room.
He would not bring himself to look at her; he just buried his face in her neck holding her body under him. Clarke's arms are locked around him, her face pressed into his neck. They held clung onto each other, desperately needing to keep the other close. The realization of just how much they needed that closeness petrified them both.