AN: Almost time to leave Europe behind and continue to the rest of the world, which also means moving away from my own experiences – I have been to Crete and Egypt, but after that it'll be a while before we get to places I've actually visited myself again, so we'll be relying solely on Google Maps for a while, hopefully it works!
I don't own anything relating to The 100
Chapter title from "Africa" by Toto
See the end of the chapter for warnings
37
Only Whispers of Some Quiet Conversations
Their flight to Crete leaves at nine in the morning on Sunday, so they really just have time to check out and grab a quick breakfast before leaving the hotel.
"How's the cold?" Clarke asks once they're in line to drop their bags at the airport. "Did you sleep OK last night?"
Bellamy had some trouble sleeping the night before, coughing keeping him up, but she didn't notice anything last night.
"It's much better," he assures her, voice practically back to normal. "And I slept like a log. I think the worst part's over, and if not, I still have the meds."
"Good," she says, squeezing his arm. "I want you to be able to enjoy Knossos."
"I will."
The flight isn't very long and they're checked into their hotel in Heraklion by noon. They're planning to go to Knossos tomorrow, so they spend the afternoon exploring the city, which boasts some pretty impressive historical sites too, wrapping up the day with dinner at a restaurant overlooking the harbor. Since their tickets to Knossos are for nine in the morning, they call it a night after that.
If she was still doubting that Bellamy was feeling better, all those thoughts would disappear in the morning when he practically bounces out of bed as soon as the alarm on her phone goes off.
"It's way too early for you to be this awake," she grumbles, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow. "Stop it."
"I take it you don't want first shower then?" he asks, turning off the alarm.
She doesn't dignify that with an answer, just burrows further into the fluffy pillow, and hears him chuckle as he goes into the bathroom.
She knows she has to get up, though, so she doesn't go back to sleep and when he emerges from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, she pulls together all the self-restraint she has and doesn't pull off the towel slung around his hips and push him down on the bed, instead taking his place in the shower.
They make it to the palace ruins in plenty of time for their tour, and it's very interesting, even if Clarke's favorite part – as with most tours they've been on so far – is the fact that Bellamy contributes things he feels like the guide leaves out, asking about things he hasn't even mentioned and even questioning him now and then.
They decide to stay for a while after the official tour, to explore a little more on their own, and that's actually better than the tour. They find every little nook and cranny they're allowed to visit and Bellamy is soon completely engulfed in the history of the site, telling her about the first Neolithic settlement dating back to 7000 BC, the palace built in the Middle Minoan period and its impressive architectural aspects and art. The sun is high in the sky when they finally decide to head out, and on their way back to the parking area where they're hoping to find a cab, he starts telling her the legend of King Minos and the Minotaur.
"So the king hired Daedalus to build a labyrinth to contain the Minotaur. He imprisoned his enemies in the labyrinth, so that the Minotaur could eat them, because the labyrinth was so complicated that no one could ever find their way out." He pauses. "I mean, that's what the legend says, obviously there's no such thing as minotaurs."
The idea comes to Clarke in a flash, and she only hesitates for a moment before she speaks. "Yeah, minotaurs are definitely just myth," she agrees. "But King Minos was real."
Bellamy's head snaps to the side to look at her and he stumbles a little on the uneven ground. "What?"
She shrugs, putting on an innocent expression. "Yeah, King Minos was an actual king. He wasn't the son of Zeus and Europa, obviously, and his wife didn't give birth to a child that was half-man half-bull, but he was real. He's one of the most famous Soul Keepers in history, he was around for millennia."
Bellamy's jaw actually drops at that, and she feels a little bad for a moment. "Seriously? How long? Did you actually meet him?"
"No." She shakes her head. "He's been… gone for hundreds of years. Raven swears she used to know someone who met him, but you know how that can be, stories get twisted when they're passed on by word of mouth."
"Yeah," he agrees, sounding distant. "That's seriously cool, though."
"It is. And you know what else?"
"What?"
Clarke leans up to be able to whisper in his ear. "April fools."
He looks a little confused when she pulls back, but then he lets out a loud laugh and shakes his head. "Shit, I didn't even realize it was April first. That was a good one."
"I didn't go too far?"
"No!" he assures her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her along so they start walking again. "It was funny. Really."
"I thought so."
They walk in silence for a moment before Bellamy speaks again. "So are there any famous Soul Keepers?"
"There have been some, through the ages," she replies. "Not many, and none in the last… century or so. It was easier, I guess, back before the camera. When you needed to move on, you could fake your own death, or just leave and not stay in touch with anyone from your old life or whatever, and nobody except for people you'd actually met would recognize you, but these days, if you make it into the media, people from all over the world have access to it. Harder to disappear that way."
"Right. I figured maybe one of those celebrities that died but people still claim to see now and then."
She gives him an amused look. "So Elvis?"
"Not specifically, but yeah, someone like that."
"Sorry to disappoint." She thinks for a moment. "I think there were some philosophers back in, like, the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but I can't remember their names. Probably a couple of writers and artists as well, though none of the really big ones."
The conversation distracts her a little from the actual April fool's joke, so she's completely unprepared when he gets her back later in the afternoon. They're lounging on the bed in their hotel room when he asks her to grab his phone, which is charging on the desk on her side of the bed. She doesn't think anything of it, but just as she picks it up, an alarm so loud that she jumps goes off.
"You're lucky I didn't drop it," she half-grumbles, tossing him the phone before slumping back onto the bed.
Bellamy just laughs, turning the alarm off. "You had it coming."
And, well, she can't exactly argue with that.
-100-
Cairo is just as bustling as Clarke remembers, even though it's been decades since she was last here.
"This is…" Bellamy starts as they're making their way along the perimeter of the large souq, vendors yelling, trying to lure them into their shops, kids giving them big eyes, the sound of the city intermingled with more rural noises, like chicken and goats, all around them.
"Overwhelming?" she offers, because it is. She sees the way his eyes follow a little girl with long, dark hair who's holding out her hands with a pleading look on her face. "There's no point in giving them anything," she continues. "Older kids or even adults are in charge of the younger children on the street, they'd just take the money from her as soon as we turn our backs."
He takes a deep breath. "I know. It's just hard to see."
Clarke squeezes his hand. "I know. Do you want to just head back to the hotel? There are plenty of restaurants there to choose from. I just wanted to show you a little bit of the real Cairo, but maybe this was a bad idea."
"No," he assures her, squeezing back. "I mean, yes to going back to the hotel to eat, but I wanted to see the city."
"OK."
They stroll around for another hour before getting a cab back to their hotel, where they find their way to its outdoor mezze restaurant with views of the Cairo museum. They order way too many of the little dishes but everything's delicious and they linger well into the night as the heat of the day slowly fades away.
Clarke's the first to wake up the next morning, wrapped up in the fluffy hotel comforter like a burrito. The sun is seeping in around the edges of the blackout curtains, and when she leans over to check the time, she finds it's a little after eight. But they don't have anything planned until a guided tour to the pyramids in the afternoon, so after she disentangles herself from her comforter and goes to the bathroom, she gets into bed again. Bellamy's using his own comforter in the more traditional way, and she slips under it to be able to tuck her head under his chin and press close. He hums in his sleep and wraps an arm around her waist automatically.
She knows morning wood is just a biological reaction, nothing personal, but it's still encouraging to feel him half-hard against her thigh. She slides her hand around to be able to run her nails up and down his back lightly, which she knows he likes, and presses a kiss to his collar bone, tongue darting out to taste him. When his hand tenses against her back, she pulls away enough to be able to look up at him and slides her leg up to hook around his hips, gasping at the feel of his dick against her core.
Bellamy's hips jerk against her and then he chuckles a little, blinking at her. "Morning."
"Mmm, morning," she replies, sliding her fingers into his hair. "You awake enough for this?"
He leans in, nose brushing hers. "Give me a sec."
His lips find hers, and for a long moment, that's all there is – his mouth sliding against hers, their bodies pressed as close together as they can get, her hand tangled in his hair, his flat against the small of her back, pulling her impossibly closer. When he breaks the kiss, Clarke lets out a whine in protest, but he just chuckles and trails wet, openmouthed kisses down her throat to her breast, where he pulls a nipple into his mouth. She bites her lip to keep the moan from escaping, her fingers tightening in his hair.
He stays like that until she's panting, and when he releases her nipple, it's only to shift his attention to the other one. She wants more, though, the tension building deep inside her, so she releases her grip on his hair to be able to slip a hand between them and get him lined up before arching her hips against him. The angle's not perfect and he only slides in about half-way, but it certainly gets his attention and he pulls away to look at her.
"I was planning on getting you off at least once before we got to this part," he half-complains with a smirk.
She just shakes her head. "Uh-uh. Want you."
Bellamy slides his hand from her back, over her hip to her thigh, hitching her leg a little higher before pulling back a little and thrusting back into her, all the way this time, pulling a moan from both of them.
"I couldn't tell," he groans out.
"Less talking, more fucking," she demands, getting a chuckle in return.
"Whatever my Princess wants."
He keeps things slow, though, and for a while, it's exactly what Clarke wants. His thrusts are hard and deep, his hand skimming every inch of her he can reach, his mouth alternating between exploring her throat, chest and shoulders, and deep, dirty kisses that she returns with fervor.
As usual, he seems to know exactly what she needs, too, because just when the pressure building inside her is starting to get unbearable, his hand slides between them. When his teeth graze her nipple a moment later, the combined feeling of that, his thumb rubbing circles against her clit and him deep inside her pushes her over the edge and she comes with a drawn-out moan.
Bellamy doesn't last much longer himself, movements stilling just as she starts to come back down, and she wraps her arms tightly around his neck, holding him as close as she can, his breath hot against her shoulder, for a long moment.
When he pulls back a little, there's a smile on his face. He presses a chaste kiss against her mouth before shifting back and sliding out of her. She immediately misses him, even though he's right there, just a few inches away.
"Hey," he says, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Hey," Clarke replies, returning the smile.
"When was the tour to the pyramids again?" he asks, hand settling on her waist, thumb rubbing circles against her stomach and making her shiver.
She has to think for a moment before she can remember. "We're getting picked up at noon, but we should probably eat something before that."
"Plenty of time, then," he decides, pushing her onto her back and pushing the cover away before setting between her legs.
In the end, they have just enough time to grab some sandwiches in the pool bar before their pick-up.
The drive through Cairo isn't long, and though the city has changed a lot since Clarke was last here, she tries to keep her eyes on Bellamy. She knows the moment he spots the pyramids, his eyes widening and his mouth opening slightly.
"Amazing, aren't they?" she says, leaning across him to be able to see out the window herself.
"I thought they'd be out in the desert," he replies. "Not this close to the city."
"Yeah, I know," she agrees, glancing at their driver and guide, who introduced himself as Karim when he picked them up, but he seems focused on the road. Still, she lowers her voice a little before continuing. "They were a bit further from the city last time I was here, but that was… sixty years ago, maybe closer to seventy? There was a small oasis near them, but Cairo has grown a lot since then…"
"No kidding…"
They both watch in awe as the large structures grow the closer they get, the Sphinx coming into view soon as well. It really is a magnificent sight, and it's not hard to experience the same amazement that she did the first time she was here.
Karim parks the car and leads them to the first stop, which is the Sphinx, where he hands them each a bottle of water. Bellamy opens his immediately, taking a deep drink, and Clarke follows his lead. The car was air-conditioned, but it's a warm day, the sun beating down on them unforgivingly.
There are a lot of different tour groups close to them, different languages floating through the air as the guides try to explain the wonders before them. Karim waits for a few minutes, letting a couple of them wrap up and move on, before he starts his own narrative.
Clarke's heard some of it before, of course, on her last visit, but there's been new information uncovered since then, and she really is as fascinated as Bellamy seems, listening with rapt attention. To her surprise, he doesn't intervene, doesn't jump in with things he thinks Karim is missing. Not that she's sure if he is missing anything, but still.
"Nothing to add?" she asks quietly when they're following Karim towards the first pyramid, Cheops.
Bellamy shrugs. "I was always more interested in ancient Rome and Greece, I honestly don't know nearly as much about Egypt," he admits. "I mean, we did do an intro course to it last year, but I haven't really done much reading on my own."
"You're enjoying this, though, right?" She loops her arm with his and he gives her a squeeze.
"Of course, this is fascinating. Mummies, Princess, who doesn't like mummies?"
They don't actually get to see any mummies, of course, the closest they get is the mummification temple. Karim gives them the full tour and tells them everything there is to know about the pyramids and Sphinx, and they do get to go inside the pyramids, which is cool, and visit the Valley Temple. After that, they get a little time to explore on their own, which they spend just strolling around the area.
"It really is huge," Bellamy notes when they stop at the foot of the Cheops pyramid, tilting his head back to find the top.
"It is," Clarke agrees.
"I heard that people used to climb it," he continues. "But that it's illegal now."
"It is, yeah," she confirms, glancing at one of the cameras keeping an eye on the tourists – a new addition, apparently, along with the fence and security check at the entrance. She's pretty sure they can't pick up sound, though, and there aren't any people nearby, so she doesn't bother lowering her voice. "We did climb it last time I was here, though."
"Really?" he asks, eyebrows shooting up.
"Don't sound so surprised! It wasn't illegal then, our guard actually encouraged it and climbed with us." She turns her gaze to the pyramid. "Plus, Raven really wanted to do it. Going up wasn't so bad, but coming down…"
"Yeah, each level's pretty high," Bellamy says, going a little closer. "How do you even get down?"
She shrugs. "Jumping from one level to the next, basically. Hence the reason it was outlawed back in the eighties, I think. A misstep, a loose rock in the wrong place, losing your balance…"
"And you're going down," he finishes for her.
Clarke nods. "Exactly."
"And you didn't even have anything to worry about," he adds. "You know, being immortal and all that."
"Well, yeah. It was still scary, though… it's really high." She pauses. "Besides, nobody really knows how the whole 'self-inflicted' thing works, like, where is the line between falling down a pyramid by accident and jumping intentionally? Raven argues it's about intent, but I wasn't really that interested in finding out."
They both stand in silence for a long moment, looking up at this wonder of ancient construction that doesn't feel like it should have been possible to build over four thousand years ago.
"Well, that got a little morbid," Bellamy then says, and she snorts a laugh.
"It did, didn't it?"
He wraps an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of her head before leading her back towards the parking lot. "We are visiting ancient tombs, after all," he points out. "It was bound to happen."
Their little half-day tour is wrapped up with a visit to Saqqara and the pyramid there, before Karim takes them back to the city.
It's a little before six when they're dropped off at their hotel, the sun starting to sink towards the horizon, but the day still nice and warm. They decide to grab an early dinner and end up at the outdoor restaurant again, which really does have amazing food. Tonight, there's even live music and a belly dancer to entertain the guests.
They opt for beer with dinner and then order mojitos for 'dessert', so by the time they make it back to their room, they're both a little unsteady on their feet and Clarke's trying to suppress an attack of the giggles. Bellamy leads her to the bed, where she flops onto her back, before he disappears into the bathroom.
She's still giggling on and off – she can't even remember what got her laughing in the first place, honestly – when he emerges again. The bed is large, she's not taking up more than two thirds of it, so he can slide under the sheets on his side without her having to move, but when he has, he nudges her shoulder.
"Go change and stuff," he says, and she rolls onto her side to look at him. "You know you'll regret it in the morning if you don't."
She heaves a sigh but does push herself to her feet and goes into the bathroom, where she pulls off her t-shirt and cargo shorts before washing her face and brushing her teeth.
Bellamy's propped up against the headboard when she leaves the bathroom, a well-thumbed paperback he found in the little impromptu library at their hotel in Athens in his hands, but she can tell from the tension in his shoulders and the way his eyes dart up to her as soon as he hears the door close that he's not actually reading.
"You OK?" she asks when she's crossed the room and gotten into bed next to him.
He puts the book away with a sigh and scoots down until he's horizontal, turning to face her.
"I don't know, I just got to thinking…"
"Bad idea," Clarke half-teases, getting a well-earned eye roll in return. "Seriously, what's bothering you?"
"Not bothering exactly, just… I don't know, it was something you said, about the whole line between accidental and intentional, I think."
She frowns, trying to remember what exactly she said, but she can't think of anything that would bring on some kind of crisis.
"It's not really related to that," he continues before she can say anything. "It just made me think."
"OK."
He takes a deep breath and scrubs his hand over his face, as if he needs time to figure out how to say whatever it is he's trying to say.
"I know we talked about the whole trying to trick my Number, getting past the whole… day," he then says, confusing her even further.
"Yeah…" She can't help the way her eyes dart to his forehead and the Number there. 115. They talked about the whole situation just last week, when Raven called about her findings, but she hasn't really paid much attention to his actual Number for a while. She reaches out, pushing a few curls away from his forehead, letting her finger linger on the Number for just a moment.
Bellamy's hand comes up to wrap around her wrist and he pulls her hand away, pressing a kiss against her palm before tucking her hand against his chest.
"Like I said, it made me think," he continues. "What if… if something happens before that day. What then?"
She tries to wrap her mind around his words, connect them to her own from earlier. It's not hard, not really, but she doesn't want to understand him. Because that would mean…
"You mean if something happens to you before your Number's up," she clarifies anyway, to not have to focus on her own thoughts.
His forehead furrows at her words. "Is that where that expression comes from?"
Clarke has to take a moment to recalibrate her thoughts to be able to think about his question. "I honestly don't know," she admits. "I guess it could be."
"Cool. So? What would happen?"
She looks away from his questioning gaze, down at his hand where it's covering hers against his chest.
"Your Number's set," she starts. "But that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want as long as you still have days left. I don't actually know what would happen, but my best guess? You'd end up unconscious or in a coma, waiting out the time."
The room is silent for a long moment – or at least it feels like a long moment – after her words, before Bellamy speaks again.
"That's pretty much what I figured. You OK?"
"Fine." She tries to pull her hand away so she can roll away from him, but he won't let her go.
"Hey," he says, voice soft, releasing her hand only to be able to lift her chin with a finger so she has to look at him. "I was just curious, you didn't think I would…"
"No," she cuts him off. "Of course not." But his eyes are burning into hers, and she knows she won't be able to lie. "OK, maybe a little…"
He shakes his head, an amused look on his face as if it's completely ridiculous to even think something like that. And maybe it is.
"If you think I would give up a single second with you to try to stick it to some higher power, you don't know me at all."
It shouldn't be such a big relief that it actually is. No matter what, she's losing him in a few months. But still, hearing the words make her insides settle and she lets out a breath. "OK."
He slides an arm around her, pulling her close, and she tucks her head under his chin.
"I want all the time with you I can possibly get," he assures her, voice just above a whisper. "And it still won't be enough."
Clarke kisses his chest, pressing even closer. "I know."
-100-
They spend the next day, their last full day in Egypt, at the Egyptian museum. Clarke considered getting a guided tour of the museum as well, but in the end, she decided against it, which turns out to be a good choice since they get to the museum right after it opens and stay until it closes.
For all Bellamy said that he didn't know all that much about ancient Egypt, he's still an amazing guide through the different exhibits at the museum. They check out ancient pieces of papyrus scrolls, coins of different materials, statues and sarcophagi – which is apparently the plural of sarcophagus – on the lower floor before moving onto the upper floor, where they find artifacts from various tombs unearthed throughout the region, actually get to see real mummies and finally admire the Golden mask of Tutankhamun.
They've gone through the entire museum and are on the second lap, taking a closer look at things they just breezed past the first time around, when a guard approaches them and clears his throat.
"I am very sorry," he says with a heavy accent when they're both focused on him. "But the museum is closing. You are free to come back tomorrow."
He looks like he's expecting them to argue, hand on the walkie-talkie attached to his belt as if he's about to call for reinforcements. Do people actually refuse to leave a closed museum?
"Oh, shit, we're sorry," Bellamy apologizes, glancing at his watch. "We got caught up, didn't even realize it was getting late. We'll get out of your hair right away."
The guard frowns for a moment but then seems to pull himself together. "Thank you."
"No problem," Clarke assures him with a smile. "Just lead the way and we'll get going."
Their cooperation seems to put him in a good mood, and he gives them some insider information about the exhibits they pass on their way, waving them off with a smile at the exit.
They don't actually have time to go back the next morning, but Bellamy seems happy with the experience either way.
On the receptionist's recommendation, they get to the airport with more than three hours to spare the next morning, but they still only just make the flight to Amman, getting to the gate with fifteen minutes to spare before it closes.
"Phew," Bellamy exclaims when the plane's taken off and the 'Fasten your seatbelt' sign has been switched off. "That was cutting it close."
"Yeah," Clarke agrees. "Though, to be honest, I'm sort of counting on us missing at least one flight during this trip. I mean, I hope we won't, and it probably won't happen because we're late to the airport, but we have a lot of connecting flights, some with pretty short layovers. And we did already have one delayed flight, to Athens, if we'd had a connecting flight there we probably wouldn't have made it."
"Well, when you put it that way." He shifts so he's leaning against the wall of the plane, pushing the armrest between them up and pulling her against his chest. "And we have a couple of… overnight flights left, right?"
She feels her heart rate pick up a little at what she hopes is innuendo in his voice and half-turns so she can look at him. "Why Mr. Blake… are you talking about joining the mile high club?"
Bellamy's eyes dart from her to the aisle, but the cabin crew are preparing something in the galley at the front of the plane. They have the row to themselves and her voice is low enough it won't carry to the passengers on either side of them.
"I did say I would think about it," he replies, voice pitched low.
"And you decided you want to?"
"I reserve the right to change my mind," he says. "I might chicken out, but yeah, I think so."
Clarke turns more fully, so she can wrap an arm around him and bury her nose against his throat. "You couldn't have brought this up when we weren't on a plane?"
He chuckles a little, pulling her closer. "Sorry, I thought it would be a good time."
"Not really. But yes, to answer your question, we do have some more overnight flights."
"When?"
It's not like she has their itinerary memorized, so she has to check it on her phone.
"Well, Amman to the Seychelles is ten hours or so, but that's through Doha… the Seychelles to Agra is over twenty one hours total, but two pretty long stop overs on that one, which means not that much actual time on a plane… and nineteen hours from Agra to Beijing, but with three stop overs … I think the best bet would be the flight from Manila to Sydney, it's only eight hours, but no stop overs and it leaves at eight in the evening and lands at six in the morning, so we'll probably get dinner as soon as we've taken off and then they'll dim the lights to let people sleep."
"So that'll be in, what? A month and a half or so?"
She chuckles a little. "If you're eager we can give it a try on the flight to the Seychelles, I'm not sure how long each leg of that trip is."
"Nah, the Sydney flight will be fine," Bellamy decides. "It gives me a little more time to get used to the idea too. I'm still not saying we'll definitely do it, but maybe."
Clarke puts her phone away and snuggles in even closer.
"I'm good with maybe."
Chapter warnings: explicit sexual content, references to death and suicide