a/n Thanks to those who read and reviewed the last chapter! This is, in fact, the penultimate chapter of this story, so I hope you enjoy!
Clarke is generally slow to trust, and she thinks that's pretty understandable, given her life story. But she finds herself trusting the terrorist who leads these Eligius prisoners with surprising ease. And it's not because of the obvious respect in Diyoza's eyes every time she interacts with Madi, or not entirely so. It's because, logically speaking, there is no good reason not to trust Diyoza.
Sure, the woman has a history. But which of them here, in this valley, does not? Their peace has been hard won, and they have all seen more than their fair share of bloodshed. Clarke knows that she would be the biggest hypocrite in the world if she mistrusted this newcomer just because of her body count. Even more compelling as an argument to trust Diyoza are their circumstances – she seems bright enough to understand that starting a war with people who know Earth and who are comfortably in control of the one patch of green land on the planet would be foolish beyond belief.
So it is that Clarke welcomes Diyoza onto the council with almost literal open arms. Anyone who is that impressed with Madi clearly has good taste, and is a friend in her book. And Clarke has even deadlier friends, anyway, so if her newest chum gets out of line she figures she can just have Echo assassinate her easily enough.
Feeling strangely buoyant, Clarke shares this idea with Diyoza a week after they move the Eligius prisoners into the valley.
Diyoza lets out a throaty laugh and grins at Madi. "Don't you worry, Clarke. Thanks for the warning, but I'm not planning to cause trouble. I know when I'm outclassed. And I'm tired."
Clarke can understand that. She can understand being tired of fighting, can understand being tired of death and destruction and guilt. But then Clarke sees Diyoza's gaze flickering over the slight bump of her belly, and she wonders if there might be something else going on here as well.
"I'm tired, too." She offers, resting a hand on her stomach with no attempt at subtlety.
Diyoza narrows her eyes at her, and Clarke becomes increasingly convinced that her hunch was right. They sit there without speaking for a couple of moments, as the other members of the council enter and start taking seats around them, and the two of them stare each other down even while Bellamy wanders over and drops a gentle kiss on Clarke's forehead.
And the Diyoza breaks her silence.
"You can't call yours Hope." She says, fixing the pair of them with an expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace. "That's already taken."
"That's a good name." Clarke offers mildly.
And then the meeting is starting, and the subject is dropped.
"I think we should have a peace party." Madi begins, and even Indra softens a little at the suggestion from this Commander who is still sometimes so childlike in her enthusiasm.
"A peace party?" Monty prompts her, leaning forward in his chair.
"Yeah. We should share food and get to know the Eligius people and you adults can all drink too much moonshine."
Kara Cooper turns to Monty with raised brows. "We'd better get brewing, then."
Bellamy leans back in his chair, grinning widely, and even after all these years Clarke finds that she is unable to keep the smile off her face at the sight of him so relaxed and happy. She finds that it does her good, really, to see all of her friends and family at peace with the world, as even Kane looks rather less worn out than he has done since leaving the bunker.
"That sounds like a lovely idea." She tells Madi, trying not to cry from sheer happiness. It's been a long time coming, but she cannot think of a village more deserving of a peace party.
…...
Echo has been looking forward to the peace party since the moment it was announced. This is partly because it is a peace party, and she has grown rather more fond of peace since she first scorned Monty and his peacemaking ways on the Ring all those years ago. She's been swayed by the opinions of her Spacekru friends, since then, and has been influenced in particular by the idea that it might be a bit easier to work on having a bright future with Raven if people aren't threatening their lives all the damn time.
But mostly she's looking forward to it because it is a party, and because she seems to remember that people dance at parties, and drink at parties, and she reckons that the combination of those two things could lead to a little making out if the circumstances are right. And things have been going so well between her and Raven recently, the two of them growing more relaxed and Raven being almost affectionate when Echo was about to set off on that mission the other day, so she reckons that this is as good an opportunity as ever to make an attempt at suggesting that the two of them might go to this party together.
So that's what she's working on, now. She's lurking behind a storage shed and trying to work up the courage to stride into Raven's workshop and ask if they might, perhaps, have a go at going to this party as an actual couple. She could have asked her this morning, of course, as their hands brushed across the breakfast table, or last night as they sat much too close on the sofa for much too long, but somehow she couldn't quite work up the courage. It turns out that the type of bravery needed to conduct a spy mission in hostile territory and the type of courage needed to admit she's fallen in love are substantially different.
She takes two steps forward, then falters again. She's nearly at the workshop, now, can just about hear Raven's voice drifting through the window. She can do this, she knows she can. And she's pretty confident that Raven will say yes, based on the way things have been going lately. All she needs to do is manage those last few paces and -
She hears another voice and recoils in horror. Because there is another person inside that workshop, and by that she doesn't mean Emori. No, she can hear that engineer who came down with the Eligius prisoners, that Shaw guy with the smarmy smile and the clever chat about thrusters and the completely unnecessary way that he's always invading Raven's personal space.
Echo didn't think Raven liked it. She was absolutely convinced that she hated it, in fact. So what on Earth is Shaw doing inside the workshop, now?
She hovers, out of sight, listening closely. Apparently some habits from her spy years are not so easily broken.
"Are you looking forward to the peace party?" Shaw asks, and Echo rather wants to vomit.
"Yeah." Raven says, voice warm with excitement. "It should be great. Monty's cooking up some moonshine, and Murphy's working on a playlist. He reckons we need something we can actually dance to, not those old tunes Clarke and Bellamy are so obsessed with."
"Sounds good." Shaw says, and Echo can just imagine his damn smug grin. "So listen, Raven. I was thinking a girl like you should have someone to dance with. What do you say we go to this party together?"
The silence that follows is the longest of Echo's life, although she knows it lasts scarcely a second.
"Thanks for the invitation."
Echo doesn't stay to hear any more. She doesn't need to. She turns and flees back to the house, and wonders why in the name of sanity she ever thought it was a good idea to share a house with that cold-hearted snob. There can be no avoiding her, she realises. She will simply have to grin and bear it, and survive watching the woman she's spent six years slowly falling for dance in the arms of a man she's known for barely six days.
…...
Echo doesn't stop by the workshop for lunch, and Raven's a bit worried about that, really. Sharing lunch is something that started occurring a few weeks ago – or maybe it's a few months, by now. Either way, it's a thing they do, usually, even though it's not something they've ever really bothered discussing. It is just what happens.
Only it doesn't happen today, and that sours Raven's mood. She was hoping that they might have a chance to chat over their rations, maybe share their excitement about tonight's party. They discussed it a lot last night, of course, but she's pretty sure there is still more to be said on the subject. She doesn't think she will ever get tired of wondering out loud what will happen at this first party they are to attend together.
Of course, they haven't actually declared that they are going together, or at least not out loud. But Raven's certain that it is happening all the same. She's pretty sure there is no other way of interpreting a conversation about slow dancing between two people curled up on a sofa together who once drunkenly made out a little. And they've been gradually working on a bit of openness, these last few months, and she's rather hopeful that, under the influence of moonlight and moonshine, they might have a go at some more making out. So, yeah, she thinks she's right to be confident that they're going together, and that's why she turned down Shaw without so much as a twinge of regret when he invited her to be his date earlier.
She almost laughs at the thought. Why did he even bother? She's pretty sure that every remaining member of the human race knows she's spoken for.
So, yeah, she misses Echo at lunch time, and it makes her distinctly grumpy, but she does her best to keep her chin up. She leaves the workshop rather a lot earlier than usual, and heads back to the house. She figures it might be fun to get ready together, to check out each other's outfits even if they are working with limited wardrobes. And maybe Raven can tell the story of Shaw trying to ask her out, and they can giggle at it a little, and it might be the hint that Echo has been waiting for that finally, at long last, they are on the same page.
She gets home to a deserted house, which surprises her. She didn't think Echo was scheduled for patrol today, but her bow is gone, as is her quiver and her pack, so apparently she has gone out somewhere.
Growing still grumpier, she sinks onto the sofa and wonders what to do now. What kind of person disappears on a non-existent patrol when they could be at home chatting to their date about their upcoming plans? Has Raven perhaps managed to misread the situation horribly, and are they maybe not going on a date after all?
No. That's absurd. Everyone knows they're basically an item. They've been sharing a house since they got here, for goodness' sake, and no pair of platonic friends she's ever seen are quite as physical as the two of them have been, of late.
She forces herself to calm down a little, and goes to choose an outfit for something to do. It's a task that shouldn't take very long, for a level-headed engineer who only owns four sets of clothes, but on this occasion she somehow manages to spend entire hours on endlessly changing her mind and faffing with her hair and being, somehow, perpetually dissatisfied.
She just needs Echo to come home. The house is always calmer, somehow, when Echo is inside it.
Time passes, and Raven hears the music strike up outside and the atmosphere begin to get lively, yet Echo is still not back from wherever on Earth she's gone and Raven finds herself torn between concern and anger. She doesn't want to believe that she's been stood up, but the alternative is that the woman she's in love with is currently being mauled by bears, or something, and that is certainly even worse.
She is on the point of running into the middle of the party to alert Clarke to the need to send out a rescue mission when the door bursts open and Echo strides into the room, kicking her boots off with unwarranted force.
"Raven?" She freezes, balancing on one leg, even as her second boot flies towards the heap of footwear by the door.
"Echo." She's not sure whether to pull her into a relieved hug or ask what the hell she thinks she's doing, coming home so late. "Where were you?"
"Out." Echo offers, as if that is a valid answer. And she's frowning hard, taking in Raven's outfit as if she doesn't like it one bit, and Raven feels the bottom fall out of her world. She knew it was stupid to spend so much time dressing up for this. As if someone as strong as Echo, who has spent half her life in the field, would set any store by a hairstyle. Suddenly self-conscious, Raven scrunches at her hair and wonders whether Echo is judging her for putting so much effort into something so petty.
At last, Raven can bear it no longer. "What is it?" She asks. "What's wrong?"
"You look nice." Echo offers, turning her head away suddenly. "You – err – you look really good."
Raven breathes a sigh of relief and steps a little nearer, although she still doesn't quite dare to go for a hug. "Thanks. Are we going now or do you want to change?"
"Change?" Echo seems puzzled by the idea, and Raven kicks herself for suggesting it. Probably it sounded rude, she frets.
"What you're wearing is fine. You look great. We can get going if you want."
Echo is still frowning, but now she's frowning down at her own feet. "I – I don't feel well. I think I'm just going to stay here." Raven feels her heart sink at that, but tells herself that it's a silly reaction. She has a lifetime ahead of her to dance with Echo, she hopes, as long as she doesn't screw up too badly in the meantime.
"If you don't feel well, why did you spend the afternoon running around the forest?" She chides with a gentleness that surprises even herself as she walks over and places a hand softly on Echo's arm. "Come on, sit down. Let me get you some water."
"No!" Echo insists with, Raven feels, unwarranted force. "No. You don't need to do anything. Honestly, I'm fine, you should just go enjoy your evening."
It is Raven's turn to feel confused, now. "How could I enjoy my evening while you're sitting here feeling like crap?"
"Don't worry about me. Really. Go have fun with Shaw." With that, suddenly, all of the puzzle pieces fall into place.
"Shaw?"
"Shaw." Echo confirms, still avoiding eye contact as she allows herself to be led to the sofa.
Raven sinks into a seat at her side and tries not to laugh. She has a feeling that laughing will not help, just now, however ridiculous the situation may be. She pulls Echo into a fierce hug instead, and wonders where to begin.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" She decides to start there, arms still wrapped tight around Echo, head resting on her shoulder. "You call yourself a spy? Yet you failed to notice what everyone else in this entire village has noticed? That there's no way I would go to this party with anyone other than you?"
Echo stops breathing at that. Raven can feel her freeze in shock. "You – I – what?"
"I'm going with you. If you'll have me, that is."
"I think I've been pretty clear on that point." Echo mutters, beginning to relax and take in oxygen once again.
Raven laughs. "Yeah. I'm – I'm sorry it took me so long to catch up with you, Echo. But – I think I'm ready now."
"Ready?" Echo queries, daring to look up and meet her eyes.
Raven sees the eagerness in her gaze and decides that, probably, this has gone on quite long enough. If she keeps questioning her best chance at happiness, she figures she's going to lose it just like she has lost so many chances before.
She therefore gathers her courage, and kisses Echo full on the lips. And there is a moment, one horrific moment, when Echo freezes and she wonders whether, perhaps, she has just ruined everything.
And then she starts kissing her back, tentatively at first, then with a flattering enthusiasm that has warmth pooling in the pit of her stomach. And suddenly Raven's world is shrinking to a pair of soft lips against hers, to the firm insistence with which Echo kisses. Somehow Raven always knew she would be like that – firm insistence is how she does most things, after all. And then Raven is tangling her fingers in Echo's hair and trying not to dig her nails into her scalp, but it's difficult because she needs more of her, closer, all at once, and before she can think better of it she's leaning back onto the sofa and pulling Echo down with her.
They break apart then, breathless and giggling, Echo hovering above her and shifting her weight in an effort to avoid crushing her bad leg.
"Stop fussing and kiss me." Raven recommends.
Echo has always been good at following orders, of course, so she does not disappoint. And it's wonderful, really it is, feeling her reassuring weight pressing her into the sofa and having the chance to explore the curves of her bum and the strength of her shoulders and everything in between, but as Echo reaches for her waistband Raven cannot help but remember that there is a reason why she is dressed like this.
"No." She whispers, pulling away from her lips slightly.
Echo freezes in horror, snatches her hands away, and bolts to her feet. "Sorry." She mutters, looking absolutely frantic. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to – I thought – I -"
Raven sits up and reaches out for Echo's hand. "That's not what I meant. I didn't mean I don't want to try that. I meant – I meant not yet. You see, I'm all dressed up for a party and my date only just got home so we're running late and I think we ought to get going."
Echo offers her a tentative smile. "Sure you don't just want to stay home and take this to the bedroom?"
"Tempting." Raven concedes, standing up to press a brief kiss to her lips. "But I really do want to go to this party. I want to slow dance with you, and kiss you in front of our friends until they're bored of us being like that in public, and show the whole village that we finally got our act together."
She can see Echo's eyes grow wide at that, a contented grin gracing those distractingly kissable lips.
"Sounds like a plan." She agrees, and they walk out the door hand in hand.
…...
Bellamy is nervous for reasons that go far beyond the perils of balancing a wriggling three-year-old on his shoulders – although, if he's being honest, the way that Gus is attempting to scramble free is not exactly helping the anxiety simmering in the pit of his stomach.
He rearranges his grip on his son's ankles and looks around him. The party is in full swing, with all the lively dancing and carefree drinking he might expect of such an occasion, and it is good to see all his friends and family so relaxed and happy. Miller and Jackson are having some sort of dance-off on one corner of the dance floor, while Raven and Echo hold each other with undisguised joy a little way away. Harper cannot stop grinning, and Monty is evidently fussing over her, and the whole scene looks really rather festive.
But Bellamy is nervous, because he has a question to ask Clarke. He has had a question to ask her since at least the moment John and Emori announced their engagement, he thinks, but possibly even since she first warned him not to open that dropship door. And it's an important question, and a frightening one, and a question that he thinks he is supposed to ask at some romantic moment such as a peace party.
OK, he never quite planned to ask it with a toddler balancing on his shoulders. But it seems that he can't afford to be choosy, just now, as the night is drawing on and he's still not had a moment alone with her to get the words out.
The music starts to grow slower, and he realises that this is probably Murphy's way of warning them that the party is winding down. He needs to corner Clarke, now, or he will not have the chance to ask her tonight. He sets out across the floor to where she stands chatting to her mother, ignoring Gus as he gurgles in some confusion as to why there is suddenly so much bouncing. He arrives at his destination, and asks in a voice that only shakes a little whether he can speak to Clarke.
Abby looks surprised. That's a pretty understandable reaction, he supposes – nervously asking to speak to the woman he's been living with for the last five and a half years is maybe a bit unusual.
"What's wrong?" Clarke asks when her mother is out of earshot. She looks alarmed, and it makes him pause for a moment and take stock of the situation. He didn't mean to scare her, but he supposes that he might look a bit of a nervous wreck just now.
"Nothing's wrong." He tries to sound reassuring. "I just wanted to talk about something."
"So talk." She offers him a gentle smile, and he swallows down his anxiety. It seems that he is indeed going to find himself asking this question with an excited toddler squirming around on his shoulders.
"Yeah. OK." He swallows again, with difficulty. "I'm sorry, I guess this isn't the most romantic location. And I was wondering about arranging a dinner with you or whatever, but we never seem to have the time. And there are the kids as well – anyway. I don't want you to think that I'm only asking this because of John and Emori, because really it's something I've been wondering about for years, but I wasn't sure if getting married was a thing anyone did any more. So – yeah – I really would have asked you before them and -"
"Yes." She cuts off his senseless babbling not a moment too soon.
"Yes?" He wonders whether she is agreeing with the concept, or actually agreeing to his mangled proposal.
"Yes." She nods firmly, reaches up to press a firm kiss to his lips. "We should get married. That is what you were trying to ask, isn't it?"
"Definitely." He rushes to reassure her, feeling rather more confident now that she seems to be on board with the idea. "Clarke, will you marry me?"
She buries her face in his chest at that, and Gus takes advantage of the opportunity to kick her affectionately with his energetic little toes.
"Yes." She murmurs, squeezing him tight around the waist for good measure. "Of course I will, Bellamy. What was there to get so nervous about?"
"I wanted to do it right." He tries to explain, feeling suddenly foolish. "I didn't want you to think I was only asking because our friends are doing it, and I've been trying to find a good moment all evening but I wasn't sure when to do it."
She pulls back just far enough to kiss him once more. "It doesn't matter how you ask me, Bellamy. You know I'm not going to be sentimental about a thing like that. All that matters to me is that we're getting married."
Yes. That is a sentiment he can definitely agree with.
He wants to celebrate this moment, wants to fix it in his memory forever. He suspects that this is about as good as evenings get, with the beautiful woman his world revolves around telling him that marrying him is all that matters to her. And he's got his adorable son on his shoulders, playing cheerfully with his hair, and he's got his wonderfully talented daughter dancing about the place with her friends and family, and, yes, he reckons that life does not get better than this.
Only then, of course, Madi barrels into him with the force of a small dropship crashing to Earth, and knocks the air out of his lungs as he staggers sideways and clutches desperately at his Gus' ankles to keep him safely in place. And Clarke laughs at him, of course, because she's always been impossibly comfortable making light of his minor misfortunes, and then Madi is laughing, and then they are all laughing and hugging. And Madi is still embracing that adolescent rebellion phase, telling him that it was a crap marriage proposal, Dad, and earning herself a reproving glare from Clarke for her language, and then, at last he gets it.
This is it. This very moment. Life really doesn't get better than this.
a/n Thanks for reading!