Our arrival is quiet, and no one hesitates to start working. I smile with pride at our people, the old and the new, working together to make this place our home.

Octavia and Lincoln have cleared a spot first, sweeping it clear using evergreen branches as sort of makeshift brooms. Once the others see this, they follow their lead and the clearing of the ashes goes very smoothly. Clarke immediately went to the Drop Ship to clean it out and set up the equipment her mother sent with us. I started to salvage through the wreckage, trying to find anything useful. There isn't much we can work with, but I found a few wall-shaped pieces of metal that might be useful for making shelters. I sigh. I'd really like to be able to call the structures we are going to build homes. But they won't be ready for that title. These will be the minimum to get us through the winter. I make a pile of the scraps, and when I look up, I see Clarke craning her head and looking around.
"Hey princess! Over here!" I bellow out to her. She turns in the direction of my voice, and smiles fully when she sees me. I smile back, and she is making her way to me. I open my arms to her, and when she is close enough, she practically jumps into them. I hold her close, and I think that I can feel her smile and warmth radiating from her into me. She pulls back slightly so her words won't be lost in my shoulder.
"The drop ship is ready. Do you need help here? I could... What are you doing?" I smirk at how her brow creases in confusion.
"I, princess, am trying to salvage some of the material from our old campsite. Not much can be used though... It's too damaged." I lick my lips nervously, not sure how we're going to manage to pull this off. She sighs.
"Damn. How many shelters can we build with the material we have?"
"I think about twelve. That's not enough for our forty six...How many people do we have?"
"Hmmm...well, according to our list...there are only twenty extra...so sixty six."
"So with twelve cabins, that's five or six people in each...yeah that won't work for most of us... I was thinking that someone could live out of the top level of the Drop Ship."She says in a thoughtful tone. Her eyebrows are knitted together in concentration, her brain trying to work out the details.

"Why not? I mean, there might actually be a fight over it. Lots of space and privacy..." My voice drops off at the thought of the possibilities.
"Yeah... Ahem..." Her eyes have gone wide with realization of what I am getting at.
"Even if we live in the Drop Ship, we still need more supplies so we can build more shelters."
"Absolutely." There is an awkward silence and I am looking down at the ground when someone comes over to us.

"Clarke! There you are! I've been looking all over the place for you! I brought you some things...from the Mountain. I thought maybe you would want them..." Jasper says in an unsure tone, holding out a duffle bag. Clarke takes it from him, and kneels on the ground with it to look at the contents. She pulls out sketchbooks. And pencils. Pastels. Charcoal. Colored pencils. And even some watercolor paints. She looks up at Jasper.
"Jasper... Thank you so much. I... Didn't think I would ever see this stuff again... It means a lot. Thank you." She says ,her voice full of gratitude. She gets up, and steps over the repacked bag, and hugs him.
"No problem. I thought it would help you...you know...cope?" He laughs nervously when she releases him.
"Aww, thanks!" She says, and I can hear her smile in her voice.
"Alright, well, I'm gonna go. See you guys!" Jasper says in his awkward way of exiting. Clarke turns to me with the duffle bag slung over her shoulder, and beckons me to come with her in the direction of the Drop Ship. I follow without a word.
We go up the ladder and I shut the hatch behind me. She pats a spot on the bed (which she had put up here by herself, no doubt) beside her for me to sit down, the bag situated in front of her.

"I want you to know, that no one else has ever been shone my work by me. Anyone else who has seen it, found it n their own. I don't like to show this to anyone, because it is personal. I think of it as a sort of journal, a record of things I see. And when I look at the pages, I remember my feelings from the drawing's inspiration. So..." She says softly, almost mumbling to herself. She extends a sketchbook to me. I carefully take the weathered book in my hands, and open it.

The first drawing is a simple flower, intricate details of its form etched into the jaw goes slightly slack, and my lips part marginally to form an 'O' as I take in the beauty of it, my mind feeling the peace somehow inlaid into the image. Finn is the next image in the book, crouching to the ground, looking at a track in the dirt. His face is obscured by that long hair of his, only pieces of it visible through the hair. I swallow thickly as I think of him, wishing he could have been spared. But his actions in that camp of grounders damned him. This picture made him look innocent, the light from above filtering through the trees, casting a sort of spot light onto him. She really knew how to get the fine details into her work. I envy her talent. I can't draw a stick figure worth boasting about.
Next, there is a drawing of the two-faced deer that we encountered that first day. It almost looks like it might leap off the page, away from my view. I am smiling at her work, and she sits beside me, her eyes on my face, watching my reaction.

"This is fantastic. Where did you learn to draw?" I ask, turning toward her. She shrugs, biting at the inside of her cheek, showing just how nervous she is.
"Nowhere, really. I just ...knew. I can't explain how... I...can feel the movements my hand would make with the pencil when I really look at something. That sounds pretty weird, but it's true." She says softly, her eyes darting all over the place, unfocused as she describes her process to me. She is so beautiful.
I cup her face in my hands, and pull her lips to mine, moving my lips against hers, seeking entrance with my tongue, gliding it over the soft skin there. She opens her mouth slightly, and I dart inside, my tongue dancing back and forth with hers until we come up for air, our breath ragged.

Her sketchbook is set aside, and the duffle bag is moved out of my way. I crouch before her, my hands on either side of her hips, and my breath comes in shallow rasps. Her legs have parted for me, and I move closer, wanting to close the gap between us. I lean to Clarke's neck, and start placing gentle kisses to the sensitive skin. She lets out a strangled moan, and her arms pull me closer. I want nothing more than to claim her as my own, to shout on mountains that Clarke Griffin is the woman I love, and that I am the luckiest man on earth because despite my flaws, this wonderful angel has come to love me.
I suck at her neck, and she doesn't hold back the moan that comes from her lips. My sucking is gentle at first, but it becomes more potent when my teeth graze her skin, causing her to take a breath in sharply.
"Bellamy..." She moans in my ear, and I leave her neck for her lips. Her hands are clawing at my jacket, and I let go of her momentarily to ease out of it. I let out a groan of surprise when she lunges at me while I've pulled away, her mouth hot in my neck as she kisses and sucks at one spot, determined to leave a mark of her own on me. She bites my neck, and my hands wind themselves around her, pulling her body to mine.
"Oh Princess..." I murmur into the air as she finally moves back up to my lips, placing soft kisses as she goes. She hums in response, and I slide her jacket off of her. She has her eyes cast toward my belt, and when she looks to me for approval, my answer is made known by my actions, as I grab at her belt to unfasten it. I can feel her hands shaking as she tries to get mine, so I take them off, and remove the belt myself. She smiles gratefully at me, and gives me another deep kiss, holding onto my hips for support as she leans into the kiss. Suddenly, she pulls away, and sits back on the bed, hands on thighs, her eyes cast down to something indeterminable.

"I... I don't think I can do this now.I.. I'm so...so... sorry.I'm not ... " She looks up when her speech drifts away, the look in her eyes so defeated, I gather her small form in my arms and cradle her to my chest.

"Ready?" I finish for her,and she nods against my shoulder.

"No problem, Clarke. I'll wait. However long it takes. I know everything has been so hard for you. I... just... can we keep the steamy making out to a minimum until you are ready though? You're driving me crazy princess.." I say plainly, stroking out the tangles in her hair.

AN: I'm SO sorry I double posted this. I fixed the problem, and will be posting a new chapter soon.