A/N: My contribution for the Bellarke 12 Days of Christmas prompt from on tumblr. A little late... posted all at once on Boxing Day, but it was the only way I could produce something for all 12. Mostly fluff and drabbles, some a bit dull I'm afraid (but once you've filled over half the prompts it seems silly not to fill them all), although BE WARNED my entries for Day 3 and 12 are mature (with Day 3's being particularly explicit).
Day 1 – Secret Santa
Octavia smiled at the huddled group with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. Her conspiratorial grin, suggesting she already had a scheme in motion, made them all a little nervous… there was no way she would be taking a no from any of them.
"So, you know how Clarke wants us all to do this Secret Santa thing, for morale or whatever…" This was not news, but they all leaned in a little closer anyway and continued to wait expectantly. "Well, I say we rig it!" she said gleefully. "We've already got the pool going for their inevitable "Unity Day." The exaggerated wink raised a few snickers. "You all want to see what they'd get each other for Christmas too, right?"
She didn't need to say anymore. Everyone was grinning now.
"Good one O. It would certainly give my morale a boost to watch Bellamy stressing about what to get for his Princess!" chuckled Raven.
There was a general murmur of assent before Monty piped up. "Yeah, it is a great plan O… but I think I've thought of a way to make it even better… we don't just rig it so they have to get a gift for each other. We rig it so we all get something for Bellamy or Clarke. I don't think any of the kids will mind. They've both done so much for us all it's the least we can do."
Miller gave his hand a squeeze of approval, as he leant in for a lingering kiss that spoke of his wonderment and pride at having such a beautiful man to call his own. Monty couldn't help but beam as Nathan sighed, "Perfect…" before turning back to the rest of the group. "It really is the least we can do!"
It was only after she was given her third present (a heart shaped stone from little Raj) that Clarke realised there was something up. As Murphy came towards her carrying something behind his back, there was no doubt – this was clearly more than just a mishap. She went to find Bellamy.
Walking into his quarters, she found him sitting at his desk scrabbling to hide something from view. "Didn't you ever hear of knocking Princess?"
She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, because you never come striding into my room unannounced!" She carried on in and plopped down onto the bed. "Besides, we have solid walls and proper doors now. Maybe you should actually shut yours if you don't want to be disturbed."
He gave her a little nudge as he leaned back in the chair and kicked his legs up on the bed beside her. "I'm guessing you didn't come in here just to sass me?" he replied with a grin. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"What's over there?" she asked, flicking her eyes to whatever Bellamy had thrown his jacket over when she'd arrived.
"Nothing."
"You're a terrible liar."
"Only with you. You can read me far too well."
"Let me guess… you got me for Secret Santa?"
He blinked. An affirmative.
"Yeah, well that makes you and apparently everyone else is Asphodel!" she sighed.
"What do you mean everyone? Ash gave me a gift about five minutes ago." He nodded to the new spear that was propped up by the door.
"Oh! But I got you too! I thought it was just to throw me off the scent."
A tentative knock interrupted them, as Monroe peered round the door frame. "Hi… Sorry to disturb you guys. I just wanted to give you your present." She tossed a parcel at Bellamy. "Have a good one… catch you later boss-man."
They watched the penny drop simultaneously in the other's eyes.
By lunchtime they were just about over the discomfort – neither was very good at accepting the sincere admiration of others. Although humility was a word rarely associated with Bellamy Blake (thanks to his ability to act like a total ass half the time around Clarke), neither of them had stopped to consider that their roles in the group were actually deserving of genuine praise. As far as they were concerned, they were just doing what needed to be done, and imperfectly at that – they hadn't realised the kids didn't see it that way. It was more than just respect, they were appreciated and they were loved. When the realisation finally dawned it had made Clarke cry.
By nightfall they'd both amassed a range of sweet and/or practical gifts, and found themselves sitting down to a veritable banquet, scrubbed, and in new clothes.
"I don't think I've smelled this good since Mount Weather," Clarke sighed. She felt happy and blessed after today, if a little embarrassed at all the attention.
Bellamy glanced up involuntarily, looking away again quickly. She could read him like a book and she really didn't need to know that he was picturing sweeping her hair back over her shoulder, tucking any stray strands behind her ear… or how much he longed to stand behind her, nuzzling her neck, breathing her in.
She flushed at his reaction – his sudden embarrassment, the consciousness of what lay behind it, triggering a near identical image in her own mind. In her vision there was no table in the way… she was astride him in the chair as he trailed kisses along her neck and his fingers tangled in her hair.
She stood to clear the image from her brain. "We haven't exchanged our presents yet," she said a little too brightly.
"Do we have to?"
"What's up? It's not like you've forgotten. You were wrapping it when I came in first thing this morning." Nothing gets past her.
"It's not that." Did he actually sound nervous? Thank God! Clearly she hadn't been the only one avoiding this all day.
"How about we do it together? On the count of three?"
He cocked an eyebrow.
"Mind out of the gutter Blake," she laughed. "You know what I mean."
They went to get the presents and stood facing one another, looking about as far removed from the confident leaders they were as they could get.
"On the count of three?"
"OK"
"1… 2… 3…"
They handed over the parcels, the one from Bellamy heavy enough that Clarke had to rest it on the table.
They tore at the wrapping. Bellamy unveiling what seemed at first to be a thin leather-bound book, until he opened it to reveal a stunning portrait of Octavia. Clarke, meanwhile, had discovered an ornate, hand carved box as the scarf he'd wrapped it in fell away. Her fingers traced the patterns and images, the moon in its phases, a diadem, and gorgeous threads of medicinal plants that could have been lifted straight from the pages of the Botanical Compendium she'd been working so hard on, carefully illustrating each entry… They spoke in unison.
"Oh, Bellamy it's beautiful!"
"Thanks Clarke, it's amazing!"
"There's two more..."
"Open it."
Bellamy was curious. He clearly loved it… why would Clarke still be nervous? He opened the other leaf of the tri-fold album.
There were indeed two more pictures, one of a busy day in Asphodel's town square, and…
"Mom?!... But how did you…?" He traced a finger over the image of his mother in wonder.
"Octavia described her to me and helped me get it close. I knew you didn't have anything of hers. I've got Dad's watch at least… so I thought…" She reached out to him, "Oh Bell! I'm sorry!"
He had begun to cry, silent tears streaking his face as he stared down at the portraits.
"I'm sorry Bell," she said softly, "I didn't want to upset you."
It felt strange. The number of times he had held her in his arms, cradling her as she cried, comforting her in her darkest moments… and now here she was, holding him close as he sobbed into her shoulder.
She'd seen him vulnerable of course… plenty of times. Even before they'd truly liked one another, they'd built a trust that had allowed them to break down in front of the other – it was the only way they could stay strong for everyone else. But this was different. He wasn't pushed to the brink, or needing an outlet at breaking-point – this was a release of sorts, him opening up, losing a weight he'd been carrying for far too long. And he'd never sought her out like this before, never found comfort in her physical embrace. Normally the touch of her hand or a kind word had been enough. She didn't think he'd clung onto her like this since she'd escaped from Mount Weather, so very long ago… overwhelmed to find her in his arms – alive – it had felt as though he had never wanted to let her go. And now, once again, he was holding her so tightly it was as if he feared they might be torn apart.
His voice was muffled, his face still hidden in the crook of her neck. "Thank you Clarke. I can't…"
She didn't know what to say, so she just held him.
He ghosted a reverential kiss on her cheek before letting her go. "Thank you."
Taken aback by the tenderness, she unwittingly traced the spot with her fingertips.
"Maybe you should open the box now?"
It took a moment to comprehend what he'd said, and another to break the gaze.
He watched her move to the table… her fingers fluttering over the carvings… undoing the clasp… How had he ended up here? From a life in ruins to this place… home, family, the most beautiful woman on Earth right here, her golden hair haloed in the candlelight, her gift to him the most precious he'd ever received – it was all Clarke… she was his saviour, his maker – Clarke had made him a better man.
Her gasp, as she lifted the lid, interrupted his reverie.
The box contained a necklace, and it was possibly the most beautiful object she'd ever seen. She lifted it out delicately, holding it up to the light. The stone was the colour of the sky on a perfect summer's day. The surrounding metalwork was somehow both natural like vines, and industrial like The Ark.
"I thought it matched your eyes."
"Thank you Bellamy! I've never seen anything like it. It's stunning." Walking over to the mirror, she went to put it on.
"Here… let me."
He brushed her hair out of the way, in a gesture eerily similar to the one in his earlier vision, and slipped the chain around her neck, his cold fingers making her start slightly as he fastened it securely. "Only the best for the woman I love."
Startled, their eyes met in the reflection, both a little mesmerized by the image they made and the words he'd just uttered so naturally.
He had said it because it was true. Her wide-eyed look of surprise as she spun round to face him made it even more so.
He took a step closer, a little sheepish now… "I hope that's OK?"
She still hadn't said anything, and was looking a little dazed… "King to Lionheart – do you copy?"
She laughed then, at his use of their radio call-signs. After that she simply couldn't stop beaming, not even as he kissed her.
It wasn't the first time they'd kissed. There had been drunken pecks, and the odd heated make-out session to release some tension or pent up aggression, not to mention the couple of occasions when they'd been so relieved to see each other that an embrace didn't quite cut it and peppered, thankful kisses had finished with a lingering one on the mouth, or that one time they'd feared it was their final good-bye.
This one though, it felt momentous somehow, like the world had shifted a little. There were tears in her eyes again, for the second time that day, as she felt she was brimming with joy.
He brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb, looking a little solemn until his grin shone through.
"I love you too Bellamy."
A/N: In my headcanon for their settlement, Bellamy suggests they name it Asphodel. According to Wikipedia, in Ancient mythology: 'The soul would be sent to Elysium, Tartarus, Asphodel Fields, or the Fields of Punishment. The Elysian Fields were for the ones that lived pure lives. It consisted of green fields, valleys and mountains, everyone there was peaceful and contented, and the Sun always shone there… The Asphodel Fields were for a varied selection of human souls: Those whose sins equalled their goodness… or were not judged.'