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Chapter 17

Mel had been running for a week, always looking over her shoulder for the retribution she was sure was coming. She had wandered aimlessly until one day she looked up and found Mount Weather looming above her.

She walked slowly to the entrance, fear clawing at her throat. Suddenly a hand closed around her bicep. She screamed, trying to jerk out of her captor's grip. The hand fell away, and she was able to turn to see the person who'd startled her.

Before her stood a man, ragged and filthy. He was a giant of a man, his head shaven, and his dark eyes piercing. There was something sorrowful about him, something that tugged at her heart.

"Who are you", Mel asked, her voice shaking.

"I am Tarren", the man said gruffly.

The Grounder stared at the woman, her dark hair cascading about her shoulders and her sea green eyes serious as she observed him.

"What are you doing here", he asked.

"I'm no longer welcome with my people, and looking for sanctuary."

Tarren took pity on the woman, leading her to his small shelter and fire. He gave her a piece of fish and the meager supply of berries he had left.

"Why are you here", she asked quietly.

Mel watched as the Grounder stiffened, and she feared she'd gone too far.

"I am here because this is where my love died", the man said, his tone void of emotion.

"I'm sorry", Mel replied.

"You remind me much of her", the man said quietly.

Mel didn't know what it was like to be loved like that- loved so much that it would destroy someone to lose her. Her father had been happy to be rid of her, and people generally avoided her- until Bellamy.

He hadn't even known her, and he'd saved her life. He showed her a great kindness, and she would never forget that. He deserved to be loved by someone who wouldn't leave him- someone who would stand by his side instead of running when times got tough.

In that moment Mel decided she wouldn't give up. Bellamy was worth the wait- worth the plotting she would have to do in order to free him from Clarke's grasp. She just knew that if she could get him away from the destructive blonde that he would see how much he truly needed her and grow to lover her as she loved him.

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It had been three days of bliss for Clarke. She woke up in Bellamy's arms every morning, and fell asleep with him every night. Her love for him grew with each day making it harder and harder for her not to voice her feelings out loud.

She looked over at Raven where she sat sprawled in the grass, a radio laid out on a tarp before her. The men had gone out hunting, and Wick had begged to go, so they were all home alone that day.

Bryce plaid in the creek a short distance away, his splashing and carrying on music to Clarke's ears. She was surprised Bellamy even left; he'd not been out of sight in nearly a week.

"You miss him", Raven said suddenly.

"Am I that obvious", Clarke asked as she flopped back in the green grass, her gaze fixed on the white fluffy clouds above.

"Yep, you're that obvious", Octavia said with a snort, "But aren't we all? Raven hasn't stopped fiddling with that radio, I keep staring at the tree line, and you're moping. I think we're all pretty obvious."

"It's normal though, right", Raven asked out of the blue, "I mean I've never felt…"

"This way before", Clarke finished for her.

"Yeah", Raven said with a smile.

"Don't look at me! I'm in unchartered territory just like the rest of you", Octavia said throwing her hands in the air.

"Sure, it's normal", the blonde said finally, "We're in love, so we are definitely allowed to miss them."

"Right", Harper said with a grin, "But Clarke I think you're passed missing, I think you moved to pining about two hours ago."

Clarke's cheeks reddened and she scrunched her eyes closed. She was miserable! It felt like Bellamy had left days ago, and like one more second of separation was going to kill her.

"Bewamy", she heard Bryce yell.

She shot up like she'd been shot out of a cannon, her gaze sweeping the tree line until she spotted a head of dark curls.

"They're back", she breathed.

Clarke rushed forward, crashing into her husband like he'd been gone for years.

"I missed you", she whispered.

Bellamy's chuckle rumbled in her ear as his arms wrapped around her, "I missed you too, Princess."

Clarke looked over his shoulder at the deer and boar that were tied to the long pole, blood still dripping from the carcasses.

"Looks like you were successful."

"Yep, and no major injuries", Bellamy answered.

"Music to my ears", Clarke said smiling.

They walked back hand in hand to meet the others, smiles wreathing their faces. Bryce ran into Bellamy's open arms, chattering about the creek and the frog he'd caught.

As Clarke watched on, she could honestly say she'd never been this happy. Her friends were here, her family was safe, and she loved the most amazing man on earth. If asked at that moment, she would have declared that life couldn't get any better than this.

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Mel and lived near Tarren for nearly a week. She'd learned much about the quiet man, his likes, his dislikes, and the things that haunted him at night when the sky was dark and the earth was quiet.

She found that he took very good care of her, seeing that she was fed and clothed in warm furs. He spoke very little, but if she ever asked him anything he was quick to answer whether in word or deed.

She'd never known another person like him, and that bothered her. She'd only been gone six days and already she could feel Bellamy's memory slipping from her mind, quickly being replaced by Tarren's hazel eyes and serious expression.

Mel was cleaning one of the fish the Grounder had brought back, putting more force behind her knife strokes than necessary thanks to her frustrating thoughts of Bellamy Blake.

She was agonizing over the sound of the Rebel's voice, trying to get it just right, when the knife slipped. The blade left a deep gash on her palm, blood pouring from the wound and running down her forearm.

There was no time to cry out, or faint for that matter, because Tarren was quickly beside her. He took her injured appendage in his hand, quickly inspecting the damage.

He quickly grabbed his canteen, pouring the water over her cut, a look of apology in his eyes. He stemmed the blood flow, and wrapped a clean bandage around her hand with a care no one had showed her in a very long time.

"You must be more careful", he said softly.

Tarren had returned to camp, and when he found the young woman sitting with blood pouring down her arm it had terrified him. It reminded him of the way his love had died all those months ago.

The Mountain Men had drained Adrea of her blood, leaving her to rot in the caverns beneath the complex. He'd never thought he would recover from her death, until he met the lost young woman sitting before him.

He found that he cared for her more each day, all the while knowing she would probably never share his feelings. As he wrapped the bandage around her hand, he couldn't help but notice the softness of her skin or the way she smelled sweetly of berries.

When she looked at him, her eyes reminded him of his Adrea- the same strange shade of bluish green. He could read all of the hurt and betrayal in her gaze, and he wished he could take it all away.

After he'd finished, her gaze once more held his captive. Something had changed, a strange light flickering in the twin pools of despair.

"Why would you do this for me? Why would you care for me", she asked in apparent confusion.

Tarren wanted to tell her it was because everyone deserved to be loved and accepted. Instead he settled on an incomprehensive grunt before turning away and stalking into the forest. He had to fight his feelings for this woman. Whatever was plaguing her was beyond his reach, and he saw no way of helping her. It was better to distance himself.

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Bellamy lay in bed that night, a candle burning on his bedside table. They'd recently discovered that the boar fat could be used to make soap and candles. The woman used good smelling herbs to add a pleasing scent to both.

He looked over the designs Wick had given him for the new med bay they were planning. He wanted it close to the cabin so Clarke wouldn't have far to go, but he also wanted it far enough away for privacy.

The schematics Wick had drawn were great, and the man seemed to have put a lot of thought into the drawings. He looked over at Clarke, grinning as her tongue was caught between her teeth in concentration.

Her hand moved back and forth across the page, her pencil strokes strong and sure. She'd refused to let him see what she was drawing, and he found that the more she refused the more curious he became.

"Are you going to let me see that yet", he grumbled as he lay Wick's plans aside.

"Not yet", Clarke said with a little grin.

Bellamy lay back with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest and staring up at the ceiling. He lay in silence for about five minutes before asking once again if he could see his wife's sketchbook.

This time she handed it to him. He watched as a look of apprehension entered her blue eyes, a hesitancy in her movements as she released the book. He looked down at the yellowed paper to find an image of himself staring back.

Bellamy stared at the drawing, taking in every intricate detail. She'd captured his likeness perfectly, but there was something else to the drawing. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something made him feel as if the portrait would begin to speak at any moment.

"Princess, this is…"

"I know, it's just doodles", Clarke said sheepishly.

"Baby, this is more than doodles! This is amazing", Bellamy said with a bright smile.

He watched as a slow smile curved his wife's lips, her confidence returning at his praise.

"I thought I'd captured you pretty well", she said softly.

"Oh, you've captured me alright, Princess, and now you're stuck with me", Bellamy grinned.

"I can live with that", Clarke said huskily, her lips descending on his own.

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