Hey all! I know that there was still a bit of a break between chapters again, but I have college responsibilities to procrastinate...
Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this installment! We're getting closer to meeting the grounders...hahaha
Please comment/review! It feeds my tired soul!
"Oh, I don't know Bellamy! Some goddamn peace and quiet maybe?" Clarke yelled as she stormed out of the tent she was somehow still sharing with the pirate captain.
"Well, wouldn't that be nice!" bellowed the captain's voice from within the tent. The pirates that had gathered around the fire to ward against the morning chill sighed and shook their heads. The sounds of their two leaders arguing had become common background noise as of late, much to the pirate crew's dismay. Despite their constant bickering, Clarke would always return to Bellamy's tent, and some swore they saw the two embrace and apologize.
A few turned their head to watch Clarke storm out into the woods with her pack, likely going to hunt down some herbs and berries. A few minutes later, Bellamy emerged from his tent, his face tight with anger. He would yell at the nearest pirate to go out and follow Clarke and make sure she was okay, and then go back into his tent after gazing out into the forest where the healer had disappeared.
It had been a week since Clarke had returned with Jasper, and it was a few days after their return when the arguing began.
Clarke had been resting since she awoke after her daring rescue mission, and for once was happy to take a few steps back and let Bellamy take care of her. He would bring her scraps of food, and she would care for some of the minor wounds the crew suffered as they built up the camps defenses or hunted for meat-which Bellamy tried to pass onto Monty until Clarke screamed about she needed something to do or she would go insane.
They hadn't seen any activity from the mysterious natives yet, and the calm was making both Bellamy and Clarke anxious. They had almost finished their perimeter fence and there was round-the-clock surveillance of the forest surrounding the meadow the pirates had claimed as their home since being shipwrecked. She had suggested guard towers one morning and the next thing she knew Miller was working with some of the burlier men to start building watchtowers. Somehow since she had been forced to join these pirates, only a little over a month ago, she had become almost a co-captain. Whenever Octavia brought up how Bellamy only had ears for her ideas she had blushed and denied her obvious leadership position. Part of her knew that Bellamy listened to her because of her royal heritage, not because he trusted her enough to consider her a true leader.
The first night she spent in his tent was full of awkwardness. Clarke had brought some pelts and palm leaves to make her own bed, but the tent was so small that they ended up having to form one bed. The princess was the first to lie down, and after walking around all day and helping to carry supplies across the camp she was exhausted. Bellamy was more hesitant to join her, but after she insisted that she wouldn't bite he relented with a chuckle. They fell asleep relatively easily, but Clarke awoke to have Bellamy's arm protectively thrown over her stomach. She teased him for his cuddling attempts, commenting on how such a burly pirate captain was a giant teddy bear at heart, and Bellamy just grumbled and sauntered away.
By the third night, Clarke had become more comfortable with Bellamy's presence beside her, and she woke the next morning to rumbling laughs from her partner. During the night, she had pressed up against the captain and wrapped her arms around his torso. It was her turn to be embarrassed that day. That morning they had their first big argument. Clarke wanted to go out and explore outside the fence for more medicinal herbs, but Bellamy prohibited it, declaring that she was still too weak to go outside the gates and needed more rest. As the days passed on, their arguments got more and more intense, and instead of arguing over important leadership business- like what to do about the grounders or food rationing- they argued over sleeping arrangements and how Clarke's sigh was too melodramatic, or Bellamy's silence too obnoxious.
The crew was sick and tired of the petty fights, and Octavia had decided to take matters into her own hands. She knew her brother, and she knew that he was falling for the blonde princess, no matter how many times he tried to deny it. After Clarke stalked off into the jungle, she approached her concerned older brother and bumped his arm with her shoulder as a greeting.
"Hey, O," He mumbled. She snaked her arm around his and pulled him along to walk in the opposite direction of the woman that had captured his affection so thoroughly. "What did you two argue about this time?"
"Nothing really. It was my fault," He answered with a dejected sigh. Octavia raised a brow and tried to conceal her smile. The brother she knew would never admit fault in anything.
"Ah, well if it was truly nothing of importance, do you think that I can steal her away from you for one night?" She looked up at her brother through her dark lashes, blinking innocently up at his concerned face. She had perfected the doe eyes years ago, and could make Bellamy do almost anything with one look.
"That depends, what do you have in mind?" He asked, suspicion lacing his tone.
"Oh, well nothing major. Just drinking with some of the guys." She drawled.
It was his turn to raise a brow, and Octavia smirked, "I know that Phillip has a…special interest in Clarke and I thought, being the amazing friend that I am, that I should properly introduce them."
"Phillip? That womanizer?" Bellamy exclaimed, pulling away from his sister's grasp. Octavia feigned innocence, once again drawing on the power of the doe eyes to persuade her older sibling.
"Well shouldn't Clarke get to know the crew better?" She asked. Bellamy made a sound of distaste, but agreed after a moment's hesitation. Octavia grinned widely at her brother's jealous reaction, and skipped away while calling out, "Don't worry! I'll be there to take care of her for you."
She could have sworn that she heard him mutter out an obscene combination of curses, even for a pirate, as she skipped away.
After she stormed out of the campsite, Clarke took a few minutes to sit on a large boulder in the sun and calm her mind. It had been a silly fight. She knew that she wasn't even mad at Bellamy, but rather the situation they were in. With no sign from the natives, and no ship to sail back to freedom with, the camp was taut with tension. Clarke had just snapped at Bellamy after he made some silly sarcastic comment on something she didn't even remember. If that didn't show how petty she had acted, she didn't know what would.
Sounds of someone crashing through the forest behind her had Clarke reaching for the knife she kept in her boot, but she relaxed when she saw the familiar face of her usual sentry during her outings beyond the safety of the camp.
"Hey, Craig," She greeted from her spot on the boulder. Craig smiled back up at her, his curly red hair framing his tan freckled cheeks. Craig was a good six inches taller than her, but from what she could tell from their short interactions he was a silent sweetheart. She had no idea how such a quiet and kind man became a pirate, but she guessed it had something to do with the corruption of the monarchy in Arcadia. Most of her kingdom's citizens had turned to lives of crime because of the changes made after her father's death, and subsequently her imprisonment.
Craig just looked at Clarke with silent expectation, as if saying, "what in the world are you doing up there?"
"I happen to like it up here, but you're right. I should probably go back," She said as she hopped off her perch and landed a few feet away from Craig. His hand was resting on the pummel of his sword, and Clarke realized that she had forgotten her own sword in her tent that morning. A foolish mistake that could lead to disaster. This forest was crawling with natives even if they hadn't found a hide nor hair of their civilization yet. The only proof she had seen of the grounders was inside her friend Jasper. The primitive healing techniques of these people had saved her friend, but they were the reason he had been so brutally wounded in the first place. Clarke had mixed feelings about the natives, but without any sort or attempts at communication she couldn't decide whether they were allies or enemies.
"Come on, let's head on back. We have plenty of supplies for now," Clarke said, starting their trek back to the campsite. Craig shook his head and gave out a tired sigh.
"Don't worry, I'll sort things out with the captain when we get back," She grumbled in response to his silent question. Clarke was climbing over the tangled roots of an impressively large tree when she heard it. A snap and a crunch, then a haggard gasp and a thud.
She whirled around, crouching down to reach for her knife, and cried out when she saw what had happened. Craig was slumped on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back. She reached out for her friend when another arrow pierced the tree bark next to her face, shooting shards of wood into cheek. Clarke lowered herself even more into the protection of the roots around her, pressing her side against the trunk of the tree. She stole a glance at Craig, and knew he was dead. He hadn't moved since she saw him last, and there was too much blood staining the grass around them for him to still be alive.
"May we meet again," She muttered, the one comfort she could give his poor soul, before she clutched her knife close to her chest and darted out of her hiding place and ran towards the camp. She didn't turn back when she heard another arrow strike the branch of a tree above her head, or when one grazed against her calf. She cursed when she stumbled, knowing that her only chance of survival was to make it back to the fence as soon as she could.
She leapt through the trees, keeping her movements as random as she could so that the shooter had a harder time of aiming on her. She heard footsteps crashing through the forest behind her, and Clarke almost screamed in frustration. She was so close to the gate. A part of her wanted to flee in another direction and lead her attackers away from her home and her people, but she knew that the grounders were aware of their camp since they killed so close to their borders. Clarke's lungs burned and her side ached when she finally saw the familiar wall in the distance.
"Grounders!" She screamed. She waved her arms frantically and tried to get someone's attention as she ran through the forest. "We're under attack!"
She was a few yards away from the open gate when she saw Miller's confused face peek out from inside. "Close the gate! We're under attack!"
Realization finally dawned on his face and he drew his sword with one quick motion, and called out for reinforcements. An arrow pierced the ground behind her ankle, and Clarke pushed herself faster. The gate was beginning to swing closed in front of her. Another arrow grazed against her arm, and Clarke winced. She ran past the gate, sliding to a stop inside the safety of the camp. She turned and quickly lunged to help the pirates push the heavy gate completely closed. Her knuckles were white against the dark handle of her knife. Panting, Clarke leaned against the cool wood and cursed.
"What happened?" Miller asked, pulling her away from the wall and deeper into the meadow. Clarke paused to catch her breath, the few crew members that were out and about running toward her or to the gate to peer out some of the openings.
"They killed Craig," She spat. Anger boiled in her veins, and she stormed back to the gate to peer outside the main window between the logs. Only empty forest gazed back at her. From what she could tell, the grounders had left or were hiding deeper in the trees beyond.
"Clarke!" A voice boomed. She turned, and was immediately pulled into the captain's warm embrace. The moment his arms wrapped around her, Clarke melted. The adrenaline slid out of her, and she relaxed into his arms. Her nose nuzzled the crook of his neck and she slid her arms around his waist.
"Bellamy," She breathed out his name in a sigh, her muscles relaxing. She couldn't help but wince when the pain from her injuries finally registered in her mind. Bellamy pulled away at the sound and held the princess at arms-length and inspected her for injury.
"I'm fine, Bellamy," Clarke whispered despite the blood rolling down her ankle. The cut on her arm was superficial but the graze on her leg was more serious.
"What. Happened." A demand, not a question. Clarke slid her knife back into her boot and walked with Bellamy to the bonfire in the middle of the camp, retelling what occured as they walked.
Bellamy's arm was draped around her waist to help Clarke limp over to the campfire, despite her protests that she could walk fine on her own.
"Miller, I want 'round the clock surveillance of the forest, and make sure everyone is back inside these walls. Nobody goes in or out unless I say so," Bellamy ordered, his crewmates scrambling to obey. He sat Clarke down onto a stump and knelt in front of her to inspect her injured calf.
"I'm fine, really. It's just a scrape," She grumbled, wincing when the pirate captain poked at the cut. "I don't care,"
"Clarke!" Octavia called out, running up to pull the wounded princess in a fierce hug just like her brother had done mere moments ago. The healer smiled and returned the girl's embrace. Octavia released her when Bellamy growled about her wound and pulled the princess back onto the stump. Octavia stared at the various pirates running about the once calm meadow, each strapping weapons onto their bodies.
"Is it true, are the grounder's back?" She asked, eyes wide with fear. Clarke nodded, a grim expression on her face. She cursed when Bellamy started to wrap her calf while Clarke was trying to tell Octavia what had happened, making the pirate captain chuckle in amusement.
"Yes, it appears they are," Clarke replied, glaring down at the man in front of her, "but we will survive. We always do."
Bellamy smiled up at her, then stood in a swift motion and dusted his hands off on his pants. Clarke inspected his handiwork, and made a grunt of approval.
"Octavia, could you do me a favor and run and get my sword?" She asked as she stood on unsteady feet. Bellamy moved to grab her, but she pushed away his arms.
"If I could run through the forest with this thing then I can stand," She muttered, stalking off towards the gate where Miller and most of the crew were standing with their weapons drawn.
"Anything?" She asked as she approached the gate with Bellamy hot on her heels. Miller glanced behind her at his captain, nodded, then looked down at Clarke and said, "Nothing yet."
She knew she shouldn't be offended by how he looked to Bellamy for approval before speaking to her, but she couldn't help but grimace at the dark envy that coiled in her chest. Bellamy was their captain, and she was just the healer- who happened to be the missing princess of a corrupt royal family that everyone hated.
"Do you think they're still out there, watching us?" Clarke asked Bellamy. He stepped up beside her and answered, "We won't know until we send out scouts to bring back Craig's body."
The healer sucked in a breath at the mention of her late companion's name, her mind filling with the memories of his final moments. She vowed to take revenge against the grounders for attacking them unprovoked. The pirates hadn't done anything to hurt the natives, while they had attacked without precedent twice now. In her mind, killing one of their own with no reason was an act of war. She said as much to the captain, who agreed wholeheartedly.
"Clarke, here's your sword," Octavia said as she skidded to a stop in front of her and the other pirates. She smiled in thanks and quickly tied her sword belt around her waist, then drew the magnificent blade. Despite the tense situation, a few of the crew whistled in awe at the glorious weapon. The princess stormed up to the gate, and peered out of the peephole. She cursed when she too saw despairingly empty forest beyond the fence. She moved to open the gate when Bellamy stopped her by grabbing her sword arm.
"No way in hell am I letting you back out there," He said. Clarke almost snarled at his words, but relented to his demand. She knew that storming out there without a plan was suicide, especially since the grounders knew the terrain better than the pirates. With a frustrated groan, she sheathed her sword and looked up into the dark eyes of the pirate captain standing before her.
"What's our plan?" She asked. Bellamy rubbed his temple and shrugged, "I have no idea."
"We should wait to see if anything changes, and then send out a scouting party to get Craig's body so we can bury him. It isn't right to leave him out there to be preyed on like some dead animal," Clarke said quietly. Bellamy nodded, and rubbed her shoulder.
"I agree. In the meantime, we should check our defenses and set up a twenty-four-hour watch. We can't be surprised again," He said, nodding at Miller to tell him to start assigning tasks for the crew. He trusted his second to take care of everything.
Clarke stared at the gate as if she could see past the wood and out into the quiet forest beyond. She clenched her jaw and fiddled with her sword-belt in frustration. She knew it wasn't her fault Craig was dead- the blame for that fell on the grounder that had shot him- but she couldn't help but feel guilty. If she hadn't gotten annoyed at Bellamy for something so insignificant, she wouldn't have stormed out of the camp and Craig would still be alive. Hot molten anger thrummed in her blood. Why on earth were these natives killing them? What had the pirates done to deserve it? It wasn't their fault they were shipwrecked and left to scavenge on what appeared to be the native's territory. If anything, the grounders should have offered aid to the marooned crew, not attacked and killed.
As if he could sense her inner turmoil, Bellamy curled an arm around Clarke's waist and drew her close to his warm body.
"We will survive, remember that," He whispered in comfort. She smiled up at her friend, a warmth blossoming in her chest. Those words had become their mantra the past few weeks. She too curled her arm around his middle, and leaned her head against his shoulder. The two leaders stared out at the gate in trepidation, but a new sense of determination filled the air as they vowed to avenge their fallen comrade.