Word Count: 3, 392
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Crown (wear my love like a)
Chapter 1

In the end, Clarke never made it to Octavia right away.

Raven was in a bad place and Clarke was reluctant to leave her alone, hunched over Finn's pale form, looking as if she was the one wasting away. But despite Clarke's attempts to get her out of the medical bay, Raven stayed where she was, jar clenched tightly in her hand.

Clarke had forgotten how much a loved one's demise could cripple you. Her father getting floated had destroyed her whole world, and while Finn was still breathing, Clarke had to wonder how long until his will to live would no longer be enough to keep him alive.

She tried to shake off the morbid thoughts, but sitting in the medical bay with Raven only served to make her nauseous, and Clarke had to get out.

Indra gave her a curious look when, instead of going to the main gate, Clarke took one of the inner junctions and headed deeper into the Ark station.

Wick was more than happy to welcome them. The distraction, apparently, had been craved from both sides, because he threw aside his protective gear and pulled out some designs. Clarke let his enthusiasm and gesticulation distract her as he went on and on about the new antenna he was going to put up soon. Most of the technical talk went over her head but from what she gathered, the news was good – without Mount Weather jamming their signal, the new antenna would allow them to use radios and walkie-talkies to further distances than before. And as Wick, helpfully, pointed out, if he could convince Kane to give him access to the Mountain Men's satellite disk, he could route the signal from there and magnify it at least four times, making it cover even more ground.

Clarke was all for it – fast communication was always a plus.

Once she was equipped with a new radio (she had lost her walkie-talkie in the last battle), Clarke and Indra made their way out. She paused on the threshold and Wick gave her a wave.

"Do me a favour."

Wick looked confused by her serious tone and his trademark half-smile disappeared.

"Make Raven help you with the antenna."

"But it's rea- oh." He straightened up and looked back to his designs. "I'm sure she'll have few colourful words to say about the inefficiency of my plan."

Clarke smiled gratefully, and left him to tinker with his gadgets.

"What now, Sky girl?"

Indra looked no less tired than Clarke felt – suddenly it was as if everything from the past few days was catching up with her and weighing down on her bones, making her feel drained and sleepy.

"Are you hungry?"

"For your bleak lumpy porridge? I would prefer to starve."

Indra had a point – very few of the Ark people had yet learned how to hunt successfully, and usually what they managed to catch was never enough for all of them. With the Grounders gone, and the Greenhouse still in repairs, the Ark station was embarrassingly short on food supplies and resorted to the powdered porridge they used to serve up in space.

Clarke was beyond sick of it.

"Sleep it is then." Clarke's room was occupied, but there were more than enough empty rooms sitting around.

"And the Commander?"

Clarke was too tired to pick her words carefully. "She'll wait; she did give me a whole day to decide after all."

The Grounder by her side huffed, clearly unhappy with her response, but her sword stayed put and she didn't do anything else to voice her displeasure. Clarke counted it as a win.

The first room Clarke tried was barren save for two air beds and a chair and that was all they needed, really. Indra looked amused when Clarke jammed the door shut with the chair, but Clarke didn't miss the placement of Indra's sword and how easy it was to reach with a moment's notice. Peace treaty or not, Clarke had the feeling that Indra would always expect the worse when it came to dealing with the Ark people. She wanted to change that, but right now she lacked the energy to do anything about it. Maybe time would help them all come to trust each other. But for now –

"This courtship, Octavia said it has rules?" She left the question hanging and watched as Indra laid on the bed without taking off her armour.

The Grounder considered her for a moment before dismissing her and her question as unimportant and closed her eyes. Clarke scowled – so much for being friendly.

Just as Clarke was dropping off to sleep, she heard Indra shifting around. "Don't accept any gifts unless they are from Bellamy. It's considered bad luck."

Clarke allowed herself a small smile – they were making progress. Indra's soft sigh as she relaxed on the air bed was another point to Clarke.

Waking up in the middle of the day, after she had slept in her clothes and had gone to bed hungry, was an awful feeling, but it was still better than being sleep deprived. Indra didn't seem to approve of her logic though.

Leaving the Ark station unnoticed was harder than Clarke had anticipated it to be at this time of the day, and that's how Kane managed to literally stumble into them.

"Clarke? When did you get back?"

Clarke hid her disappointed sigh and smiled in return – she had been hoping to put off this confrontation for at least another day or two.

"Just this morning. The Commander agreed on a peace treaty."

"She did?" Kane's surprised tone made few people stop and stare, until he waved them off. "Maybe we should take this elsewhere."

Out of options, Clarke and Indra followed him to the Council's room where they sat down around the table (or in Indra's case – hovered over Clarke's shoulder).

"What did she say? What did she want?"

Kane was a practical man and as such Clarke didn't need to beat around the bush with him. "Her demand was simple – I'll be marrying a Grounder and the peace treaty will be signed."

Kane opened his mouth to say something, but then reconsidered and closed it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the round table and looked Clarke straight in the eyes, searching for something.

"Do you think it's a wise choice to accept?"

Clarke's grin was sardonic. "Do you think it's a wise choice to decline?"

Kane rolled his shoulders and his Chancellor pin glinted under the pale lights. "No, I suppose not. Still, you don't have to accept. We'll figure something out."

Indra bristled at that but Clarke shook her head. "It's fine, I've already decided."

"Your mother won't be happy with this." He sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He looked so much older than he appeared mere minutes before. "I'll talk to her."

This time, her smile was genuine. "Thank you."

As if summoned by their thoughts, Abby burst into the room, angry and purposeful, her eyes glinting dangerously; Wells was not far behind.

"Marcus, Clarke has gone and-" She stopped when she saw that Kane was far from alone.

Clarke pushed her chair back and stood up, bracing herself for the confrontation. Wells shrugged his shoulders helplessly when she looked at him, and leaned on the wall next to the door.

"This is outrageous! You're not marrying a Grounder!" Abby advanced towards Clarke with every word and Clarke fought to keep calm under her apparent disapproval. "Tell the Commander to figure something else out because I refuse to let you do this."

"Abby, let's not-"

"You can't forbid me from doing anything." Clarke's voice cut across Kane's words, and he lifted his hands in surrender.

"You're a child, my child and I-"

Clarke stepped forward, her gaze challenging and spitting fire. "I was not your child when you sent me down here, I was not your child when you expected me to survive and fight against the Grounders, and I was not your child when I did unfathomable things while I fought the Mountain Men and rescued my friends. You need to stop this; stop treating me as a kid when it's beneficial to your words and as an adult when you need me to get something done."

The slap echoed into the room and Indra drew her sword from her sheath not a second later, the sharp tip pointing at Abby, daring her to try that again. Wells had come closer, but a look from Clarke halted his steps.

The sting on her cheek hurt less than the disappointment caused by her mother did. Clarke bit her tongue until blood filled her mouth and the bile of words stuck in her throat went away – she had hoped that maybe for once her mother would let her explain before dismissing her words and wishes. This was just another rift in their relationship. She shouldn't have expected anything else, yet she had, and the result was bitter for both sides.

Clarke pushed Indra's sword down and – ignoring her mother and her shocked face – addressed Kane as if nothing had happened. "Octavia will probably want to celebrate our union. I'll let you know the details as soon as she lets me know."

At this, Abby seemed to snap out of her thoughts and reached for Clarke, but Clarke jerked her hand away and nodded at Kane when he gave her a weary, "Okay."

"Clarke-" Clarke let Indra get between her back and her mother as she turned around and went for the door. "Clarke, please, this is not-"

"I get it, mom, I really do. I'll always be your little Clarke." Wells finally reached her and squeezed her fingers in silent support. He was the reason Clarke found the strength to look back into the teary eyes of her mother and continue talking. "But I haven't been little for a while now and that's the reason why we don't get along anymore."

Clarke let Wells lead her out from the room. It wasn't the first time she was thankful for having such a great friend who understood her with only a glance. Indra's looming presence was also welcomed as the passerby's seemed to flinch back from her sword and Grounder outfit.

Wells escorted them to the gates, not once slowing down despite his injury.

"I'm sorry, I tried but she wouldn't listen."

She squeezed his fingers in gratitude – he hadn't let go, and neither had she. "I know."

"You know she only tries to look out for you."

"Don't."

He sighed, but dropped the topic nonetheless.

At the gates, two horses were waiting for them, and Clarke silently thanked the Grounders that had brought them here – horses always managed to cheer her up.

"I'll send Murphy to get you."

Clarke wanted to protest – Murphy in Grounder's territory just begged for trouble – but Wells expression brooked no arguments and she let her shoulders drop in defeat.

"Fine, tell him to take his time." Wells smiled crookedly at that; they both knew that Murphy would be hurrying to get to Clarke the moment he was made aware that she was, once again, without a trusted escort (in his eyes, Grounder guards didn't count).

"Will do; now get out of here."

One of the horses neighed in agreement and Clarke petted his neck, before mounting the horse with one well-practiced motion.

Wells rolled his eyes at her and muttered "Show off," under his nose.

Meanwhile, Indra's patience had grown thin and with two nudges of her boots, her horse shot forward, gaining speed with every second, leaving Clarke and the station behind in a cloud of dust.

Clarke's horse grew restless under her as well and – with one last look at Wells – Clarke grabbed the reins and urged her horse to follow Indra.

The trees around her merged together and the cold wind ruffled her hair; Clarke imagined that this was what flying felt like.

The temporary war camp was still up and the Commander's tent was glowing like a red beacon in the centre. The Grounders welcomed them warmly (Indra) and a bit hesitantly (Clarke).

Lincoln was there when Clarke got off her horse, and he was the one to lead her to the tent when Indra disappeared into the crowd of people that had gathered.

He looked better since the last time she had seen him – new clothes and some water did wonders for his appearance (not that Clarke had been any better after the battle).

The tent was occupied by what Clarke now recognized as the different clan leaders, few personal guards and the Commander herself. The conversations quieted down to a murmur as Clarke and Lincoln made their way to the throne.

Lincoln moved to Octavia's right side, and Clarke pretended not to feel the eyes boring holes into her back.

"Commander."

Octavia's lips curled into a small smile. "Clarke. Have you came to a decision?"

Clarke bit her lip and looked at her – Octavia still had her war paint and gear on, black hair done in thick braids, neck tattoo shining under the light of the torches, looking every inch of the leader she was despite the fact that she couldn't be older than Clarke; effortless in her grace and confident in her skills, sharp and dangerous when she needed to be – this was the person, whose brother would become Clarke's husband. And if this was Octavia in all her glory, what would Bellamy be like?

Hopefully somebody she could learn to live with.

"It would be an honour for me to enter a courtship with your brother."

Octavia uncrossed her legs and put away the knife she was playing with, her gaze intent and wholly focused on Clarke and Clarke only.

"Are you sure?"

Even the whispers of the other Grounders died down.

"I am."

Octavia's smirk was positively wicked as she stood up and looked at the Grounders. "Tomorrow we will celebrate the courtship between Clarke of the Sky people and my brother and second-in-command, Bellamy. Now go and let the rest of our people know that the Sky people will remain our allies. Every action taken against them will be an action taken against me."

The tent erupted with cheering and booming as the Grounders shouted their approval, and hit their armours with their swords to create a primal beat that Clarke could feel resonating through her blood.

Octavia 'allowed them to continue for a moment longer, before motioning for them to stop. The Grounders gradually left the tent, sans for Lincoln who didn't move from his place, and the scanting continued outside, where it became louder and wilder, and the ground vibrated with the beat of their feet.

Once they were alone, Octavia took the two steps down from her throne, and threw her hands around Clarke's neck, making her stumble back. The Commander clutched her tightly and Clarke looked at Lincoln for help, but he just smiled and shook his head. Panicking a little and unsure of what the appropriate protocol for a situation like this was (if there was one to begin with), Clarke hugged Octavia back and tried to relax.

"I'm so happy that you accepted!"

Clarke let Octavia's words wash over her, basking in the wonder and the happiness the younger girl was feeling.

"So am I."

Octavia's smile was infectious and Clarke smiled back, confusion momentarily forgotten.

"You won't regret it, I promise."

There was no way she could actually promise that, but Clarke was grateful nonetheless. It made her feel lighter knowing that Octavia somewhat already approved of her. (One less thing to worry about.)

"Is Bellamy here? I'd like to meet him."

The Commander finally let her go and shook her head. "He hasn't arrived yet. I guess you'll meet him tomorrow."

Just her luck – agreeing to marry somebody without even knowing the sound of his voice.

Octavia must have sensed her dissatisfaction because she frowned and looked back at Lincoln. "He can come meet you tomorrow before the celebrations if you want. The courtship won't be official until after, so, it won't be against the rules."

"We can't meet after its official?" Now Clarke was the one frowning; this was one stupid rule.

"Oh, you can, but you can't be by yourselves." Octavia laughed at Clarke's grimace and leaned back into Lincoln, when he hugged her from behind. "If Lincoln and I can do it, you two will survive just fine."

Clarke arched her eyebrow in surprise. "You two had a courtship?" Nobody had told her that.

"My brother insisted." The drawl in Octavia's voice let Clarke know exactly how annoying that had been.

Clarke wanted to ask more questions but one of the Grounders re-entered the tent. Lincoln drew back and Octavia lost her open expression; she was back to being the Commander.

"What is it?"

"There's a Sky person looking for Clarke."

"That must be Murphy. I should get going and let the Ark know about tomorrow's celebrations."

Octavia nodded. "Of course. We'll be awaiting you."

Clarke smiled at her one last time and exited the tent.

The Grounder was long gone, and Clarke was left wandering around looking for Murphy. She had just caught a glimpse of his jacket, when somebody grabbed her arm and spun her around.

It was another Grounder, taller than Clarke, with dark hair and dark eyes. The nearby fire let Clarke notice his rather extensive tattoo on the right side of his neck that disappeared under his clothes, and the sword strapped onto his back.

"Yes?" He didn't appear hostile, but the way he carried himself put Clarke on an edge.

"Here." His voice was gruff as he pushed something in Clarke's hand.

Startled by that, Clarke flinched back, and the bracelet stayed in his hand. Suddenly, Indra's warning came to mind and cold dread filled her stomach.

"I'm sorry, I can't accept this."

He gave her a dirty look and sneered, the flames of the fire painting his face in shadows and giving him an eerie glow.

"Should have figured that garbage like this wouldn't be up to your standards, Sky girl."

Before she could react, the bracelet was sent flying into the fire, and the mysterious Grounder was walking away. Clarke gave a shocked cry and dove for the bracelet – she didn't know why, but it felt important – and managed to save it, with only few of the bones it was made of getting scorched. By the time she looked up, the Grounder had gone.

Clarke gently brushed away the ashes from the bracelet; something in his words had unsettled her, but she couldn't figure out what exactly.

"What did that Grounder want?" Murphy brushed his shoulder against hers, one hand on his rifle while glaring in the direction the Grounder had disappeared into.

When she failed to answer, he looked her over and noticed the bracelet.

"Aren't you getting popular amongst the Grounders? Wait until Wells hears about this."

Don't accept any gifts unless they're from Bellamy. Bellamy. Something clicked.

"Murphy, did Bellamy have a tattoo on his neck?"

He smirked. "Why? Is it going to be a deal breaker for you?" But his expression fell flat when he saw the frantic worry in her eyes. "From what I remember he did; it went down all the way to his hipbone."

Clarke winced, and clenched the bracelet until the little bones bit harshly into her skin.

"What did you do?" He turned her around to face him and she let him; his suspicion was spot-on.

"I think I just offended my future husband."

"Well fuck."

Clarke agreed with him wholeheartedly.

And we got something resembling a plot, lmao. Comments/questions/feedback are always welcomed.

- M.