Summary: Non-canon, Drama/Romance, hopefully with some Action/Adventure thrown in. Bellarke, Linctavia and probably more once I get going. :D
Rated M – for adult themes.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing The 100, not for profit!
A/N: So this was meant to be the final chapter but I couldn't fit it all into 1000 or even 2000 words! I'm really bad at endings and this has taken me forever to write, so I hope you like it. Thank-you for all your support and please keep it coming. I'm a little nervous about these last two chapters. I hope I do the characters and the story justice, let me know how you feel 'bout it! :D
The Homestead
Chapter 20 – Bellamy & Clarke
Late in the evening, well after everyone had feasted until their stomachs were full and danced until their feet hurt, Bellamy stood back from the bonfire, nursing a drink and surveying the revellers from the obscurity of the shadows.
After Lincoln and Octavia had left, the music and goodwill cascaded out of the homestead hall down to the community fire circle where many of the residents and guests continued to celebrate. Some had slipped off into the night to sleep, others to elope.
Young children lay on the ground with blankets curled around them like cocoons. The older kids danced or played with fire sticks, their laughter and loud howls sometimes heard above the stirring string of music.
Bellamy felt warm - from the inside out, but not settled.
Despite being a terrible dancer, he had danced a number of times. Once with Raven, once with Abby and many with Leila, one of Lincoln's orphaned Trikru students.
Leila giggled as he twirled her around, even when the dance didn't call for it, or when he made funny faces as they passed each other or met in the middle to clap hands.
Ten years old and already one of their best trappers, Leila often accompanied him on his out of hours hunting trips. She had taught him a thing or two.
He had danced a number of times, but not with the one person he might have actually asked to dance, because Clarke was not there.
Marcus had seen her three days ago when he left the capital after a week of arduous assemblies for the final preparation of the constitution.
He confirmed that she would be coming for the union.
Octavia only huffed when she realised Clarke was not in attendance at the ceremony, but to Bellamy's dismay he caught her checking in on him once or twice, concern etched into her eyes. He didn't want her worrying on her big day, so he lied and said that Clarke had sent word that she would be late.
In his heart he hoped it were true.
For a while, Bellamy stepped away from the celebrations at the fire to help Harper and the kitchen crew tidy up, returning with them a little later and observing as their presence re-ignited the party.
As he watched his people, he felt a growing unease that he was being watched and sensed a presence by the edge of the forest. He slunk away from the fire, trying not to alarm his friends.
He saw the lightness of her hair before the features of her face were illuminated by the dim glow of the moon.
She was beautiful.
It had been a long six months of never seeing that face.
His body ached with anticipation.
When he got closer he realised there was an air of apology surrounding her.
"I'm sorry I missed the ceremony," were her first words to him.
He was tired of hearing her say she was sorry.
"You're here now," he said, and saying it aloud soothed him.
When she spoke again it sounded as if she were in pain. "Please give my blessing to Lincoln and Octavia."
"Give it to them yourself," he said quickly. "In the morning – when you see them."
Clarke looked away, beyond him.
Bellamy blinked and shook his head in disappointment recognising her body language. "You're not staying."
"There's just so much to do…the signing is in two days. I didn't expect it to be so busy," she sighed. "I have to get back." Clarke hung her head, unable to look him in the eye. "I just… I needed to see you… I needed to…"
They were interrupted by someone crashing through the short growth that marked the border between the clearing and the wood.
"Bellamy! What are you doing all the way over here, we're about to…" Marcus stopped when he saw the figure standing in the dark of the trees. "Clarke?" he questioned, his face spreading into a giant smile. He embraced her. "Clarke! You made it!" His smile spread even further, if that were possible. "Big week," he muttered.
Clarke nodded.
"Have you eaten?" Marcus gestured towards the fire. "Harper and the kitchen crew created the most incredible feast. There's an abundance of leftovers."
"She's leaving," Bellamy quipped, more bitter than he had intended.
"Nooo…" Marcus drawled dramatically. "You can't leave. If your mother finds out you were here and you didn't see her, she'll… she'll stop me from coming to the signing!" His face took on a look of grave seriousness. "Now that would be catastrophic! No Skaikru signature? Do you really want that kind of chaos on your hands after everything you've done to make this happen?" he implored with moonshine induced wide eyes.
Clarke couldn't help but grin.
She'd never seen Marcus tipsy before. It made her feel even sorrier that she'd missed such a momentous occasion.
She had missed so much already.
Clarke stole a glance at Bellamy who was looking down at the ground with a wry grin on his face. When he felt her gaze he lifted his eyes to her eyes, daring her to defy Marcus.
"Yeah Princess," he said the nickname affectionately and only so she could hear. "Do you really want that kind of chaos on your hands?" he taunted.
Clarke took in a deep breath and let it out again, allowing herself to be overruled by emotion. It didn't happen very often, she had to admit.
"Nash," she called quietly over her shoulder. "Stable the horses and come join us around the fire. We'll spend the night here on the ranch and return with the Skaikru assembly tomorrow morning."
Nash nodded and led the animals away, leaving Clarke in the company of the two men beside her. Marcus draped his arm across her shoulders casually and guided her to the glowing light of the fire and the faces of her friends.
For a moment, Bellamy hung back, as if expecting her to change her mind, turn around and leave again. Once he was satisfied she was staying he scooted after them with a smile that reached his eyes.
After being welcomed by the crowd and greeted with more hugs than she thought she had the heart for, Clarke spent the next fifteen minutes catching up with her mother. It wasn't long before Raven returned from the dark with Wick by her side, spotted her friend, gasped with glee and pulled Clarke up on her feet.
"You are soooo… dancing with me," she decreed in excitement and then proceeded to chastise her about not showing up for the ceremony and how pissed Octavia was and how she was going to cop a tongue lashing and the biggest stink eye in the morning. "Don't say I didn't warn you," Raven sung in her 'I told you so' tone of voice.
Bellamy was already jigging around the fire with Leila. She had dragged him into the circle again as soon as he came back from the shadows, a huge grin on her face at having caught him off guard.
"I want another dance," she cried.
"You want another one," he laughed in mock exasperation.
It was a progressive dance, where the outer circle of people spun from one partner to the next, skipped through some steps and then continued on to the next person and the next, around and around until the song finished.
"I see you have a fan," Clarke said when they met the first time around the circle. She nodded at Leila, who was happily partnered with Harper, for now.
Bellamy clasped her hand with his and shrugged. "Actually, I'm her fan. Kid has skills."
On the third time they met in the circle Bellamy and Clarke were just about to begin the quick choreography, when the song changed suddenly and the music became slower.
Clarke looked up to see Raven had left the dance and was talking to the instrumentalists, with her eye on the two of them.
She winked and Clarke shot her an exaggerated glower.
For a second the two former co-leaders stood looking at each other awkwardly as all the other couples stepped in close and cosy to their partners.
Finally, Bellamy nudged forward and she felt his chest press against hers, his thighs radiating heat.
"I was just getting those steps," he grizzled, "and they go and change the song."
Clarke snorted, and then breathed in sharply as one of his hands found hers and the other her waist. His arms guided her close and he swayed her into the steps.
Apparently he knew this dance.
"I didn't think you were coming," he admitted more seriously after a short silence of slow moving in sync with one another.
"I hope you didn't sulk through the entire ceremony," she teased.
He shifted his hand on her waist further down the small of her back, pressed his hips closer into hers and extended his head towards the side of her neck, smirking at her sharp intake of breath.
"Brave, Princess," his mouth was so near to her ear that she could hear the corners of his lips curl up and feel his breath on her flesh. "Remember, I'm leading this dance and I can make you do whatever the hell I want."
"Is that right?" she questioned flirtatiously, looking up at him through her long eyelashes.
"That's right," he said and curled the fingers of his outstretched hand into hers, slowly dragging them down the delicate skin between her digits.
Clarke shuddered and her knees would have buckled beneath her if it were not for Bellamy pressing his hand on her back and his body even harder into her, to hold her up.
She might have been grateful except that he was chuckling into her hair, bemused by her reaction.
They danced and danced until there was nobody left dancing but them. Eventually the music stopped and they dropped their arms but never quite let go of each other, reluctant to lose the moment.
Their story was a montage of lost moments.
"The signing is the day after tomorrow," Clarke said finally after a long silence, remembering their soft exchange of assurances at the summer solstice.
"Yeah," Bellamy shifted his weight from side to side. "Good timing."
She smiled.
"It's just two more days," she whispered, as if telling the world would take it away from them. What was two days with all that they had waited?
Bellamy swallowed.
"Two days," he repeated, not looking at her, because looking at her would mean betraying himself.
He so desperately wanted to lean forward and part her mouth with his, but he remembered what a disaster that was last time.
Instead he licked his lips.
"You're a saint, you know that right?" she snorted, calling him on his hesitation.
"What is that supposed to mean?" He lifted his eyes to her then, and wished he hadn't - she looked utterly audacious.
"If it were up to me, Bellamy Blake, I would have dragged you to your quarters that night at the summer solstice and had my way with you."
His mouth dropped.
"Is that right?" It came out a lot more choked than he'd hoped. He coughed and she laughed.
Her laugh sounded so good.
"Yeah…that's right."
"I'm no saint," he said wistfully, and somehow they were serious again. "You know that."
Clarke became acutely aware that their hands were still joined. He had been rubbing small circles in her wrists since the music stopped and it felt so reassuring, so natural, that she'd hardly even noticed.
"We've both done things Bellamy," she had meant to soothe the sudden change of mood, but her words were too much a token of a time gone by.
Bellamy stepped behind and broke their touch, bringing them back to where they were before.
Or so he thought.
Clarke had other ideas.