Summary: Non-canon, Drama/Romance, hopefully with some Action/Adventure thrown in. Bellarke, Linctavia and probably more once I get going. :D
Rated MA – for adult themes and sexual content.
Disclaimer: Just borrowing The 100, not for profit!
A/N: The final chapter! I hope it is all you anticipated. I'm really anxious about putting this out there – one because I've never finished a fic this long before, two because I suck at endings and three because of the sex scene. I hope it's not terrible. I actually tried to adjust the rating because after checking fanfictions rules and regs I thought I needed to make it MA for this chapter, however I couldn't select MA so I've just changed it in my notes. It's pretty tame compared to some of the stuff I've read but I'm just being cautious. Thank-you for all your support along the way I have loved reading your comments and I'm so pleased so many of you have enjoyed the ride.
The Homestead.
CHAPTER 21 – Bellamy & Clarke
She didn't want this night to end.
For a few hours she'd been able to forget about her responsibilities and everything that had happened. She'd been able to enjoy the moment and accept everything that she was - before anticipating what came next, and being who everyone needed her to be.
But a few hours were not enough. Even with only two days to go. She needed more. Ever since the summer solstice when she had tasted the future on Bellamy's lips, nothing was ever enough.
"There's something I need to tell you," she said steadfastly and businesslike, gesturing with her head as she walked away from the fire.
He followed.
The next thing he knew they were in the work shed.
"Clarke…" he started but she cut him off.
"I'm not going to be Commander anymore," she blurted out, her body lifting with exhilaration at the revelation.
"What? You can't just throw everything away Clarke... what about the homestead?"
"It's okay Bellamy. We have the constitution. And we have Luna."
"Luna? From the boat people?" He scrunched his eyebrows together, uncertain what Lincoln's friend had to do with anything.
"She's a nightblood. The last nightblood." It felt so good to finally tell somebody her plans - to tell him her plans.
"She's a nightblood?" he repeated slowly, the cogs clicking into place.
"We tried to find her, after Ontari and Pike, when you were…" her eyes raked to the scar on his neck where Pike had continuously shock batoned him on the dropship. The image of him lying in a coma as she left for Polis still haunted her.
"It's okay Clarke," he said softly, seeing the pained expression on her face. He vaguely remembered Octavia telling him about Lincoln's mission. But he was never privy to the details.
"Luna has agreed to become Heda and things will be very different under her command Bellamy. Luna is a pacifist. She doesn't believe in 'blood must have blood.' She fled the conclave to escape a life of war and senseless killing."
"W-what about you?" His voice hung at the end of his question – suspended on the edge of hope and longing. "What will you do?"
"I never wanted to be Commander, Bellamy." Clarke stepped towards him her voice reassuringly gentle and yet full of firm resolve. "I did that for our people. Now I don't have to." She took his hand again, and held it like they had at the fire. "I want to be with you. I want to be here with you, at the homestead."
His hand curled around hers and he pulled her into him, pressing his chest against hers, close, like when they were dancing.
"I want to be with you too," he rasped hoarsely, his breath on her mouth, his lips open and inches away.
"Then let's be…together," she whispered and kissed his lips.
"Clarke," he cried opening her mouth with his.
She moaned into him, not knowing where her hands were or what they were doing. It was feverish and fast, not like the last time, some six months ago. That was just a taste, this was anything but chaste. Her hands were all over him touching his face, his hair, his neck. Oh, how she had hungered to touch him. Their bodies were pressed together hard, his chest, his abs, the tops of his legs pressed into her, drawn against her like there was some kind of magnetic force fastening them together. Yet she still longed to be closer, to drink him in, absorb him, soak him up.
She needed him. She needed him inside her.
He pushed her down gently and she fell back onto a stack of carefully baled grass, never letting go of him, holding him close to her, their lips remaining locked. He was on top of her, his legs nudging her legs apart then he was between her legs, grinding into her. She lifted her hips and ground into him, groaning and crying his name into his mouth as he groaned and cried back. She didn't know how they got their clothes off but soon she lay under him half naked. He kissed her harder and his hands… god his hands, his hands slid under her bra and he was fingering her nipples and breathing her name.
"Oh…Clarke," he cried, tugging off her underwear first and then his and she unhooked her hands and let go of his neck only to touch him, to feel his need for her hard in her hands, to hold him, all of him.
He swore.
And then he stopped.
He looked down at her starry eyed and eager, startled by the speed and ferocity of their yearning.
"Are you okay Clarke?" he choked out. "Is this okay?"
As if he needed to ask.
"Yes, Bellamy, yes," she moaned for more, thrusting her hips up and he groaned as she rubbed against him. She didn't know where the blanket came from but he was laying it down beneath her and then his fingers were on her folds, feeling that she was wet and spreading her wetness over her and over him, and then he was in, pushing gently at first as she relaxed around him and then thrusting harder, filling her with him when she begged for more. "Please Bellamy, please."
Clarke tried to hold onto something but there was nothing but him, he thrust so fast, pressing against her, rubbing against her as he drove into her, her fingers digging into his skin. He was so hard and she was so wet and god she had wanted this for so long all she could do was call his name and try to remember to breathe beneath him.
He thrust so fast, she keened up into him, and when she was close he slowed down. His fingers found her clit and rubbed rhythmically, as he slid in and out of her laboriously, throwing her over the edge quickly. She came in waves and he kept going, picking up his pace again until he came too, crashing into her, all messy curls, freckles and sweat sheened skin.
"Clarke," he said, still panting. Smiling. Crying. "I love you, Clarke."
Clarke closed her eyes and smiled back, and then she cried too, a steady stream of tears rolling down her cheek. She cried as she held onto his back, hooking her legs around him and keeping him close. She cried as she curled her fingers in his hair and Bellamy touched her cheek and said something soothing but she didn't hear him because all she could hear was an overwhelming sound inside her. She didn't know what it was but it was loud.
Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy it beat.
"Hmm?" she asked softly.
"I've loved you for so long," his muffled voice filtered through to her as he kissed her tears away. "Long before you said it, when you thought I was gone."
She opened her eyes, not wanting to be reminded of his lifeless form lying in the clinic in Arkadia. She had whispered I love you then, because she thought she'd never see him again, and they couldn't end with those words unsaid.
She had no idea he had felt the same.
"How long?" she murmured, gently dragging her fingers up and down his arm.
He groaned and rolled off her, grabbing the edge of the blanket and wrapping it around them both, so that she slipped onto her side, into him. They lay face to face with their bodies entwined, hearts thudding in time.
"I don't know exactly," he kissed her forehead and her eyes fluttered closed again. "But I think it hit me when you left, after Mt Weather." He kissed her eyelids and she sighed.
So much had happened since then.
She smoothed her hands up his back to the mangled burn scar on his shoulder and he shuddered beneath her soft fingers before kissing across her cheek bone to nibble at her ear.
"You've saved my life so many times," she moaned as he sucked on the softness of her lobe. "I feel responsible for all these scars," she kissed the one on his neck, and trailed her hand up his thigh to the smooth skin where Roan had stabbed him.
"You saved mine tonight," he grinned, gasping as her fingers sketched patterns up his pelvis. "If you hadn't kissed me I think I would have self-combusted."
She laughed, and oh how he loved that sound.
They made love again and then slept - Bellamy's soft snores singing her to sleep in the safety of his arms.
In the morning she found him sitting barefoot in his shirt and pants, his hands braced on his thighs as he looked out over the ranch at the thin morning mist rolling in.
She pulled the blanket he must have found by the fire side around her shoulders, and waddled over, draping her hands down his chest and resting them on his heart. She leant her chin on his shoulder and placed a soft kiss to his jaw, just as he reached up and rubbed her arms tenderly.
"Want to go for a walk?" he asked, somewhat sheepishly. "It's kinda my thing, in the morning."
She beamed at him.
They strolled hand in hand around the paddock border, just as he had imagined they would, every day for the last six months.
The smile never left Bellamy's eyes.
Around them the sun woke, waking up the world at the same time. Birds emerged from the green trees and bushes, busying themselves with the morning's events.
Clarke lifted her face to the icy fresh breeze nipping across the field, welcoming the sting of it on her cheeks.
It reminded her of the first time she had stepped off the dropship onto Earth.
How different they were from then.
She gazed at Bellamy and was filled with an immense sense of accomplishment and hope. Over the past six months they had achieved so much.
They were not alone now.
There would always be reminders of their suffering all around them. They themselves were emblazoned with pain, but there was also wonder in their world and her heart grew with gratitude for the beauty of all things heavenly and earthly but most of all, for the ability to appreciate them.
The Homestead had created that for them. It was here that Bellamy had found himself and here that they had found each other. It was here that they would create their future.
They were never safe - nothing was ever certain, and yet with the two of them together, in this place, with their people, she knew they could do more than just survive.
She knew they could finally begin to thrive.