Work Text:
Clarke awoke to something dark on her nightstand, blocking her view. She blinked the bleariness out of her eyes, watching as the dark blob came into focus. It was a personal chalkboard with a note written on it in chicken-scratch handwriting.
Good morning, Princess.
She sat up and looked around, but everyone else was either still asleep or away at breakfast. A few pieces of chalk fell when she grabbed the blackboard, and she picked them up slowly, turning them in her hands. A smile crept across her face as she erased the message and started sketching with her new tools. Finn must have found this somehow and left it for her; she appreciated it.
Jasper walked in a few hours later with Maya and stared at Clarke incredulously. “Is that why you weren’t at breakfast today?” he asked, sitting down on the bed across from her.
Clarke pulled her eyes away from the landscape she was drawing with great effort, then processed what Jasper had said. “Dammit, did I miss it?” Her stomach immediately started to hurt when faced with the possibility of being hungry until lunch. It was pathetic how quickly the group had grown accustomed to regular meals, after facing the real threat of starvation not months ago.
Jasper sighed and pulled a muffin from his pocket, tossing it to her. “That was for later, but I guess you need it more than me.”
Maya frowned at him. “Jasper, you aren’t supposed to steal food.”
“I didn’t steal it,” he said. “It just took it.”
“That’s the same thing,” she said, and he shrugged with a smile.
“Where’d you get that thing anyway?” He pointed to the chalkboard. “Did you steal it? I hope not. Maya will report you.” Maya started to protest, but he wrapped his arms around her and grinned.
Clarke did her best to ignore the public display of affection, even though it made her uncomfortable. She was happy for Jasper, she really was… but Clarke couldn’t bring herself to trust anyone in Mount Weather. The more attached they became to their situation here, the harder it would be to leave. Soon they would have to make that choice; Clarke was certain of it. Something just didn’t feel right here.
However, the comforts and stability were exactly what they needed right now. They would need to regain their strength for the retaliation of the Grounders, who would never accept defeat so easily.
Maya eyed her suspicious. “Did you steal it?” She crossed her arms. After attacking her, Clarke would never completely have Maya’s trust.
She didn’t lose any sleep over that fact.
“No, I didn’t steal it,” she said, picking up the chalk again to continue her work. “Someone left it for me. It was here when I woke up.”
“Someone, eh?” said Jasper with a grin. “Perhaps someone called Spacewalker?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,”
Maya looked back and forth between them. “Who is Spacewalker?” She frowned and shoved Jasper lightly when he only answered with giggles. “Who is it?”
“Why does it matter?” he asked.
“I need to make sure he isn’t stashing anything else. We take our rules very seriously here.” Clarke glanced up and locked eyes with Jasper. They understand that in ways Maya never could, unless people in Mount Weather regularly threw criminals into the radiation of outside. It didn’t seem likely; there wasn’t the same limit of resources as there had been in the Ark.
“He won’t have anything else, Clarke is just special.”
Maya glared at Clarke, who ignored it. “Well I hope she isn’t so special that he keeps doing it.”
By the time lunch rolled around Clarke had finished her chalk sketch, and propped it up on her nightstand where she found it. Hours later when she returned, there was a second blackboard with a new note on it.
I can’t erase a masterpiece Princess. If you do that again I have to find another.
She was impressed that the whole message fit on the chalkboard, but when she looked at her chalk stash there was a thin long piece that hadn’t been there before. Clarke picked it up and looked around the room for Finn, but he wasn’t there. She erased the message.
Fine. Thank you.
It was physically painful to refrain from using this second board when it called to her so; instead she erased the first one and started working on a different scene. The chalk felt so amazing, like an extension of her arm that she had missed for too long. President Wallace had offered her art supplies in passing but she had declined initially, not wanting to feel indebted to him in any way. She couldn’t trust anyone in Mount Weather.
Once her chalk was worn down she might need to take him up on that offer; art withdrawal was not a pleasant experience.
In the morning, she glanced over to her desk the moment she opened her eyes. There was a new message waiting for her. What a great way to start the morning. All of this made Mount Weather so much more bearable.
I can’t believe you erased that, Princess. She smiled and pulled herself up, wiping the new message with her sleeve.
Everything is temporary. She sketched a little tree as a signature. Looking at it, she realized how much she missed trees now. A lifetime in a tin can should have prepared her for this isolation from nature, but after experiencing so much beautiful nature the cold confinement of Mount Weather was suffocating.
The rest of her morning was spent finishing her new picture on the first blackboard. It was completed before lunch; she was tempted to erase it immediately to start a new scene, but decided against that. After going through all this trouble for her, she would at least let Finn see her work before destroying it.
After lunch there was a new message: How wise, Princess. Clarke plopped onto her bed, grateful for the quick responses. It meant she could sketch again. Not to mention, there was something really fun about having this kind of slow, removed conversation with someone, almost as if they were passing secret messages back and forth.
Actually doing that would be stupid, though. She was aware of the numerous cameras watching them at all times.
It was almost a week before Clarke finally ran into Finn; extending the conversation the entire time. They exchanged messages at least three times a day.
“Hey!” she shouted, chasing him down the hallway. He turned at her voice and stopped, letting her catch up with him.
“What’s up, Princess?” He grinned at her exasperated cheerfulness.
“Like you don’t know,” she said, shoving him lightly on the shoulder. He waited for her to explain, then just looked confused.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Clarke let out a nervous laugh. “Don’t mess with me, Finn. I’m talking about the supplies you brought me.” The words didn’t click for him; he just kept staring at her with that empty, confused expression. “We’ve been writing back and forth for almost a week.”
He shook his head slowly, mouthing ‘no’. Clarke frowned and turned around, looking down the hall at some of the others from their group coming back from breakfast. She had been so sure it was Finn, because for anyone else it just didn’t make sense. Nobody else knew how important that gesture would be her; nobody else cared.
Except…
“I have to go,” she said suddenly, jogging back to the room.
When she got there, Bellamy was at her bed, holding the piece of chalk to the blackboard with a grin on his face. He didn’t see her at first, but dropped them both immediately when he did. “Nothing,” he said quickly.
“I know it was you.” She leaned against her bed frame, studying him. The more she got to know Bellamy, the more intriguing he became. Just weeks ago she would never had believed he would do something like this for her; now here he was, putting forth all this effort to make her happy. He was the only reason she hadn’t gone crazy yet, with this little gimmick. Clarke doubted he knew how great this had been for her.
“You caught me, Princess.” He threw up his hands, then picked up the fallen chalk and board and placed them back on her desk. “Not who you expected?”
“I knew it was you,” she lied quickly.
“No you didn’t.” He laughed when she caved.
“Why?”
“Does there have to be a reason?” She rolled her eyes at him. “We’re a team, Princess. We both know that, and our people know that. It works best when you’re not miserable.”
That response surprised her, and he seemed to notice. It was true, as strange as it sounded out loud. Even when they were at each other’s throats, they needed one another to keep their people alive. Bellamy was all strength and bravery, making tough calls and shouldering the most scarring responsibilities, but without Clarke’s leadership mind he might have led their people to barbaric, savage chaos.
“Thank you,” she said, after a long pause. Bellamy nodded to her and turned to walk away, but she grabbed his hand before he could. She felt him tense at her touch, before he turned slowly to look at their clasped hands. “Thank you,” she repeated.
With a small smile, he squeezed back gently. “Anytime, Princess.”