Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rain had turned to sleet.

When she left Bellamy at the gate of Camp Jaha, Clarke had no plans except to run. They all looked at her with those eyes. What was left of the 100, The 47, The Delinquents, her people. The Arkers who had come to save them. Her mother who had come to rescue her… her! And gotten herself tied to the table for it. She couldn’t make herself go into Camp Jaha with its electrified fence, and council sitting in judgement. She couldn’t face the eyes. That’s what she was running from— the knowledge in all those eyes that she had killed every last man, woman and child from the mountain. Bellamy’s eyes, too warm, too forgiving, too knowing. She could not be there.

She just walked. Her stomach grumbled from hunger, but she didn’t feed it. Her head hung heavy on her neck, but she just kept going, step after step. She stumbled sometimes, not steady. She just got back up and continued on, not knowing where she was heading. Not caring. Night crept in. The woods wept in the icy rain. It dripped down her collar and soaked her boots until she found herself back there, back at the imposing gate and its broken lock. She had broken it. It was all broken.

They had shut it when they left, walking away from the tomb. Never really planning to come back.

She had to take her knife and wedge in between the door and the jamb to pry the heavy door open, But once she got it a sliver open, she started pulling with her fingers. She couldn’t feel the door, as numb as her fingers were with the cold and damp, but it didn’t matter. The knife bent, but it didn’t matter. Once she got a good grip, the door opened easily. The mountain men had taken care of it. It was hung well and the hinges were well oiled, even if it was over a hundred years old. She slid inside and pulled it closed behind her. There were handles on the inside. That made it easier.

She leaned her forehead against the door and sighed in immediate relief. The wind and cold and damp ceased.

All was peace.

When she turned around, she tripped over the first body. He had been shoved over to the side of the wall. They must have done that when they had left. Just shoved him out of the way so they could take the survivors home to what was left of the Ark.

Clarke bent down to roll him over. She needed to see. He wore a guards uniform, but it didn’t fit. It was too big. He was thin and scrawny. Built like a kid. Like one of her kids. Even through the sores of his radiation poisoning, she could tell. He was just a kid.

There were two other bodies. One even younger than this, and the other a girl.

While she and Bellamy and Octavia were busy invading the tunnels, they had set children to guard the front gate. Children at the back gate. Children at the front gate. Children chained to the walls. Children letting in the radiation. Children dying as they played.

It kind of sucked to be a child on Earth.

“I’m sorry,” she said to the youngest one. Or tried. Her voice hadn’t been used in 8 hours and the wind and cold had made her hoarse. She coughed. There was a tickle. She said it again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I killed you. You didn’t deserve it.”
She closed his blistered eyes. “Or maybe you did,” she whispered to him. “You took the blood treatment. You all did. You put on the guard uniform. Maybe you would have been glad to take the bone marrow from Raven, or my mom, or me. Or Fox.” The last she barely said aloud. Poor Fox. The last she’d seen her had been in the dumpster, in the tunnels.

“Or maybe you would have been our friends.” She laid out his tortured limbs, straightened his legs, crossed his arms over his chest, unkinked his bent, skinny, pubescent neck. “Maybe you would have like to drink Monty’s moonshine and play cups with us.”

She moved on to the girl, or maybe she was a woman..It was hard to tell with the blisters, but she filled out her uniform, like it was her own. It had a name tag.

“Snipe,” Clarke said out loud. “Maybe you were in charge of this little junior unit.” She had dark skin and a black ponytail and was about the same size as Clarke. “Maybe we would have been friends.” She closed Snipe’s eyes and straightened her out like she had the boy.

She moved to the last body, and laid him out, closing his staring eyes. And then she just knelt there, hands in her lap, head bowed. She felt unreal. Her own body disconnected from her thoughts. She didn’t know how long she knelt there. Time didn’t really have meaning anymore. She was barely aware of anything around her.

The first thing that got her attention was something hot splashing on her clasped fingers, dripping into her palms. Tears. And then she realized she was speaking. Her creaky voice sounding odd to her own ears.

“You didn’t have to do it,” she told the dead kids. “We would have donated the bone marrow. If you could have been patient, between us and the Arkers, we could have donated, and you wouldn’t have had to kill anyone.”

She had taken his hand, his cold, lifeless hand.

“But that wasn’t your way, was it? You always took the blood from the Grounders. You locked them in cages like animals and hung them upside down, torturing them until they weren’t any use to you anymore, and then you threw them to the reavers, and let them be eaten while they were still alive.”

She patted his hand. “I know it wasn’t you…” she was sorry he didn’t have a name tag, her emergency fill in junior guard didn’t even rate a name tag. “But it was you. All for your chance to see the surface. To come home to the Earth.”

She remembered that day, so many weeks ago, when the drop ship doors opened and the 100 first set foot on good green Earth. This boy would never have that.

She sobbed for the tragedy.

When her shoulders had stopped shaking and she had cried out all the moisture in her eyes, Clarke came to a conclusion.

She climbed to her feet. It was hard. Her knees were stiff. Her balance was shaky. Her head seemed to have grown a couple of sizes. She didn’t know how long it had been since she last slept or ate or drank.

But she did know what she had to do.

“Restitution” she said, her voice echoed in the empty hall.

She was going to give the people of Mount Weather back to the Earth, at long last.

Chapter Text

“I miss my bed,” Harper said, as she huddled with the others around a slap-dash slab table, drinking moonshine and not talking about the mountain. At least they had been not talking about it. She’d broken the taboo.

“You mean your jail cell?” Miller snorted. His cup was empty.

“At least it was warm,” she said, hugged herself a little, and glared at him.

“Winter will pass,” Miller said, his voice strong and sure. “Out here, we’ll get to see spring come. In there, we wouldn’t have lasted the week. They would have drilled us all dry.”

Harper glared at him. He’d really broken the taboo. All she was talking about was a warm bed, not freaking dying by having their bone marrow sucked out of them while still alive. She looked back down into her moonshine and huddled in on herself. Remembering.

“You’re a dick, Miller,” Jasper said as he came up to them. He sat down next to Harper and put an arm around her.

“What? I’m just keeping it real,” Miller said.

“Dude,” Monty shook his head. “They had her on the table…” Miller’s face fell.

“Fuck,” he said, tears coming to his eyes. “I’m a dick. I’m sorry, Harper. I was trying to be…” He lost his words. He didn’t know what he was trying to be.

“S’okay,” Harper said, her voice much smaller. “You’re right. We’d be dead right now if we were there. Here we’re just cold. And they all stare at us.” She glanced out at the other tables in the yard. The Arkers all sat far away from them. The Delinquents. They shot suspicious glances at them. Pitying glances. “Eh,” she said, “We’ll probably all die of pneumonia and starvation before Spring comes anyway. Cheers,” she raised her glass in a toast. Miller laughed. “Here’s to dying in any number of horrifying ways.”

They were sick bastards. Even Jasper, who never laughed anymore, let out a short sharp bark. Death was funny now.

They settled down again, each staring into their own cup. In their silence, the door to the ark slammed open and clanged loudly. Everyone in the yard turned to look as Bellamy fumed his way towards them.

The Arker’s slanted their eyes at him. Some of them got up to leave.

Bellamy came up to them and stood, hovering over them, anger radiating off of him in waves. He breathed heavily as if he could barely contain himself. Jasper handed him his own, barely touched cup of moonshine.

Bellamy tossed it down in one shot. Gasped with the heat, and pulled up another make shift chair.

“They will never stop treating us like criminals,” he said, his voice low, like a secret. Harper, Miller, Jasper and Monty leaned in. Listening, like back in the mountain. “If it weren’t for Kane, I would have been locked up right now.”

“What? Why?” Monty said. “Because of the mountain?” He was the one who had programmed the computer to open the air filters. He thought about that every day, all day. Bellamy and Clarke had asked him to, but he’s the one who had done it, who had made it possible.

Bellamy pursed his lips. “The word ‘genocide’ was mentioned.”

“That’s ridiculous. It was them or us,” Miller said. “What about Abby, she knew that. She would have been the next to die if you hadn’t…”

“Yeah, well, Abby blames me for Clarke, so she’s not feeling real charitable. She jumped at any excuse to lock me up.”

“We’re not letting them lock you up,” Miller said.

“What are we going to do, Miller, fight the council?” Harper snapped back at him, still not forgiving him for his dickish ways.

“Why should we bother fighting the council? They need us more than we need them. Without us, the grounders would have destroyed them. They’d be living on dehydrated oatmeal. We can go back to the drop ship.”

“Miller, you’re talking out of your ass,” Harper said.

“He’s talking being our own people,” Monty spoke up. “We don’t have to be criminals anymore. We don’t have to wait around for the council to lock us up for doing what we have to. Or stick us on latrine duty because we don’t follow their stupid rules. We can go back to the drop ship. We already started to fortify and settle it. We can do it.”

The group stilled and looked around at each other.

Bellamy’s eyebrows drew together. It would be risky, but they could do it. “What about the rest of us. Is every body in? Are they all ready to go home?”

“They are with us,” Miller said.

“We all follow you, Bellamy. Not the council.” Harper added.

Bellamy nodded slowly. It was crazy. They were going to do it. “They sent us down here the first time without even water to keep us alive. This time, we’re taking supplies.”

Miller’s eyes lit up with mischief. He grinned. “Now you’re talking.”

The group leaned in to make their plans.

“I’m not going,” Jasper said.

“What?” Monty looked at him like he was crazy. Jasper didn’t meet his eyes. He turned to Bellamy.

“We just left her there,” he said. “We left her dead on the floor. I need to go back and give her a decent burial. She saved us. You know she did. She deserves that, at least.” His eyes swam with tears. He looked at Bellamy.

“Maya.” Bellamy's eyebrows drew together. He owed her. They all did.

“That’s 8 hours in the wrong direction, Bellamy," Miller shook his head. "We need to get back to the drop ship and get it ready for surviving the winter. We should get our defenses going right away before the council decides they need to bring us back under force.”

“The council would attack us?” Harper said in disbelief. She looked around at her friends. No one showed any faith that they wouldn’t. “That sucks.” She sighed heavily. “I definitely miss my bed.”

The moment froze.

One by one, their eyes met. No one spoke.

“We beat the mountain,” Bellamy finally said. “Mount Weather is ours.”

Chapter Text

“Bellamy!” Raven said, happy surprise in her voice, when she opened the door and saw him there. Looked behind him and saw Octavia and Lincoln.

His heart leapt. He couldn’t lose her, couldn’t lose anyone else. That was when he realized that Raven was as much his family as Octavia was.

Raven stepped back and let the three of them in. Bellamy looked at them. His family. Octavia and Raven, his sisters. Lincoln, his damn brother. All the delinquents, his brothers and sisters. He felt tears press on the back of his eyes.

“Great to see you guys,” Wick said as he stepped up from behind the work bench, where some technological marvel was in pieces on the table.

Wick.

And there was the problem. He liked the guy. He honestly did. He was smart and funny, he was very very useful, and he loved Raven. Bellamy could see it. He loved her the way she deserved to be loved. And she loved him back.

When they left Camp Jaha would Raven stay with Wick? He had to know, despite the fear buzzing in his head, so he just came out with it.

“We’re leaving.”

“What?” Raven said, her eyes bouncing back and forth between Bellamy, Octavia and Lincoln. Bellamy saw her take a step closer to Wick, as if for strength. “Where are you going? Are you going to look for Clarke?”

It was like a stab right to his heart. His answer come out harsher than he intended. “She made her choice.” He felt Octavia’s hand on his arm. She could tell how torn up he was that Clarke had left him.

“We’re leaving Camp Jaha,” Octavia said for him, and he was glad. He wasn’t sure if he’d have control over his words at that moment. “We don’t belong here.”

“Give them time, Octavia,” Raven looked at her and Lincoln. “I know they are afraid of Grounders still, but when they realize how much you have to teach them—“

“Grounders?” Octavia said, surprised. “Raven, it’s not about being a Grounder. I don’t belong here. I lived under a floor on the Ark. They found out about me and locked me in a box. The Arkers aren’t my people, and they never have been.”

Raven’s face fell. “You’re going to the Grounders?”

“We can’t go there, either,” Lincoln said. “I’m a traitor.”

Raven snorted. “Well that’s just stupid. What are you, just going to live in the woods by yourself?”

“Raven—“ Wick said.

Raven turned on Wick. “Are you not listening to this idiotic plan of theirs?”

“Raven,” Bellamy found his voice again. “We’re not going alone. We’re all going. We can’t stay here. We can’t be their delinquents anymore. We’re leaving the Arkers. We’re going to Mount Weather, and we’re going to take it and make it our home.”

Raven’s leg crumpled beneath her and she would have fallen except Wick was there to catch her.

“You’re leaving me?” She gasped. Bellamy thought she would cry, and the thought horrified him, but instead her face turned red and she exploded. “You fucking morons! What the hell do you think you are going to do up there without me? None of you know how to put two wires together. You think you can just ditch me here with my stupid leg and run off and be king of the mountain well you fuckers have —“

“Reyes!” Wick snapped. She turned her furious gaze on him. Bellamy thought he was brave, because he was sure she still had some knives tucked into her pockets.

“We,” Wick said, his arm circling the room in an exaggerated manner, “are going to Mount Weather. We, as in all of us. Not them without us.”

“What?”

“Did you think you weren’t coming with us?” Octavia asked, almost laughing. Bellamy thought she shouldn’t laugh at Raven, all those knives. But then, Octavia could definitely handle her own. “You’re our people, Raven.”

“I am?”

This was it. This was when she told them she was staying with Wick and engineering and Abby and the Arkers.

“Hold up, Octavia. You can’t assume that she’d come with us. She was never in the skybox. She’s got a job that the Arkers need. They want her. She’s got Wick, why would she want to come with us?” Bellamy tried to keep a reasonable, objective tone to his voice.

Raven gaped up at him. And then punched him in the chest. Hard.

“What the fuck, Raven!”

“What the fuck, Bellamy!” she shot back, glaring at him. “You fucking scared me!”

“Honestly, Raven, I don’t know how you managed being surrounded by norms for so long,” He said while he stuffed a rucksack full of esoteric tools and components.

He paused and looked up. “Actually, I think they might have rubbed off on you. It sure took you long enough to figure out what was going on.”

She glared at him, too, but couldn’t keep the corners of her lips from turning up. “Don’t forget the tool box,” she told him.

“As if,” he scoffed and went back to packing.

“Wait,” Bellamy said to Wick. “You’re coming with us?”

Wick grinned at Bellamy. “You think I’d pass up a chance to get my hands on all Mount Weather’s tech? Not a chance, buddy.” Now it was Bellamy’s turn to gape.

“Bellamy, he’s one of us,” Raven said, grinning. “I’d think you’d already have noticed, with all he’s been helping us.”

Wick grinned. “Nah. I’m just smart enough to figure out whose got the best chance of survival on this crazy world. Genius, remember? I’m betting on you to win, Bellamy.”

Wick was joking, because he was incapable of being serious, but he was also really smart, and what he said struck a chord. Bellamy pursed his lips, thinking. “You know who else will want to get his hands on the tech?” They all turned to look at him. “Kane. Tech and weapons. If we want to have any chance of freedom, of self determination on this planet, we have to get to Mount Weather before Kane remembers that we still have enemies. Or starts to think of us as the enemy.”

“Damn,” Raven said.

He nodded. “He’s been too distracted by Abby’s injuries to think about it.”

“Love will do that to you,” Octavia said, looking at Bellamy. He rolled his eyes and looked back at Raven.

“Yeah, well, Kane is always thinking about defense and it won’t take him long to realize he needs to take the mountain. How about you, Raven? You got drilled. Do you even really want to go back to a place where you were tortured?" He asked.

Raven snorted. "Torture? Name me a place in this universe where I haven't been tortured. So I got drilled, it wasn't any worse than surgery without anesthesia. That didn't stop me, either. You know what would make being tortured better? Those radios. I want those radios."

He smiled. "I'll get you radios."

"Get me some of that chocolate cake Monty told me about too. I think I can make peace with the mountain for chocolate cake."

He shook his head at her. "It's a deal. You sure you're feeling well enough to make the hike to Mount Weather?”

“No problem. Wick made me a fancy new brace. I’m good to go.”

“If you get tired,” Wick said, “I’ll carry you.” Raven looked at Wick and Bellamy had never seen such a softness in the tough girl’s face. He looked away.

He cleared his throat. “Be ready at second watch. We need to find Miller and see what his father said about helping us past the gates.”

Octavia nodded. “I’m on it.”

Lincoln spoke up. “I’ve got a hunting trip scheduled in a couple of hours. With all the new mouths to feed, I offered to bring in some game.”

“Good. Bring as many kids with you as you can. Meet us at the river crossing after midnight.” Lincoln nodded and he and Octavia left on a mission.
He looked back at Raven and Wick. Neither of them were joking or snarky now.

“I’m betting on you, Bellamy,” Wick said.

“I always bet on them,” Raven said, her eyes meeting Bellamy’s. “Even when I’m furious at them.” She smiled sadly. His thoughts went to Clarke.
He pressed his lips together and looked down. “Second watch,” he said again. And left.

Chapter Text

When she found herself at the edge of collapse, Clarke made her way to Dante Wallace’s room. She didn’t know why. Was it because he had helped them when he wasn’t plotting against them? Was it because she knew he loved art, the way she did? Maybe it was just because it was the last sleeping room she’d actually been in, and she knew it was empty of bodies.

The room was bright white and softly lit. The walls were covered in art work. A plus she thought, to be surrounded by art. She fell onto the bed, and it was surprisingly comfortable. Soft. Like sleeping on a cloud. She didn’t know if she’d ever slept in such a soft bed in her life. She was sure she’d wake up rested, ready for the monumental task of burying the dead.

She was wrong.

Her sleep was plagued by nightmares. Every time she opened her eyes, she was haunted by the images of darkness and horror in the paintings hung on the walls.

When she finally woke up, much later than she had intended, the fear of the nightmares did not fade. Her head swam with horrifying images, some that she herself had caused. She went to the painting that hung at the foot of Wallace’s bed. She knew it from school. Goya’s Saturn Devouring His Children. The god brutally tearing into the bleeding body of his own son. Wallace must have stared at it as he lay there.

She knew then that Wallace had known what he and his people had done. He had consciously chosen that path, to prey on others for their own survival. He believed that Clarke was the same as he was. He had told her so. She couldn’t say she wasn’t.

Her head pounded with her nightmares. Real and imagined. She shuffled through his drawers and was relieved to find a small bottle of analgesic. Barely enough to kill her headache. But she had no time to waste. She had too much to do. It took her a while to sort through the maps and charts of the mountain in Wallace’s computer, but when she found what she needed, she got right to work.

Clarke pushed the utility cart through the halls, collecting bodies and bringing them back to a cold storage room on the upper level. She knew that most of the dead were in the mess hall, but she was not ready to face them yet. Her victims. She would clear the halls first. Left with just the guards and rebels she was amazed at how few there actually were. Just a few men with guns had been terrifying the grounders and the delinquents alike.

And then she found Doctor Tsing. The kids had told her the stories of what the doctor had done. It hadn’t just been guns they’d had. It had been science and technology. And cruelty. She lifted the woman onto the cart, the lightest body she had yet moved, and found herself humming under her breath.

It was a familiar song. The one she had sung Atom to sleep with, before she’d inserted her blade into his jugular. Atom had been her first death. It had been a mercy. He could not be saved and she felt no guilt over it. She had to do it.

She found herself staring at Dr Tsing’s twisted features.

The Doctor had been as much a poison as the acid that had eaten through Atom’s body. And Cage Wallace, with his drugs turning the grounders into reapers. What had made them decide that the best way to the surface was to sacrifice her friends? Dante Wallace had been part of it too, with generations spent bleeding the grounders dry. The painting of Jupiter’s cannibalism flashed through her mind again.

Clarke slid down the wall to sit on the floor, her head pounding.

Even on The Ark those in power had sacrificed their own people for the chance to live. Anyone who challenged their rule. Her father for telling the truth, Bellamy's mother for having Octavia. Her own mother had sent her to earth with The 100 as not much more than a litmus test. Live or die, they were the sacrifice. No choice in the matter. No respect for their humanity. No value to their lives other than the sacrifice, radiation gauge or bone marrow. That’s all they were. Something to be used so that others could survive.

Her eyes went back to Dr Tsing, on the cart, limply draped over a man in civilian clothes.

She looked at him. He was no soldier. He was no doctor. Just a man. One of the rebels who had stood up to Wallace and tried to save her people. Not tried. Did. He had saved them. They were alive, and he was dead.

He had sacrificed his own life to save theirs because it had been the right thing to do.

Suddenly, Clarke was angry. Furious. The tears the came to her eyes weren’t sorrow, they were rage. She jumped up and shoved Dr Tsing off the cart with all her might. The body fell with a muffled thump. She went to the man and turned him over. No radiation sores. Gunshot wound. Clarke hadn’t killed him when she’d pulled that lever, The Mountain had killed him. Just like they had killed Fox. Sacrificed.

She couldn’t bear that she knew Dr Tsing’s name, but not this man. She went through his pockets and found his key card. Vincent Vie. Maya’s father.

She sat back on her heels, her angry tears ending as abruptly as they had begun.

It was intolerable.

Mount Weather had been a parasite sucking the blood out of the Grounders for generations. And they had intended to use her people the same way, sacrificed, tortured and killed so they could live. There could have been so many ways for them all to live in peace, but they had chosen to take. They had created a people who believed it was their birthright to kill others so they could live.

Mount Weather could not be saved.

The world had been too cruel. What they had done to survive had turned them into monsters as sure as what they had done had made the reapers.

She finally understood.

Just like with Atom, what she had done to Mount Weather had been a mercy. They had been too far gone. They could not come back from their brutality. But she would be damned if Maya’s and Vincent’s sacrifice, their courage, their lives would mean nothing.

Clarke jumped up and started shoving bodies off of the utility cart. Anyone in a guards uniform or medical coat was shoved to the side. She laid Mr Vie gently on the cart and headed to level 5.

She knew she was being irrational. Nothing really made sense right now, so she didn’t care. She just knew that she needed to get Maya’s body and honor her for what she had done for them, for saving her people, for saving Bellamy.

Clarke moved in a cloud of grief and anger. When she got to the mess hall, she hardly noticed the bodies, just went to Maya, where Jasper had laid her out on the table, her eyes closed, her hands folded on her chest.

Clarke lifted her in her arms and almost fell under the weight of the smaller girl, but managed to get her to the cart, laying her next to her father, arranging her limbs peacefully.

She rolled the cart through the halls and into the elevator, opening closets and doors and racks by the gate, searching for a shovel until she found one, and barely noticed the utensils she left scattered in her wake. She paid no attention to how heavy her head had gotten or the pain she felt when swallowing. The pain was fitting.

When she opened the front gate and shoved the cart ahead of her, the cold gust of wind almost felt good on her heated skin, the struggle of rolling the cart through the uneven meadow was penance. She picked a spot on top of a gentle rise and started digging.

It wasn’t until a wracking cough nearly brought her to her knees that she realized she wasn’t just overwrought by guilt and grief, but was actually sick.

“I have to do it,” she croaked into the cold, wet wind. Her voice didn’t sound like her own. The grave was not deep enough. She’d watched them at the drop ship, even though she’d never been pressed into grave digging service. It was only right that she take her turn burying the girl who had saved them, the girl she had killed.

When she judged the grave deep enough, almost too deep for her and her dizzy head to climb out of, she stumbled to the cart, covered in mud. There was Maya, cold and dead. The radiation sores marring her pretty face.

“I know we would have been friends, Maya.” Her voice was so scratchy, her throat hurt so much, Clarke couldn’t continue on. She couldn’t tell Maya all the things she wanted to. “We were the same,” she whispered.

Clarke could no longer lift Maya’s body at all. The ache in her bones and her shaky limbs threatened to give out, so she settled for dragging Maya through the long grass to the hole in the brown earth. Tears fell down her face as she rolled Maya into the grave. She didn’t even make a sound as she fell. Clarke began shoveling dirt back into the hole. Her hands were blistered and bleeding by the time she finished, but it barely registered with the rest of her misery.

The cold drizzle had soaked through her leathers, but she couldn’t stop until she had marked the grave. She found one of the heavy stones she had dug out of the grave and scratched Maya’s name into it with her knife while her teeth chattered. She placed the marker at the head of the grave and found herself on her knees beside it.

“Welcome home, Maya,” she rasped, and broke into a coughing fit.

The next thing she knew, it was night and she was laying on the cold ground, shivering violently.

The only light came from the open doorway into the mountain.

“Get up,” a voice commanded.

“Wha?” Clarke mumbled.

“Get up and get out of the rain.” Clarke looked over. Maya stood over her, dressed in the same containment suit she was wearing when she first met her, and attacked her with a piece of glass.

“No,” Clarke said. “I can’t do it.”

Maya leaned down and spoke from only inches away from Clarke’s face. “Get up and go inside. You are going to live because I couldn’t. Don’t you dare waste my sacrifice.”

“You’re dead.” Clarke said.

“Yes, and you’re not. Let’s keep it that way. You have a fever and you’re delirious. You have to get shelter or you’ll die.”

“But your father…I didn’t…”

“Inside. Now.”

She wanted to argue with the ghost. Or her hallucination. It didn’t matter which. But ghost-Maya wouldn’t stop yelling at her. “Inside. Now.” She kept repeating. It was easier just to crawl her way towards the door than to argue with the nagging delusion.

“Fine,” Clarke said, as she finally crawled into the hall, out of the cold spitting rain and the raw air. “Good enough for you?” she asked the ghost, only there was no ghost. It was just her and the empty hall. And that was where she closed her eyes and collapsed.

Chapter Text

Bellamy was surprised how quickly they made the march to Mount Weather. The nasty rain had slacked off just past midnight, leaving the skies clear and bright and the moon shining almost bright as day. The first piece of luck they’d had since finding those stored guns, way back when. It was the perfect weather for a late night mission and the kids moved swiftly.

That was the biggest surprise. Most of his delinquents were full of energy. For all that they had been imprisoned in the mountain, they’d also had medical treatment, full rest, and more food than they’d ever had since… well… ever. Bellamy’s mouth watered at the tales of the feasts Dante Wallace held for them. Things he’d only read about in books, chocolate cake, beef stew, and mounds of fresh vegetables. So much better than the nutrition bars and soy cakes that were the staple of the Ark diet. They had been treated like kings and queens of old in Mount Weather, at least until they went all vampiric, blood-sucking, drain them dry. They’d been fed in order to be consumed. The proverbial fatted calf. He shivered.

To be honest, the kids who had been captured were doing better than he was. All except for Harper, who had been drilled almost to the point of death. The bigger kids were taking turns carrying her piggy back as they tromped through the woods. They’d made a game of it, now the sun had risen, running her through the woods to hear her squeal. It made him happy to hear them laughing. By all rights, none of them should be laughing, not after what they’d been through. Hell, none of them should be alive, but they were. They were alive and free, and on Earth and they had won.

He looked over at Raven. She kept trying to make the hike on her own two feet, but kept faltering. And every time she did, Wick would swoop her up in his arms. Bellamy had tried to carry her for a bit, but she’d nearly cut him over it. It wasn’t worth the fight. He had the other kids carry their packs instead, sharing the heavy load of tech equipment around the whole group.

Even now, Raven and Wick were bickering back and forth as he carried her. But she wrapped her arms around his neck even while she was calling him an idiot.

His heart twisted. He had no reason to think of Clarke wrapping her arms around his neck and calling him an idiot. But he did. And he was an idiot for it.

“Bellamy!” someone called to him from the front of the line. Everyone stopped where they were and turned to him. He jogged up to Miller, at the tree line, his gun drawn, and looking into the clearing at the entrance to Mount Weather.

“Someone’s here,” Miller said. They could clearly see the cart with the body, the tools strewn about, and the freshly turned earth.

“The door is open.” Bellamy said, senses on high alert. He wasn’t the only one.

All the delinquents had immediately gone from lighthearted kids enjoying their freedom, to survivors, warriors. Weapons raised, eyes on the look out. Even Harper was on her feet, and she was armed.

Jasper pushed through to look into the clearing. “Is that a grave?” he asked, and didn’t wait for an answer. His gun hanging at his side, he went jogging towards the mess in the clearing.

“Miller,” Bellamy said, nodding for him to follow Jasper. Miller stalked after him, his gun swiveling around the clearing.

“This is Maya’s dad.” Jasper called out when he got to the body on the cart, then crossed to the grave where he froze, looking down at the ground for long minutes.

Bellamy stared at him. What was wrong? Why didn’t he say something? Bellamy started walking towards them, and gestured for the rest of the kids to follow. “Miller,” he said again. Miller stepped closer to Jasper to see what he was looking at.

He gasped and looked back at Bellamy. “It says Maya. It’s Maya’s grave.”

“What?” Monty said, next to Bellamy. He shouldn’t be at the front. He didn’t have a weapon. “Did someone survive the radiation? If they did, that means they got marrow treatments. If they got marrow treatments, then Maya would be a traitor to them, why would they bury her? First. The only one.”

Bellamy shook his head. It didn’t make sense. And when things didn’t make sense, they were unpredictable and dangerous. And the door they’d left closed was open.

“Stay here,” he told Monty, and gestured for his shooters to come with him.

They crossed the field in silence, weapons up, his heart beating rapidly as he got to the door, gaping open. He signaled a halt and peeked around the door, gun at the ready.

“There’s a body,” he said. It was muddy and dressed in leathers. Bellamy stepped inside. “I think it’s a grounder.” Then the body groaned and turned over.

Bellamy’s gun fell from limp fingers to hang at his side. “Clarke,” he whispered. He ran to her and knelt beside her. She was shivering and her eyes fluttered open only to close again. “Clarke?”

He heard the kids outside echo him. “It’s Clarke!” they called to the others.

She was burning up. He pulled her into his lap and held her in his arms. “What the hell, Clarke,” was all he could say.

“Bellamy?” she said faintly, her dry lips moving against the skin of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m here, Clarke. You’re sick. Is this how you take care of yourself when I’m not around?”

She looked at him with eyes that didn’t quite focus, and lifted a limp hand to his cheek. The heat in her touch was like a brand, she was so feverish. It scared him.

“No more sacrifices,” she muttered. “Okay? No more sacrifices.”

“You got it, Princess. No more sacrifices.”

She smiled at him and her eyes closed as her head fell back against his shoulder. “Good,” she said, barely audible. “No more sacrifices.”

He turned his head to the left just a fraction and pressed a kiss to her heated forehead. “Especially not yours.”

Chapter Text

The first time she woke, she fell out of bed, screaming and thrashing. “I won’t eat them! I won’t eat them!”

Bellamy came rushing into the room and knelt next to her. “It’s just a dream, Clarke. You’re dreaming.” She took a swing at him. He took the punch. “You’re safe, Clarke.”

Her eyes opened, looking past Bellamy. “I ate the children.” Her face was pale, and damp with sweat.

Bellamy followed her gaze and saw the painting in dismay. For the first time he looked at the walls of the room they’d put her in. They’d thought she’d like it because it was full of art, but he realized now these were the most grim paintings he’d ever seen.

“I ate them, Bellamy,” she sobbed.

“Monty!” Bellamy called. “Get these damn paintings out of here. They’re giving her nightmares.”

Monty poked his head in and looked around the room. “Geez,” he said.

“Start with that one.” Bellamy pointed at the cannibalistic horror.

Monty called Miller in and the two of them started removing all the dark artworks.

Bellamy stayed on the floor and gathered Clarke into his arms. “It’s over, Clarke. You’re okay. I told you. No more sacrifices.” He hugged her to him, brushing her sweaty hair back from her face. “I think your fever’s broken. Monty found the antibiotics. You’re going to be okay.”

Her eyes focused on Bellamy. “It was a dream.”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“You’re here.” She said. “That’s not a dream. “

“I’m here,” he said.

She closed her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder. He held her, feeling her heartbeat slowly calm back to normal. He just held her, while Monty and Miller cleaned out the room, bringing it back to pure white. No nightmares.

She slept peacefully, still he held her, cradling her in his lap, until Miller poked his head in the door.

“They need you up top, Bellamy.” He said.

“Okay. I’m coming.” Miller went into the hall to wait, and Bellamy put his hand to Clarke’s cheek once more, telling himself he was checking for fever. There was none. He lifted her in his arms, and put her back in the bed, tucking the soft blanket around her.

She startled and sat up. “I have to bury them,” she said, looking straight at Bellamy.

“We’re already on it, Princess,” he eased her back onto the pillow, her eyes closing.

“Okay,” she said. And sighed.

Her sigh broke his heart. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. He bent down and kissed her lips, barely touching her then pulled back an inch, and whispered, “You’re not alone.”

He turned around and left. He didn’t want to, but he had work to do.

The door closed behind him. He never saw the smile clinging to Clarke’s lips.

*****

The second time Clarke woke up, the room smelled of trees and flowers.

She opened her eyes and the sterile room was full of greenery. On every table and surface were jars and vases, filled to over flowing with golden grasses and red and yellow autumn leaves. Wild flowers dotted the room. There was even a glass bowl with a glowing pink fish swimming about in it.

She sat up.

“What the hell? Where am I?”

The door opened and Raven walked in with a huge smile on her face.

“Morning sleepy head,” she said.”How you feeling?”

“Raven!” Clarke said. “What happened? How did you get here? What is all this?”

“We found you. The kids brought you all this, so you wouldn’t feel like you were trapped, like before. I kind of like it. Those paintings were horrid. No wonder you had nightmares.”

“Nightmares?” Her mind was full of nightmares. It was hard to separate the dreams from the reality, to be honest. “But… Camp Jaha…you were supposed to… I thought… my mom…”

“Yeah. I know. We we were supposed to stay. It didn’t work out. Why you didn’t tell me you were planning on ditching.”

“What?” Everything confused her. She had a headache.

“Don’t give me that,” Raven said, with a smirk. “If you had told me you were leaving to be alone, I would have called you an idiot and given you all the reasons that was a stupid idea and you would not have been able to argue with me.”

Clarke put her hands up to her head, as if that would keep it from pounding.

Raven looked at her and then took a pill bottle from the side table, shaking out a couple and then handing them to Clarke with a glass of water. “It’s nice to have medicine again.” Clarke swallowed them and drank the whole glass.

“Hungry?” Raven asked, and when Clarke nodded, she took out her walkie. “She’s up. Send her meal.” She nodded and then sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’d be surprised at how handy our delinquents have been in the kitchen here. Turns out illegal black market trading isn’t the only thing Nygel taught in the mess hall. Those kids are in love with the ingredients in the kitchen.” She laughed. “They said they have to use the perishables before they go bad, because there are barely 50 of us here, compared to the hundreds of mountain men there used to be.”

Raven caught the dark look that passed Clarke’s eyes. “Hey. Knock it off. You did the right thing. Can you imagine what would have happened if those vampires had gotten free reign of the surface? They were exactly the kind of people who caused the world to end in the first place. We’re here now. It’s our world. And we’re going to do it right.”

Clarke shook her head. “Raven, I’ve done such awful things.”

“You saved us. Not just your people. You saved the Arkers who were next in the line of fire, you saved the Grounders they were bleeding dry. You saved all the future grounders from being prey. Not just us, Clarke. You saved hundreds, thousands of people. You saved the whole world from being at their mercy.”

Clarke sighed and looked away. Raven’s eagle eyes didn’t miss that either.

“And I know also why Bellamy let you go off by yourself to catch the flu and nearly die on us. He’s too stupid in love with you to challenge you when you do something noble and dumb, like leaving to bear it all on your own. He told me.”

She snorted. “Bellamy challenges me plenty, Raven. Believe me. He never holds back because—what did you say?”

Raven cocked her head at Clarke and smirked. “You caught that, did you?”

“Did you say Bellamy is…” she couldn’t say the words.

“He would do anything for you, but he’s too afraid to ask for anything back. He doesn’t know what I know, though.”

Clarke’s eyes widened as she looked at her friend. “What do you know?”

“Let’s just say I’ve learned a little bit about fear and love, lately.”

“You and Wick,” Clarke said.

“You and Bellamy. Don’t change the subject.”

Clarke’s heart started pounding fast. She shook her head. “There is no me and—“

A knock came at the door. It opened without waiting for a response. Bellamy walked in with a laden tray.

“—Bellamy,” Clarke breathed.

“Hey Princess,” he smiled. “Feeling better?”

She couldn’t speak just then, filled with relief that he was there, and other things that she didn’t think she had words for. She nodded.

“You doing room service now, Blake?” Raven teased, still with that smirk on her face.

“I needed to talk to Clarke and update her on what’s going on. She needed to eat.” His eyebrows drew together, but he shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Oh,” Raven said. “Okay. I’d better leave you to it then.” Raven turned to Clarke and winked. “Bye, Griffin.” Then she flounced out of the door.

There was silence. Clarke could feel Bellamy’s eyes on her. “She was worried about you,” he said. She turned to look at him. “They all were. But Monty knows pharmaceuticals and he knew just what we needed to get you well. We’re lucky Mount Weather is so well stocked. Antibiotics. Orange juice. Chicken soup.”

“What?”

“Eat up, Princess. This is to make you well.” He leaned over her to place the tray over her lap, settling the legs into place around her.

His nearness, the smell of him, overwhelmed her. She remembered the feel of his lips on hers. His words— you are not alone. She remembered his arms around her, as she tried to break free of her nightmare. She remembered how safe she felt.

He stood back and looked at her. “What? Why are you smiling?”

She shook her head, at a loss for words. “Everybody’s okay?”

“Everybody’s more than okay.”

Another thought came to her. She frowned. “The bodies?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “We took care of them. We buried them all. Even the ones who died before the battle. We found their morgue. We’ve listed them all and marked their graves. Names, families, occupations. They kept very good records of everyone. 382 people. ”

She looked at him confused. "How long was I out?"

“A couple days. Everyone worked together to take care of them. We still have to make the headstones for everyone. It takes a while.”

“You buried them all? But I was supposed to. It was for me to bear.”

Bellamy shook his head. “Dante was wrong.” He reached out and held onto her hand. “You don’t have to bear it alone. He used that as a way to rationalize his atrocities. You weren’t the one who made it us or them. They did that. You made the right choice, and we stand with you. All of us do. I do, always.”

His eyes stared into hers. “Bellamy, I—“

His walkie went off. “Bellamy, they’re here.”

Bellamy dropped her hand and jumped up. “I’m coming up,” he said into the walkie.

“Who’s here?”

“Kane and your mother. The Arkers are coming to collect us.”

Chapter Text

“Bellamy,” she reached out to grab his hand before he could walk away. A jolt shot through her at the contact. She blinked at him. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly at her. Suddenly she realized how infrequently they actually touched, at least while she was conscious. She remembered the kiss while she had been falling asleep. “Wh-what’s going on?” She needed to get her head together. To understand.

He turned back to her. “Clarke, we deserted Camp Jaha. We left in the middle of the night.”

“Why?”

“We couldn’t stay there. We’ve been through too much.” He sat back down on the edge of the bed, his hand grasping hers. Their eyes met, and she could see him thinking about everything that had happened since the drop ship. “If they weren’t treating us like children, they were treating us like criminals. The Arkers don’t change. They want it to be like it was before. They think anything else is anarchy. We just had to get out of there, and be our own people again.”

“Whatever the hell we want, huh?” Clarke said. She shocked herself with the teasing tone in her voice.

He cocked his head at her and tried to keep his lips from turning up into a smile. “The kids needed to do something, get out, go somewhere, or they were going to lose it,” He rubbed the back of her knuckles with his thumb while he talked, keeping his eyes on their clasped hands. “And they had us confined for our safety.” He snorted in amusement. “Can you believe it? They sent us down here without even water or medical supplies, and now they want to keep us safe.”

Clarke remembered how confining the rules of Camp Jaha were, and how she and Bellamy and Raven simply couldn’t follow them.”You did the right thing, Bellamy. We don’t belong there anymore.”

“It just got worse when we got the rest of the delinquents back. Wouldn’t let us have weapons, or go outside of the fence. They just wanted to keep us there and tell us what to do, as if we hadn’t been surviving down here for weeks, alone. And your mother…”

“What about her?” Clarke was surprised at how soft her own voice sounded. Bellamy’s touch was making her stomach fluttery.

“She blamed me for you leaving. For everything that happened in Mount Weather, actually. She threatened me with imprisonment. Again.”

“You saved her! You saved all of them.”

“I don’t think she would have done it,” he said. “But I wasn’t going to stick around and find out. She was angry and upset, but she is also chancellor, and I didn’t want to find out what an angry and upset chancellor would do to her scapegoat.”

Clarke was shaking her head. “She thought you made me leave?”

“She thought I didn’t stop you.”

“What did she think you could do?”

His eyebrows drew together and his glance fell back down to their hands, His now limp. “It was your choice.”

“I had to, Bellamy.” She brought her other hand up to cover his.

“I know, Clarke. And I know you always do what you think is best for everyone.”

She shook her head. “Sometimes I do the wrong thing.”

“Clarke, you can’t second guess yourself like that. Everything you did was for the best.”

“No. Bellamy. No. I sacrificed you to Mount Weather.”

“That was my choice, Clarke. And it was the right choice. We won.”

She gasped and looked up into his eyes, drawn in by the warmth. He had chosen to sacrifice himself. Like Maya and her father. The thought of him lying next to them in a grave was intolerable. “I sacrificed all of TonDC, they didn't make that choice. I chose for them. I let them be bombed to keep you safe.”

“You had to, for our plan to work.”

“No. I didn’t do it for the plan. I didn’t do it for our people. I did it for you, because I needed you to be alive. “

He blinked and opened his mouth to speak.

His walkie sputtered to life again. “Bellamy, you gotta get up here. There are guns being pointed.”

Clarke looked at him in horror. Arker vs Delinquent. “This is not happening.”

Bellamy stood up. “Stand down, Miller,” he spoke into the walkie.

“Everybody is freaking out up here. You’ve got to get up here.”

Clarke jumped out of bed and grabbed the walkie. “Miller, they aren’t our enemies. Invite them in.”

“There is no way they are getting in the mountain with guns, Princess. Don’t worry, I got this.” He took the walkie back. “Take them to the tent we set up, Miller. Offer them food, like we planned. Clarke’s right. They aren’t our enemies. But they aren’t in charge of us anymore, either. I’ll be up there in a minute.”

Clarke grabbed his hand and spoke into the walkie. “We’ll be up there. I’m coming too.”

“Hurry up,” Miller said. And then the walkie went silent.

“Clarke, you’re sick. Please. Stay here and recuperate. Trust me to take care of this.”

“Bellamy, I do trust you. Sometimes more than I trust myself. But I have to be there. She’s my mother. If she’s going to be mad at anyone for leaving, it’s going to be me. I”m not going to let her take it out on you or our people.”

He pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Okay. But you’re not going up there looking like that.”

She looked down at herself, in pajamas. “Do I look so bad?”

“You look like you are this side of death’s door, and your mom will freak out.” He went to the drawer at the side of her bed and pulled it open. Clothes were folded neatly in the drawer. “We knew you’d want to get out of here eventually, and probably too soon for your own good. Get changed.”

He turned to leave, but Clarke grabbed his arm. “Don’t go up without me,” she said.

His lips quirked upward. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’m not going anywhere without you. We’re in this together.”

Chapter Text

Bellamy kept an eye on Clarke as they left to meet with the Arkers, and she seemed fine until the elevator opened on the top level of Mount Weather. She took a step forward into the hall and would have collapsed, if Bellamy hadn’t been right there. He caught her, and held her to him, one arm firmly around her waist.

“Shit, Clarke. You can’t negotiate like this.”

“It’s nothing. I just got a little light headed. Give me a moment.” She rested her forehead against his chest. “Just a moment.”

“You should be in bed.” He couldn’t help the low, gravelly tone to his voice.

“No… I just… maybe I should have eaten that soup.”

As much as he liked her head on his chest, he put a finger to her chin and tilted her face up so he could look at her. Her eyes fluttered open and focused on his, after minute.

“I’m okay.”

He put his hand to her forehead. “Still no fever.” She was so pale, though. “When was the last time you had something to eat?”

She lowered her eyes to think then shook her head. “I can’t remember. Maybe on the way back to Camp Jaha.”

Bellamy grit his teeth to keep from yelling at her. “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

She shrugged.

He tilted her chin up to look at him again. “Listen to me, Clarke. You can’t do that anymore. We need you to stay alive. We need you.”

“We?” she asked so quietly, he could barely hear her.

A hand came around the elevator door, holding it open before it could close. Octavia snorted when she saw them. “Sorry to interrupt,” she scoffed, “but your mom is about to shoot everyone up there if we don’t bring you out, Clarke.” She glared at Clarke.

“I’m not sure she’s up for this, O. She can barely stand.”

Clarke shook her head and pushed at him weakly, trying to step back. He let her go.

“I can do it,” she said and tottered where she stood. Both Bellamy and Octavia reached out to keep her from falling. Bellamy caught her first and she slumped against his side.

“Abby’s going to kill us for sure for letting this happen to you,” Octavia said, shaking her head in disgust.

“You didn’t let this happen to me. I did it to myself.” She pushed off of Bellamy to try to stand. “Let’s go talk to the trigger happy Chancellor.”

“I’m not letting go of you.”

“Well that’s a good thing, Blake, because if you do, I”m going to end up a big pile of princess on the floor. Help me walk.”

Bellamy snorted. “Princess is right.” He wrapped an arm around her back and let her cling to his side. And as they passed one of the kids set to guard the hall, he told her to get Clarke a tray of food from kitchen.

Octavia walked in front of them, her face angry and fierce. Her sword was drawn as if she was going to have to defend Clarke against the Arkers, and she wasn’t happy about it. As they made their way through the clearing to the tent they had set up for the meeting, it seemed like a good precaution.

Abby jumped up and her guards bristled and aimed their guns at Bellamy.

“What did you do to her?”

Bellamy felt a rage rising at Abby, at the Arkers, at how they always looked at him as if he was a criminal, even when he had saved them all.

But Clarke put her soft, cool hand on his chest, and the anger drained out at him. “Mom,” she said, and took one step out of his arms. He kept his hand to the small of her back, kept contact, steadying her and being there for her if she needed him. “I”m sick. Bellamy didn’t do it. Exhaustion. Exposure. I caught the flu. I would have died if they hadn’t shown up here and found me.”

“Well they haven’t taken very good care of you. Come back, and I will give you medical attention.”

“At Camp Jaha?” Her voice gained strength. “Hardly. We have antibiotics and medicines and IVs and warm shelter and food. I will get better here.”

The Arkers grew silent and still. They had none of these resources. Everyone knew they wanted them—needed them if they were going to survive the winter.

Bellamy needed to get Clarke to sit down and it wasn’t going to happen with everyone challenging everyone else in the open air. “Why don’t we go to the tent and talk about it.”

“Let us in Mount Weather to talk about it,” Abby snapped. It was the delinquents’ turn to point their weapons.

Bellamy took a breath to shout her down, but Clarke put a hand to his arm.

“Here’s the thing, Chancellor,” Clarke said, she took another step forward. “The ground is not The Ark. We,” she gestured to her people, to Bellamy, “are not Arkers, and we don’t fall under your dominion.” Her voice strengthened. The delinquents raised their chins and glared back at the Arkers proudly. She was claiming their independence.

“We were sent down here, against our will, without our permission, to die. And you don’t know how many times we almost did. We learned how to live. We fought long and hard to survive here, without help.” Bellamy stepped up behind her, to show Abby that Clarke spoke for him, for all of them. But he’d also seen the slight waver in her stance. He was afraid she’d burn herself up in her passion and collapse right there. If she did, he’d catch her.

“And when The Ark landed here, you immediately treated us like criminals and children once again. You threw Bellamy in jail!” He could hear the emotion behind her words. “You tried to keep us behind walls, ignored all that we learned to survive here. Sabotaged our efforts at making allies with the Grounders. You sacrificed us, again, to the mountain men. We beat the mountain out to kill us all, without help. And until you recognize that we are our own people and that we know what needs to be done, you and your army will not be welcome in our mountain. ” Clarkes voice had gotten stronger and louder as she made her speech, and it wasn’t until the very end that Bellamy could hear the tremor in her voice.

“Clarke…” Abby said, and her voice wasn’t the voice of a Chancellor, but of a mother. “We all had to make sacrifices…”

“Mom,” Clarke said, she breathed out and put her head down for an instant. Bellamy put a steadying hand on her elbow. She stood straighter. “I listened to the wrong people.” Her mother frowned at her. “I doubted what I knew to be right. That won’t happen again.”

Clarke took a slight step back and Bellamy got ready to catch her if she fell, but she didn’t fall. She pressed her back up against him, leaning into his chest, as if gaining strength from him. Her voice rang out, strong again. “There will be no more sacrifices. We will not allow it.”

The field was silent. The Ark guards on one side and the armed delinquents on the other. A hawk cried overhead.

Abby pressed her lips together, as if she were annoyed, but Bellamy swore there was a proud glint in her eye. “Well then I guess we’d better proceed to the council tent so that our people can come to an agreement.” She went back to the tent, Kane following, without saying anything more.

Clarke sagged back against Bellamy, breathing heavily.

“You were brilliant,” he whispered into her ear, because it was so close. “But are you okay?”

She shook her head tightly. “I don’t think my legs will hold me much longer.”

“Let’s get you to the tent where you can sit down.”

“You were right, Bellamy, I should have stayed in bed. I’m not up for this.”

“I was wrong. We couldn’t do this without you. You calmed every body down. Cut right to the heart of the matter. Got her to talk to us, and gave us a new mission.”

She turned in his arms to look at him. “What?”

“It’s the dawn of a new era. We’re going to bring civilization back to the earth.”

“Bellamy Blake, we are not ancient Greece.” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh yes, we are, princess.” She was too weak to argue with him anymore. She simply snorted and let her head fall onto his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go build our republic.”

Chapter Text

The meeting tent surprised Clarke. She’d imagined one of the tents they’d been living in before, furnished with ragged blankets and rudimentary stools and salvaged ship bits. Instead, Bellamy lifted the entrance and led her into a warm and inviting space. The walls were hung with tapestries and the floor was layered with rich rugs. A solid table was set up in the middle of the room surrounded by upholstered, if threadbare, chairs. Braziers burned in the corners and lanterns hung from the supports. And it was warm in here. The air outside was brisk and the wind was sharp, but inside the tent, they were protected.

“Wow,” Clarke said.

Bellamy led her to a deep arm chair. “Sit.”

At his commanding tone, she gave him a glare, but he just leveled a look back at her, daring her to try to argue. She almost did, out of habit, but when he quirked his eyebrow at her, she gave up. She couldn’t stand on her own anyway. She sank into the chair. “You did a really good job in here, Bellamy.”

He shook his head. “Not me. I thought there’d be some folding chairs maybe. Monroe was in charge of the meeting plans. This is all her.” He nodded at someone standing behind Clarke, silently.

Clarke turned in her seat and saw the girl, nervously holding onto her own hands. She stepped forward and leaned close to Clarke. “They have so much STUFF, Clarke,” she whispered loudly. “The whole mountain is full of stuff.” Her eyes glittered with glee. She’d missed the mountain the first time around, luckily, but apparently was making up for it with a new outfit to go with her gun and boots.

“Turns out, Monroe’s parents worked at The Exchange. She knows stuff.” Bellamy said.

“Thanks Monroe. You did a good job.”

Monroe ducked her head. “I’m glad you’re better,” she said and then stepped back.

Clarke turned to look at the rest of the people at the table. Her mother and Kane were there, obviously, but also Sinclair, and he smiled at her. Raven grinned at her from the end of the table, with Wick at her side. And Monty sat next to him. He smiled at her, too, but it was more tentative. She smiled sadly back at him.

Then a burst of cold air entered the tent, along with Octavia, who went immediately to sit at one of the chairs. “Lincoln will be here in a minute. He got called away to deal with something.”

That made Clarke nervous for a minute, because if Lincoln were dealing with it, then it was doubtless something to do with the Grounders. And she knew the Lexa was still out there with her giant grounder army who was no longer allied with the sky people.

She shook her head and thought about who else should be there. “No Jasper?”

Bellamy shook his head. “He needed some time to himself. He’s not ready.”

“You see how that is, Clarke?” Raven said, sarcastically. “He needed some time alone, we let him be, and he doesn’t feel the need to head off unprepared in the wilderness with storm coming on so he almost dies. I know. It’s a crazy concept.” She raised her eyebrows and looked at Clarke as if she’d done something stupid.

Clarke glanced at her mother and noticed she had a very similar expression. The tent opened again. Clarke was expecting Lincoln, but instead, it was another of the delinquents with a covered tray. She brought it over and set it down in front of Clarke with a smile. More soup. She put the cover back on it.

“Eat,” Bellamy said.

“It’s a council meeting, I’m not going to eat breakfast.”

“You need to eat,” Bellamy said quietly. He didn’t sit. He stood behind her chair, with the guards, his gun held securely. On edge.

“This is ridiculous.” Abby said.

Everyone looked at her.

“We’re not enemies. We’re not going to attack you and drag you back with us. Whether or not I am chancellor, Clarke, I’m also your doctor and your mother. Listen to Bellamy. You need to eat so you can get better and lead your people well. Council meeting or no.”

“Abby’s right,” Kane spoke up. “We’re not enemies. And we don’t need armed guards.” He told his guards to wait outside of the council tent. “We are not going to hurt you. We are on your side.”

When Kane spoke, his eyes were on Bellamy. Bellamy returned the look. Something passed between them, and much of the tension went out of Bellamy’s shoulders. Clarke put a hand on Bellamy’s wrist and he looked at her. She nodded slightly to him. Bellamy turned to the armed delinquents and dismissed them, nodding to Monroe before she left, as if this had been part of their plan, as well. Hopefully that meant things were going well.

Finally all the guards were gone and the only one left standing was Bellamy. Clarke turned to him, and he finally hung his gun off of the back of his chair and sat.

Clarke looked at her mother, finally. “And we are not going to let Camp Jaha starve or freeze this winter. We aren’t going to leave you without supplies. I told you, no more sacrifices.”

She was surprised to see all the Arkers let out a breath of relief. They had really been worried that she would deny them needed resources. She supposed it made sense, since they had put the delinquents in a drop ship without any supplies, but that was also why they needed to break off from Camp Jaha.

“That’s good, Clarke,” Abby said. “And as soon as you start eating, we can talk about how our people can help each other.”

They got ready to start when the door hanging was pulled aside again. Lincoln strode in, a gust of wind swirling about him. “We have a problem.” Everyone turned to him, but he stepped aside to reveal Harper behind him, “Tell them,” he said.

“The Reapers are back,” she said. She was back in boots and jeans, back with the gun in her hands, and she had a look to her face that Clarke had never seen. The mountain had changed her. “I went down to the catacombs, on my guard rounds. The reapers have filled the halls outside of the door. There are so many.”

“They’re looking for The Red,” Lincoln said. “But they aren’t going to find it.”

“Without it they’ll die,” Abby said, leaning forward.

“They’re already starting to go into withdrawal, Chancellor,” Harper said, “that’s why Lincoln said I should break into the meeting.”

Clarke sat back. “No more sacrifices,” she said without meaning to. Everyone turned to look at her. “We have to help them detox from the drugs Cage gave them. We have to give them back to the grounders if we can.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy said. “The grounders betrayed us.”

Clarke shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s the right thing to do. There’s been enough death, and we can bring them back. Harper, do you have a head count?” Harper nodded. “Good. We need to set up enough beds and restraints in the infirmary. Is it possible?”

“Yes,” Bellamy said, “but—“

“What are you thinking, Clarke?” Abby interrupted. “You can’t even stand. Do you think you are going to be able to bring dozens of reapers through withdrawal from a drug that makes them psychotic and violent by yourself? Because your people certainly don’t have the knowledge to do it.”

“We will figure it out.” Clarke said.

Abby shook her head and breathed out forcefully. “Well. The first thing Camp Jaha will do in our negotiations with your people, Clarke, is provide you with the necessary medical personnel to detox the reapers before they die.” She held up a hand to forestall any argument. “You have the supplies and facilities. We have the personnel and knowledge. We can figure out how to sort out what is given in return later. This needs to be done now.”

Clarke looked at Bellamy and he looked back at her in shock. Kane sat quietly next Abby, but he didn’t disagree once. In fact, he raised his head and smiled, as if he was proud of Abby. But she was not done speaking.

“And my last act as chancellor will be to assign myself to medical detail at Mount Weather to supervise the rehabilitation of the reapers.” She took her chancellors pin and placed it in front of Kane.

“I’m giving this back to you now, Kane. You are the chancellor.”

“No.” He said. “Absolutely not. We need you at Camp Jaha. Your people need you Abby.”

“Mom, what are you doing?”

Abby’s hands fell to the table in front of her, opening like a supplication. “I am not the leader here.” She said. “Do you think I don’t see this? I tried my best to do good with the authority I had and I tried my hardest to keep what I knew was wrong from happening. I think I managed the best I could.”

“Abby…” Kane said, trying to convince her with the one word.

“You,” she looked at Clarke, “are the leader. And you are such a good one. The decisions you’ve made, the way you see so clearly what needs to be done, the way you care for your people? You are so young, so so young,” the tears welled in her eyes, but she didn’t cry, “and you probably don’t feel young, with all that weight on your shoulders, but you are. But despite your youth, you simply are the leader. Like your father.” Clarke felt a tear fall down her own cheek as her mother smiled at her, reaching across the wide table to take her hands and hold them, looking proudly into her eyes for a moment.

She released Clarke’s hands and shifted in her seat to face Bellamy squarely. “And you are the leader.” She shook her head, almost in disbelief. “A really good one. I misjudged you, from the very beginning. You seemed too rash and emotional, too violent. But you aren’t. You are devoted to your people. You would do anything for them.”

Clarke reached over and took ahold of Bellamy’s hand as he sat there silently amazed.

“And your people would follow you anywhere. So strong and so brave. All of you. Sometimes I don’t know how we raised you. The Ark. How did we make children like you who could survive down here and fight back and build something and win?”

“They aren’t children any more, Abby.”

She turned in her chair to face Kane. “No they aren’t. And you saw that a long time ago. You saw what they were doing and you tried to get me to see it too, but I couldn’t. And I couldn’t see how you’d changed either. You aren’t the same man who advocated the culling. You listen and you learn and you adapt.” She reached out and took a hold of Kane’s hand and pulled it into her lap to hold onto it. “The Arkers need to learn how to adapt, Kane. You need to help them. I’m a healer. I’m not a leader. We all need to be in the jobs where we can help our people the most. Take the chancellor pin, and let me be the doctor again.”

He nodded and Abby dropped his hand to reach for the pin. She smiled as she pinned it to his lapel.

“Chancellor,” she said, her voice low and full of emotion.

He smiled at her. Before he took a deep breath and spoke.

“My first act as chancellor will be to reassign you as chief medical officer of Camp Jaha.”

“Marcus!” she cried.

He shook his head. “Sorry Abby. Your people do need you. You are right about the medical detail here, though, so you will help Clarke set up a rehab unit in the mountain and get the grounders started on their treatment while I send a runner back to Camp Jaha, where they will gather whatever medical personnel you think we need and bring them back here for assignment.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t just assign anyone you want to our mountain,” Bellamy spoke up.

Kane raised his hands to ward him off. “Just temporarily. For the medical emergency. You are fully in charge of whoever resides in Mount Weather. Camp Jaha recognizes your autonomy, but Camp Jaha also considers you friends. And friends help friends.”

“It’s settled then,” Clarke said and stood up, leaning on the table for balance. The food made her feel much better but she was still a little shaky on her feet. “Dr Griffin and I will go get the reapers started and Chancellor Kane will send a runner to Camp Jaha for…” she looked at her mom.

“Jackson. He’s ready and he’s been working with the grounder patients in Camp Jaha who are almost done with treatment. He’s seen the whole course of withdrawal.” Then she reeled off four or five other names. At Kane’s request, Harper called in his runner who was given the mission.

“How is anything settled?” Bellamy asked when Clarke and Abby turned to go. “We’ve negotiated almost nothing.”

Clarke smiled at him and cocked her head as if he was being silly. “Well that’s what you and Chancellor Kane will do, Bellamy. Mom and I need Lincoln, but Octavia can speak for any grounder concerns?” She looked at Octavia for confirmation, who nodded in assent. “And we might need Raven to rig up some proper restraints for the patients.”

“On it.” Raven said as she stood. “Wick can tell you about the communications systems we’ve been working on, not only so we can keep in touch with Camp Jaha but also so we can get in touch with the other stations.”

Kane looked up in surprise.

“Monty knows all about the mountain. Not only did he break into the computer systems, but all inventories have gone through him, from food stores to supplies to weapons. He knows what we have, what we need and what can be spared.” Bellamy said. “When we talk about dividing up resources, he’s our man.”

Kane perked up even more.

“You did all this in a couple of days?” Abby asked in amazement.

“Not me,” said Clarke. “I was unconscious. It was them. It was Bellamy.” Bellamy looked down, blushing slightly.

The door curtain opened and Monroe came back in, but this time she was pushing a wheel chair. “Clarke wasn’t looking so good before,” she said, “and then I remembered this.” She looked around the tent with her eyes round. “They have STUFF.”

“I am very impressed with what you kids— your people— have done, Clarke. Let’s get to your patients.”

Clarke held up one delaying finger. “One moment,” she said, and stepped closer to Bellamy, who still sat at the table with his eyes down.

She bent over and whispered into his ear.

“Who else but you, Bellamy?” She heard his slight gasp and smiled. Then walked back to where her mother stood.

“I’m not even going to argue about the chair,” she said, and plopped down into it. “I”m too tired.” She lifted one limp hand and wiggled her fingers at them. “Chancellor. Co leader,” she caught Bellamy’s eyes. The look he gave her made her heart flutter in her chest. She felt her own ears burn with a blush. “Happy negotiating.” She leaned her head back on the rest. “Mom, let’s go heal.”

Chapter Text

The first to come was a slender couple and an old woman with silver hair that hung down to her waist like a waterfall.

Miller poked his head in the meeting tent. “Bellamy, you need to come out here.”

Bellamy wasn’t quite sure how they’d made it eight hours through the wilderness to get there. They were Arkers, used to climate control and protein bars, but they’d shouldered ragged blankets and canteens in their Ark issued back packs and hiked all the way here from Camp Jaha. They were exhausted. The old woman was being supported between the couple.

Bellamy nodded to himself. He should have expected it, but he hadn’t. “Miller, get them some food and water.” Then he ducked back into the tent. “Chancellor Kane,” he said. “We have a situation.”

***

“Ma’am,” Kane was trying to maintain his calm in the face of the elderly lady who glared at him with fire in her eyes, even though they had made her rest in a chair in the meeting tent. “This is entirely too dangerous a trip for you to have made without a guard.”

“Chancellor,” the man said. “My name is Caleb Fox and I was an archivist on the Ark. I’ve read the exodus charter, back to front. You can’t confine us to camp. We have rights.” He spoke much more calmly than his mother did, but his eyes still snapped with fire.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Kane tried to explain. “We’re trying to ensure your safety. There are still grounders out there and we don’t have an alliance with them anymore.”

“We didn’t see one fresh sign of Grounders anywhere.” The old lady snapped. “They’re on the run after what these kids did. Scared as hell, they are.”

“That’s the thing, Ma’am. You wouldn’t be able to see signs of them at all. They are very good at hiding without leaving a trail.” Bellamy tried to reason with her. “Or you could have gotten lost and wandered into one of their encampments.”

“Speaking of…” the woman swiveled her neck to look at Bellamy. “You people charged through the woods like a bunch of mastodons. You left a trail a mile wide. As if I couldn’t follow you oafs. Who do you think taught every single one of you delinquents Elementary Earth Skills?”

Bellamy reared back. “Miss Marla?” He couldn’t reconcile this gritty old spitfire in combat boots with the lady in a cardigan sweater and neat hair bun who taught him about plants and animals and earth lore fifteen years ago. The delinquents used to joke about her pop quizzes on poisonous mushrooms and thank her every time they brought in another bunch of edibles. No one on the Ark got to upper school without passing her class.

“Marla Fox,” she said and raised her chin.

“Fox.” He echoed. And he looked back and forth between them, seeing, now, the resemblance. “Fox.” He ground his teeth together, remembering how Fox had cried out his name and clung to him when he’d come to save her. He couldn’t move. “I couldn’t—“ he started, and then nothing else came out. This throat closed up. He couldn’t speak.

Marla came out of her chair and threw her stringy arms around him. They were surprisingly strong. “You tried,” she said to him, and he wasn’t sure if he heard the emphasis placed on “you.”

It took him a while, but he finally could get the words out. “Fox always knew which berries and plants we could eat and which ones were poisonous. She was in charge of the gathering teams. Except for that time the nuts had gone rancid and become hallucinogenic. But that was not something we learned in Earth Skills.” He had no idea why he said that.

All of a sudden the other woman broke into tears. She whirled on Kane. “It’s your fault!” she cried. “It’s your fault. You wouldn’t send any men to get the kids out. You let them kill my little girl.”

“Donna,” Caleb said as he put his arm around her. “There’s no point.”

Marla let go of Bellamy and stepped up to Kane. “You’re Chancellor again, I hear.” She tilted her head up and peered at him. He nodded. “I hope you make a go of it, but you’re going to have to do it without us. The way we see it, we like the way these kids are doing things. They protect their people, instead of floating them for not stepping in line. Or sending kids down to earth unprepared.” She poked Kane in the chest. “You think I didn’t talk to those kids as soon as they got back to camp? You sent them down in that drop ship without so much as a canteen or a tent. My granddaughter. My kids. I watched those kids grow up and you dumped them.” She shook her head and turned back to Bellamy.

“Bellamy Blake, you did a good job, you and that Clarke Griffin. You made an old woman proud. And jealous. I’ll admit it. I wish I could have been down here with you. I may be old, but I still have a lot of knowledge in my head, knowledge about how to do things on this planet. Plants and animals. How to preserve things, build shelters, farm, survive. You don’t have to scavenge off of what these mountain men left behind or what fell out of the sky with the ark. You can have everything I know how to do, if you don’t mind giving me and my son and daughter in law a room. I’ll teach all your kids how live off of this planet, beyond what you are doing now.”

Caleb stood next to his mother and nodded to Bellamy. “I’m no survivalist,” he said, “But maybe you’re interested in something beyond just surviving. They said that Mount Weather is full of art and artifacts. It was supposed to be a repository of human culture. I don’t know if you even care about that, but I’ll offer my skills as archivist and librarian. I certainly am of no use back at Camp Jaha, but maybe I can help here?”

Caleb nudged Donna. “I—I was a lab assistant on the ark. Mostly in life support, although I worked a bit in chemical engineering and—I don’t care any more. I’ll do whatever you need. Clean the kitchen. Dig latrines. I won’t stay back there at Camp Jaha, with the people that killed my daughter a hundred times over. I want to be with Kira’s people.”

Donna was desperate. He knew what it felt like to be desperate.

He looked at Kane.

Kane shrugged, grim. “It’s not my call. Mr Fox is correct. The Exodus Charter allows citizens to maintain their own self sustaining freeholds. We have no right to force anyone to stay in camp. Not you, not them. But it’s up to you to say who lives in your settlement with your people.”

Bellamy felt stupid all of a sudden.

All this time, he’d just been thinking about his people, the 100, the delinquents. It had been us vs them in so many ways, sure there were additions every once in a while, the first and most notable being Raven, who never had been in the drop ship, and then Lincoln, who started as an enemy. Lincoln had told him what Clarke had said to him when she could have let him die at the hands of the Mountain Men. “You are my people,” she had told him, and how much it had meant to him.

He thought of Clarke, who had risked her life to get the truth of the failing Ark out to the people, to save them somehow. He thought about the culling, which was as much his fault as it was the Ark’s. He thought of the beauty that was the funeral of the falling stars, and Fox who died under the mountain in pain. These people here were as much survivors as any of the 100. The world had ended and they were still here.

For the second time, his words stuck. He cleared his throat and looked at the Fox Family. “You are my people,” he said hoarsely. Marla nodded serenely at him, her head held high. Caleb surprised him by breaking down into wet sobs, as if he’d been holding it in forever. And Donna just let out one, long sigh, as if she could finally breathe.

“Miller,” Bellamy said. Miller came in to the tent. “Please can you get the Foxes set up in an apartment? And then…” he took a deep breath, “show them Fox’s— Kira’s grave.”

Millers face crumpled, but then he nodded his head once, and turned to the Foxes. “Follow me.”

“They won’t be the last,” Bellamy said to Kane.

“No, and it’s something we should all be prepared for,” Kane said. "How do you want to do this?"

Aside from facilities and resources, skill sets and schedules, Bellamy thought about how hard it had been to get The 100 on the same team when they’d first landed, about how he and Clarke had nearly torn each other apart at the beginning before they learned that they each had something to give. And even then, the rest of the delinquents hadn’t just fallen in line. He already knew that anyone with an ounce of rebellion would be making their way to the mountain. How would they manage to assimilate Arkers now. How would they manage to keep them all alive all winter… without killing each other? He imagined a million possible futures, many of them full of violence and death.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to relieve the pressure starting in his head. “I need to talk to Clarke about this.”

“It’s hard being in charge,” Kane said.

Bellamy rolled his eyes at him. “That, we’ve already figured out.”

Chapter Text

23 grounders had made it through the reaper detox and they had just been sent back to their people. The medical team from Camp Jaha had gone home, too. Most of them. Jackson had stayed to head up what he called “The Hospital.” It was kind of a relief not to be the one in charge of keeping everyone healthy. I mean she still had medical duty, but she wasn’t in charge. It was nice that The Hospital was relatively quiet, now, without the grounders and The Arkers, and she didn’t need to be there for the daily sprains and bumps and cuts.

29 grounders had not made it through the reaper detox, and they were buried, un named, in the graveyard set up behind the mountain. Maya was the only one who had been buried at the front gate, where Clarke had put her, and her grave had become a memorial of sorts, to thank the people who had given up their lives to let the Sky People live. They’d set up a small bench and Clarke liked to take her morning tea and sit in the crisp air.

Bellamy, it seemed, did not want them to live surrounded by graves, so it had been his decision to find another site for their graveyards. There was a path, through the woods from Maya’s memorial, to the graveyards. First, you came upon the children’s meadow. It was the most beautiful clearing she’d ever seen, surrounded by straight, white barked trees that whispered in the breeze. All the children of Mount Weather had been laid to rest here, in a circle, like the sun, radiating outward. She liked to stay there and sing lullabies. The music disappeared into the woods and it made her heart glad to be there, on the earth, under the sun, in the trees.

The second grave site didn’t have a name. Or rather. It had two names. Fox and Orson. She stopped in the clearing for a moment, her hands brushing the stone markers that someone had carved, simply, for them. Fox. Orson. There were flowers on both graves. Clarke stayed there only a moment. She didn’t like how large this clearing was, and how empty it was. Waiting.

She quickly moved on down the path to the main cemetery. Rank upon rank of graves. Each one marked by a stone that had been dug out of the ground. She felt like she shouldn’t want to be here, but she found herself ending up here more often than not, looking at the neatly plotted rows, the trees at the edge of the field, and the sky over head. Laying in the graves were the Wallaces, the doctors, the guards who had imprisoned them, along with the people who had taken the blood of Grounders for 50 years, so they could live. This was also where the former reapers had been buried. Murderers, torturers, vampires and cannibals. Villains.

And victims.

They were her victims, and the guilt would live with her until the day she died, but they were also the mountain’s victims. From the reapers who had been tortured and drugged into living weapons, to the mild mannered Mount Weather citizens who dressed in faded finery and listened to chamber music while they were being fortified with stolen blood.

Clarke was a victim, too. And all the Sky People. Just like every person on earth was, living or dead. A victim of their ancestor’s decisions. A victim of nuclear war. A victim of this radiation soaked, dangerous planet.

Clarke stood there and thought about what it meant to be a victim, and what it might take to become the kind of people who could make choices and take actions and not be the victim of every terror that crossed their paths.

“I don’t know the grounders.”

Clarke jumped. Harper was standing right next to her. She hadn’t heard her come up.

“What?” Clarke said, too snappish for what Harper deserved.

“I know all the Mountain Men. I know their names. I know their faces. I know their families and their jobs.”

Clarke cocked her head. “How do you know that?”

“When we first got here, I was still too weak to do any of the heavy lifting. So I volunteered to keep track of all the bodies, their names, so we could put them on the graves. They all had IDs on their key cards, so it wasn’t that hard. But it wasn’t enough.”

Harper was looking out over the cemetery with a look on her face that Clarke had a feeling was similar to her own. So instead of answering, she just stood next to Harper, and they both gazed out, lost in their own thoughts. Together.

“Jasper plotted out the graves so each person had their own space on the earth for peace.”

Clarke jumped again when she spoke out of nowhere. When had the girl gotten so silent?

“And Monty helped me break into the files, so I could find out who they were. I kind of couldn’t help reading it all. They monitored everything down here. Medical files. Genetic history. Aptitude tests. Infractions. Commendations. Production outputs. Library reading lists. Those files kind of reminded me of life on The Ark. They weren’t so different from us.”

Clarke gave her a disbelieving look.

“Yeah, I know. But in a hundred years, how many people in The Ark were killed so that the rest of us could live? How much blood do we as a people have on our hands? Fine, floating is bloodless, but it’s death all the same.”

Clarke nodded. “You’re right. We’re the same.”

“No. We’re not the same.” Clarke thought she would say more. She kind of wanted her to say more, to say how they weren’t the same as the blood sucking Mountain Men. But Harper fell into silence again. Harper had always been a brave girl, strong and determined, but she didn’t remember her being so thoughtful.

Clarke studied her profile for a bit, and then turned back to the graves again.

“I was almost one of them.”

This time Clarke didn’t jump. She had been waiting for Harper to speak. Harper needed to talk, she realized.

“That’s why I did it. Why I volunteered to document all their names. Why I read all their files. I wanted to know them, to understand them. Because I was almost lying back there with Fox and Orson. They drilled me almost dry.” She lifted a hand and pointed at a grave. “My DNA is there, in that grave.” She shifted her hand and pointed at another. “And there.” She pointed at three more graves. Then she looked at Clarke again. Her eyes were gray green and serious. Clarke shivered.

“Do you want to know why we’re not the same?”

Clarke nodded, her throat too dry to say yes.

Harper’s eyes bored into Clarkes. “Because if you hadn’t pulled that lever, there would have been no graves for us.”

Clarke had not expected that answer and it confused her for a minute. Then she remembered Fox’s body, discarded in the bin, in the catacombs, waiting to be taken by the reapers. For food. A wave of dizziness came over her.

Harper, still holding her gaze, nodded once, gravely, and turned to walk away.

Clarke was still trying to catch her breath when Harper turned back.

“I’m sorry,” she said, exasperated. “I”m not very focused lately. I almost forgot. We’ve been looking for you for a couple of hours. I came up here because, well, I come up here sometimes, and I realized that maybe you might, too.”

“What is it?” Clarke sighed. Prepared for the worst.

“The grounders are here.” Clarke had a moment of panic, when Harper held out her hand to ward off her fear. “At first we thought they were attacking, but they’re not. They want to join us.”

Chapter Text

Even before she broke through the woods to the clearing in front of Mount Weather, Clarke could tell there was a lot of excitement. The bonfires were all blazing in the chilly afternoon air, and Clarke could hear a buzz of conversation, with laughter floating through it every so often. Her heart beat rapidly in fear. Why laughter should be the thing that scared her, she didn’t know.

“There’s over a hundred grounders,” Harper said. “And not all of them are warriors. There are children with them, and mothers, and old people.”

She blinked at Harper in shock. “Children?” She remembered Tris, Anya’s second, who had died from battle wounds.

“Babies,” Harper added. Clarke couldn’t recall ever seeing any grounder babies. “And goats.”

“Goats?”

Harper nodded. “And carts. And horses. And dogs. They brought their whole village.”

She took a deep breath before stepping out of the trees. She was half way down the path to the encampment before anyone noticed her.

“Clarke,” she heard her name. It echoed through the crowd. “Clarke. Clarke.” There were so many people. It seemed the whole clearing was filled. And right now, they were all saying her name.

The conversations stilled and everyone turned to watch her come down the path. Delinquents, Arkers, Grounders, they all turned and looked at her. “Wanheda,” someone said into the silence.

Her steps faltered on the path.

Bellamy pushed through the crowd and came to stand in front of her. He tilted his head down and spoke quietly. His voice was tense with anxiety. “We couldn’t find you.”

“What’s going on?” She scanned the crowd. So many people she didn’t know. What were their motivations? What did they want? It made her nervous to have all her people milling about, outside of safe walls, among people she didn’t know.

“Where were you?”

Surprised, she looked back at him. He wasn’t anxious about the grounders. He was anxious about where she’d been.

“I didn’t run off, Bellamy,” she snapped. “I was at the graveyard.”

He stepped back. Shook his head as if he was trying to argue with himself. “Right,” he said. “You need…” his chest expanded with breath. He let it out. “Right. The grounders.” He looked back at the people silent and waiting. Watching. He squared his shoulders. “They want to join us. Villagers from what’s left of TonDC. Some of the Grounders from the harvest chambers.” He paused. “Some of the former reapers.”

Her eyes flew to his in alarm.

“They aren’t integrating back into the grounders very well.”

“That’s scary.”

“Clarke,” he said. “We might need scary. I’ve been talking to Echo, she has told me some more about some of the other clans out there.”

“Who’s Echo?”

“She was with me in the harvest chamber. She saved me, saved the plan. We owe our lives to her.”

She didn’t like the idea of owing anything to grounders right now. “We saved her.” She didn’t like the way he spoke about her. “The grounders betrayed us.” It came out like a growl.

He took another step back. “Lexa betrayed us.” He looked at her closely. “Lexa betrayed you.”

Clarke pressed her lips together. She could feel her nostrils flaring. She hadn’t thought about Lexa. She had distinctly not thought about her at all. It wasn’t like she didn’t have other things to deal with.

He was still watching her. She pushed thoughts of Lexa down. “So?”

“These grounders feel that Lexa dishonored them for making a deal with the Mountain Men. They blame her for what happened at TonDC. They want to follow you.”

“Me?”

He paused for long moments, staring at her, as if he were trying to read her. Then he sighed heavily. “They call you ‘Wanheda’. It means ‘Commander of Death.’”

Clarke could feel the blood draining from her face.

Bellamy waited again, for her head to stop rushing. He knew her so well. He knew how this must be affecting her.

“Come into the command tent, Clarke. Meet with them.”

She remembered the last time she was in a command tent with the grounders. She remembered how it ended.

“Nyko is here.”

“Nyko?” He had always been fair and compassionate.

“He speaks for the TonDC refugees. Lincoln told him how you refused to let him be killed by the sniper, how you called him your people. They want to be your people. They’ve left their village and their lands. They’ve denounced Lexa. If we don’t take them, they will have to go to the Dead Zone.”

Clarke’s shoulders drooped. She couldn’t send children to The Dead Zone. Not if she could take them in.

“You trust them?” Clarke looked at Bellamy. “You think we should do this?”

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “We’re in a position of power right now. We don’t need them to survive. We have the mountain, the weapons, the land. We can survive the winter. We can fight off any enemies. This is a self sustaining fortress.”

“But?”

“But do we want to hole up in the mountain? Shut the gates and keep ourselves apart from the rest of the world? Keep our technology from them? Stay separate? Or do we want to be a part of this planet, people of Earth?”

She didn’t even need to answer him.

“How do we do this?”

“We meet with the representatives. Nyko, Echo for the survivors of the harvest chamber, and they’ve asked Lincoln to speak for the reaper survivors.”

“He agreed to this? He thinks this can work?” In some ways, Lincoln was the most cautious of them all. And the least trusting of other grounders.

“He thinks we need warriors.” Bellamy looked at her significantly.

“He thinks we’re vulnerable to attack.”

Bellamy nodded. “He says now that The Mountain Men have fallen, there will be those who want to take the land. He says the Ice Clan has always pushed at their boundaries.”

“Will we ever be able to stop fighting?” She asked him. It felt to her like a plea.

“The grounders also bring livestock. Knowledge of the land and cultivation. They have craftspeople.”

“They have babies,” Clarke said. The thought of babies seemed like a fairy tale. How could this hard life also have babies?

Bellamy was watching her closely. “Maybe there’s something else besides fighting here. Maybe we let them in.”

Clarke looked over his shoulder at the crowd of people. The tension was palpable. She could hear the low murmur of conversation while they waited and watched. “I’m frightened,” she said to him quietly.

For a moment, she thought that he was going to take her in his arms, but when she looked at him, his back was straight and his fists were held tightly at his side. He stared off into the woods.

“I think,” he said, slowly, hesitantly. “I think it’s worth the risk.”

She didn’t speak. Remembering. His chest rose and fell with his breathing. Remembering also.

“We let them live on our territory.” Bellamy said, still gazing off into the woods. “We share knowledge. We learn from each other. We follow the laws we set down. We’ve already made a start on our freehold charter when we took in the Arkers. With a little work, we can adjust it to encompass what we need from the grounders. Every citizen of Mount Weather needs to agree to live by our charter— what is it?”

Bellamy had caught her wince. “I don’t want to call it Mount Weather. Mount Weather did horrible things.”

He looked at her in surprise. “What do you want to call it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

He laughed, just a little. “Okay,” he said. A smile in his voice. Her heart swelled. “We can figure that out. We’ll put it in the charter.”

She nodded and smiled back at him.

“The grounders will have to agree to the charter and I think it’s best, because it’s something they understand, if they also swear fealty to you—”

“To us,” she interrupted. “I can’t do this alone.”

“You don’t have to, Clarke.”

Clarke wanted to close the distance between them, to hold his hand or have him put his arms around her, but she was aware of the hundreds of eyes that were watching them. And she was aware of the weight of today, of the past, of the future bearing down on them.

“This isn’t a battle, Princess. No one is about to die. Not today. This is about living. Are you ready?”

Her eyes went wide at his question. “Ready?”

“Ready to lead again.”

“Together?” she asked.

He smiled. “Together.”

She took a deep breath and then huffed it out. She nodded at him. “Okay.”

She walked toward the gathered people. He was just a step behind her.

Chapter Text

Bellamy was not on watch. Tonight, that was not his job.

It made him almost giddy. He sat on an upholstered couch that someone had carried up from the common room, and set in front of the main bonfire. The delinquents called him “King Bellamy” and said it was the throne for the co leaders. He tried to tell them they were crazy and he would stand guard so the rest could celebrate, but Lincoln stepped in, surprisingly.

“No. You need to let other people guard, now. Your people need to know that you lead, that you stand at the head. Let them come to you. They will give you offerings, petition for the right to join your people and live on your lands. You will hear them out and welcome them or send them away.”

He looked out and was surprised at the view from his couch. He hadn’t even noticed that it had been placed on higher ground. He could see the whole meadow from here, the better part of the 232 people, gathering, talking, eyeing each other suspiciously over bonfires. The children, from sky and ground, who showed no such reticence with each other and were chasing each other through the crowd as they sky over head turned orange and purple.

People were still milling, but there were many bonfires, and he knew that as it got later, they would settle down to feast. He could see the tables, laden with fruits and vegetables from both field and hydroponic tanks. Someone had brought down a boar and it was spit roasting over an open fire. Clarke had even instructed the kitchen to bake piles of cookies and cakes. He had never seen so much food in his life.

“Yeah, big brother,” Octavia smirked at Lincoln’s side. She didn’t wear the war paint anymore, but she’d kept the braids, and the leathers. She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “How does it feel to be king?” She looked at him like she really thought he was king. He squirmed in his cushy seat.

Again with that. “As if we might not all be dead tomorrow.”

“Ha. Not with Lincoln and I on watch.”

“I put Miller in charge of the guard tonight. Why aren’t you celebrating?”

“Because we’re on watch, Bell. “ She looked at him with the same bratty expression she always had. “This is our mountain. We take care of it. You didn’t actually think that without you holding the gun, we’d just hang out and drink moonshine, did you?”

Bellamy looked around the gathering and noticed for the first time that all the guards were one of the Delinquents. They stood at their posts, calmly, securely. They were vigilant.

“No Arkers on guard? No grounders?”

“Not tonight.” Octavia said.

“They must earn our trust,” Lincoln said, in his quiet voice.

Bellamy looked at Lincoln, he remembered the fierce, frightening warrior who had first kidnapped Octavia, who had hung in the drop ship, tortured. He shook his head at how far they had come.

“And if they don’t?”

“Then they don’t,” Lincoln said, ominously.

“Some of the Arkers are nervous about the agreements not being finalized and written down.”

Lincoln gave him a look. Grounders didn’t read or write.“Those Arkers should share the ceremonial wine with the clan people, or they will never accept them.”

“Well right now, there’s plenty of ceremonial wine being shared,” Octavia said. And she was right. A burly grounder was carrying around a small cask, pouring glasses for everyone he met, grounder and sky person alike. He heard laughter. Conversation.

“This is good,” Bellamy said. Almost surprised. “They’ve all been through hell. They deserve to relax and enjoy something good.”

“That is life on the ground,” Lincoln said.

“Where’s Clarke?” Octavia asked. There was always a tightness around Octavia’s eyes when she spoke of Clarke. “I haven’t seen her. Isn’t she supposed to be here with you, being royal?”

“She took Nyko to The Hospital, to speak with Jackson. A healer’s meeting. She might have gotten caught up in something. She was supposed to be back already.”

“Hmm,” she said and got up from the edge of the sofa. “Maybe I’ll send someone to fetch her.”

“She’s a big girl, O. You have to trust her.”

“She’s supposed to be here.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere? Like on watch?”

“I am watching. This is a great spot to observe everyone and make sure no one’s getting out of hand. Right Lincoln? “ Lincoln smiled fondly at her, and then his eyes went back to the crowd. At least Lincoln took security seriously.

“The sun is going down,” Lincoln said. “We should begin our rounds, Octavia. Let Bellamy receive petitions from his people.”

“Petitions.” Bellamy needed to learn more about grounder culture and fast. “This is part of the job, isn’t it? I’m not here to relax.”

Lincoln shrugged and put a hand to the small of Octavia’s back, urging her away from the bonfire. Echo stepped into the light, and Bellamy nodded to her. Bellamy swore he heard Octavia say something else about trust, before Lincoln led her away.

“Echo,” Bellamy said. “How are you?”

“Belomi com Skaikru. May I join you? I brought you an offering.” She held up a glass bottle, then set it before him on the table. “I was hoping we could talk alone.” She was tall, dressed in leathers, like all the others, but somehow she wore them differently.

He remembered the last time they spoke. She had tried to thank him, and he told her there would be time for it later, when both their people were free. Well here they were, but none of it had shaken out like they could have foreseen.

“Sit.” He said. And she did.

“I owe you a debt,” she said.

They both knew what she meant.

“You owe me nothing. Without your help, I would have died. We all would have died.”

Echo looked down into her lap. Her fist opened and closed. “Lexa dishonored us all when she made a deal with the Mountain, when she betrayed your alliance and had us crawl away like whipped dogs before the master.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said.

“The dishonor stains us all.” She looked up at him finally and took a deep breath, sitting tall and straight next to him. Her direct gaze capturing his. “I could have gone back to the Ice Nation. The others did. But I owe you a debt. You, Belomi com Skaikru. I looked you in the eye and promised to join your fight. And then I fled.”

He shook his head.

“They tell me you sleep alone.”

The change of topic nearly made him choke.

“A warrior king should not sleep alone,” Echo said and put her hand on his chest. “I would be the woman to warm your bed.”

“Uhm, Echo. You don’t owe me a debt, and if you did I wouldn’t ask you to repay it like this.” He knew the grounders were not shy and they dealt with sex more directly than they did on the Ark, but even so, he had not expected a proposition this bold.

“I do owe you,” she said, “but even if I didn’t, I would offer myself to you anyway. You are brave, and strong and handsome. You are a worthy mate. You would father strong children.”

Bellamy couldn’t speak. “Echo, I—“

He broke off when she leapt up from the couch, leaving a cold spot above his heart, where her hand had been.

“Wanheda,” she said, and looked off past him.

There was Clarke. Just outside of the ring of firelight in the fading twilight.

For the first time, Echo looked shaken. “I was offering—“

“I heard,” Clarke cut her off. “I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

Echo looked back and forth between Clarke and Bellamy. “They said he slept alone. If I had known that you had a prior claim, Wanheda, I wouldn’t have—“

“I don’t,” Clarke snapped. “If you want to warm his bed, that’s something you’ll have to discuss with him.”

Echo stood straight. She looked at Clarke and then at Bellamy. “This is not the right time or place.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows and he could almost hear her say “you think?” although the words never left her lips. She smiled tightly at Echo.

Echo bowed her head slightly and started to turn away.

“I will talk to you later, Echo,” Bellamy said.

Clarke’s eyes shot to his face.

“I look forward to it, Belomi com Skaikru,” she said and walked away into the darkening shadows.

There was a moment when neither Clarke nor Bellamy moved. Then Clarke let out her held breath and moved briskly to sit down next to him.

She smiled as she noticed the bottle of wine in front of Bellamy. “Wine. She brought you wine.” She snorted once in mirth. “I knew I was supposed to be here so the clan people could petition us as their new leaders, but I didn’t think—“ she nodded instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clarke…” Bellamy said, although he had no idea where the rest of his sentence was supposed to go.

“When Octavia called me to tell me I needed to see you about some predators, she wasn’t talking about animals.” Clarke started laughing.

He stared at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. He was feeling kind of crazy right now himself. He reached for the wine and pulled open the cork. “I think we need a drink,” he said and poured two cups.

“We’re supposed to be working,” she said, laughter gone.

“It’s ceremonial wine. We drink it to cement our union as one people.”

“Oh well in that case.” She took the cup from him and he noticed she most definitely did not touch him when she took it.

A small family began to make their way to the bonfire where Clarke and Bellamy sat. “Our first petitioners,” Bellamy said, nodding at them.

“Second.” Clarke answered. He shot her a look. She caught it and gave it back to him. “I thought Octavia hated me.”

“Yeah, well, she hates me a lot, too. That one might have been directed at me, actually.” He said, but before she had the time to question him about what that meant, the way he knew she was dying to, the young family reached the fire light.

In the end, they had to enlist the help of Caleb Fox, calling him up from the archives where he’d been hiding from the grounders, so that he could document all the new residents of the mountain.

The night stretched on, between feasting and petitions, music, and offerings, Clarke and Bellamy had little time to do more than exchange significant glances. He sat on his side of the couch and she sat on hers. And the tension between them only thickened, despite the many ceremonial sips of wine shared with their people.

He thought the night would never end.

Chapter Text

Bellamy was not nearly drunk enough. This ceremonial wine might has well have been fruit juice. It was certainly no where near as potent as the moonshine he was used to drinking. When first watch was over and Lincoln and Octavia came to join them at the central bonfire, Bellamy pointed out the weaknesses of grounder wine.

“Of course. It’s ceremonial. The real wine is over there, with the ale and shine.” He pointed to a crowd on the opposite end of the clearing.

“What? Someone could have gotten us a drink,” he said.

“You are working, remember?” Octavia teased, sipping on something amber colored. “We are done working. This is really good.”

But first watch was over a long time ago. Octavia and Lincoln had retreated to to their quarters. The feast was dying down. Caleb Fox has been sent back down into the mountain half an hour ago, with assurances that they could handle any more documentation for the night. But no one had petitioned them or begged a favor of them or given them an offering for the last twenty minutes. It seemed most of the revelers were turning in.

Not that anyone had really done all that much reveling. Those that were left were quiet, sitting around bonfires, talking. It had been a subdued party, with too many people who had too many concerns weighing on them. Some of the delinquents were still on guard, strolling the meadow with their guns at the ready, but no anxiety in their step. Some of the delinquents were quietly sitting around other campfires chatting.

The main bonfire had been too busy, too serious for anyone to relax with them tonight. They really had been working, and now, rather than go spend time with their friends, Bellamy just wanted the night to be over.

He stretched out his neck and heard a crack. The tension of sitting next to Clarke all night was getting to him. She was staring off into the shadows. Still as a statue. He could hardly see her chest moving with her breath.

She had been silent for the last 15 minutes. To be honest, she hadn’t spoken of anything except for camp business since the joke about predators, hours before. He knew she needed space, and he was trying, he was, to give her as much space as she could, but sometimes, it just got damn awkward. She confused him in every way a woman could confuse a man. And she made his heart hurt.

He leaned back on the couch and stretched his arms along the back. She sat so far away from him that there wasn’t even a risk of him brushing her shoulder. He sighed. “Do you think our people are done with the petitioning, because this has been one hell of a long night, and I’d kind of love to just go to bed.”

She whirled on him so fast that he drew back in reaction.

“It wasn’t worth it.” She leaned forward towards him, her hands planted on the cushion between them. Her eyes bored into his. “It was never worth the risk.”

His hand fell from the sofa back to rest on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Clarke. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure out how to work with all the new people. It’s a risk, but not the worst one we’ve ever taken.”

Her head fell to one side as she looked at him, as if he were speaking a foreign language. She closed her eyes for one second, and then when she opened them, she slid closer on the couch, until her knee was touching his. She put her hand on his thigh.

“Bellamy, I need to be clear about something. Sending you into the Mountain was not worth the risk.”

He wasn’t sure if his heart was still beating. “It had to be done—“

“Bellamy. Listen to me. I was wrong to do it. I didn’t even know how wrong I was until I heard your voice on the radio and knew I hadn’t lost you. “

“That’s right, you didn’t lose me. We got our friends back and we won.”

Clarke looked like she was about to cry. He couldn’t help himself. He raised his hand and brushed her golden hair back.

“I was always going into the mountain, Clarke, with your permission or without it.”

“Stop absolving me! I’m trying to tell you something!” She snapped at him. It made his lips quirk upward into a smile he tried to hide.

“Okay. I’m sorry. But I already know you regret sending me into Mount Weather. And I already know that it had to be done, and no amount of you regretting it will change that.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Okay, now let’s pretend that I am trying to tell you something else, and you are going to let me get it out.”

He stopped trying to hide his smile and crossed his arms over his chest. He leaned back again. Even though she was frustrating him all to hell, he still was just happy to be with her. “Okay, princess. Tell me.”

She nodded. Looking serious. “After Finn d— after I killed Finn, I wasn’t in a good place. I was sad and scared, worried, grief stricken, guilt ridden and so confused.”

“I know,” he said. She glared at him. “Sorry.”

“And one of the things I was confused about was you.”

He wanted to ask, but he held his tongue.

“Then I talked with Lexa and she told me about how she recovered after her love was killed.”

He most specifically did not speak.

“She said that she regained her strength by removing all love from her life, because love was a weakness.”

The smirk that he’d been trying to restrain disappeared. He had replayed that conversation in his head a thousand times, trying to figure out how she had gone from I can’t lose you too, to It’s worth the risk.

“I wanted to be strong, like her.” Clarke said.

What changed? He had asked her and she had said, I was being weak.

“Love is a weakness,” he repeated.

Her eyelids fluttered and she looked down at her hands.

“Lexa told you that love was a weakness so you sent me into the mountain to die.”

“No. I knew you would do it. I knew it. Lexa didn’t believe, but I knew. I know you, Bellamy.”

An anger burned in his gut. “This is the woman who tried to get into your pants.”

“How did you know that?”

“Grounders gossip like old women. And Octavia tells me everything. How could you trust her like that, Clarke?”

“I was wrong. It would have wrecked me if I you had died in this mountain. The thought of losing you… I couldn’t bear it. Not having you, not being able to talk to you, argue with you, have you tell me I was an idiot… We did all this together. Without you… I can’t do it, and that scared me. It felt like weakness.”

He shook his head to himself. Sometimes he forgot how young she was. She was so strong and capable it was easy to do that. But this whole running away and love is a weakness business reminded him. She was still figuring herself out and she needed time to do that. “You can do it, Clarke. You did it. Even if you did lose me, you could do it.”

Her face fell as the words left his mouth. As if she couldn’t believe he was saying them. He wondered what she was actually hearing because he couldn’t see the cause for her reaction.

Then she jumped on him. She straddled his lap and pinned him to the couch. She leaned forward with her hands behind him. He wasn’t sure if the meadow had actually gone silent or if the rushing in his head drowned out all the noise.

She was breathing as if she was in battle.

“Clarke—“ he started.

“Don’t—“ she interrupted. Her eyes captured his. They were dark and full of shadows. “Don’t go to Echo’s bed, Bellamy. Come to mine.”

He could feel her body where it pressed up against his. It stirred something within him. She stirred something. His hands fell to her hips. He wanted her so badly.

“Why?” he whispered hoarsely.

She blinked. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” Her hand came down to his chest, and trailed down it. The breath he was holding came out, shakily. He stopped her hand with his own. The bonfire snapped behind her. She was all in shadows.

“If you want this because you’re jealous of Echo, or because you’re afraid of losing me, I don’t want it. If you’re doing it out of guilt or grief. It’s not enough. You’re dancing around it, Clarke. Tell me why you want me.”

“I need you,” her voice was sultry and low and god he wanted her.

“That’s not enough,” he said back, gritting his teeth to keep from kissing her. “Say it.”

She froze. They sat there, connected, her hand over his heart where he held it, her body pressing into his in the most distracting way. He waited for her. He couldn’t see the expression in her eyes in the flickering shadows, so he listened. There was nothing but crackling fires to be heard. Yes. The entire camp was silent and watching. And she said nothing.

That was when he realized. He wanted it all, and she wasn’t able to give it to him. Not now. And the whole camp would be witness to it. He looked down, looked away from her, looked for some way out.

“This is—“ he started, shaking his head, ready to end it.

And then she leaned up against him, soft breasts pressed up against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck and her breath warm on his ear.

“I love you,” she whispered, that close.

His eyes closed and his arms came up around her, holding her. He breathed in her scent and felt her body against his and just existed in the moment.

“Bellamy…” her voice said again in his ear, making him shiver. “I love you. You’re—“

“You don’t need to say anymore,” he whispered back. He pulled her back so he could see her. She was still in shadows but she was watching him in the firelight and whatever she saw made her smile. She cupped his face in her hands.

“Bellamy…” she said and it was like a song. Her lips touched his and it was like flight. They kissed and the world disappeared.

He pulled away from her lips, finally. “Come to my bed,” he growled in her ear.

“That’s not enough,” she purred back. “Say it.”

“Oh, princess,” he breathed, “I love you. Was there ever any doubt?”

“I didn’t know,” she said quietly, like an apology. She ran her hands through his hair and it felt so good to have her hands on him. He wanted her hands on him.

“Do you know now?”

She nodded. “Take me to your bed, Bellamy.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just stood up from the couch with her in his arms, and carried her into the mountain.

“Yay!” a voice from the campfires said, followed by a rushed, “Shh!”

Then the door closed and they didn’t much care what happened with anyone else for a while.

Chapter Text

It was a few days later when Bellamy came down to the Hospital and dragged her off of her shift. Jackson simply nodded and watched them go with a smile.

“It’s time for dinner, Clarke.” Bellamy said with a smile that melted her insides and made her eyes flutter. She had a flash of him smiling at her like that before he slid down her naked body. She shook the memory free. And kept her hands to herself. There were cameras in the elevator… which was passing level 5.

She turned to Bellamy, puzzled. “Why aren’t we eating in the common room?”

“Because you need to get out of the mountain. You’ve been in the Hospital all day for almost a week.”

“Because Jackson and I have been working on something. You know how the grounders have been dealing with genetic mutations? Well, Jackson has been studying for years about genetic engineering and has had a hand in the radiation resistance projects which gave my mom the idea that we could survive on earth in the first place, you know? So we were thinking that maybe we might be able to work on some DNA coding that would be able to manipulate the embryo in the womb…” She stopped talking when she realized he was smiling broadly at her.

“Am I babbling?”

He shook his head. “No. I like to see you excited like this. It’s good. But you’ve been working non stop since the feast, and Jackson agrees that you need to take a break.”

“Well,” she said and looked at him through her eyelashes. “Not non stop.” Screw the cameras. She pressed him back against the elevator wall and started kissing that spot behind his ear that she had discovered made him pant.

He laughed throatily. “Clarke,” he said. While she distracted him with kisses, her hand took a detour down his body. “Clarke, god,” he pulled her off of him and held her at arm’s length. “You’re killing me. I never thought you’d be like this.”

She took his hand and kissed it. “Like what?” she asked, as she sucked his pointer finger into her mouth.

It was his turn to push her against the wall of the elevator, “This passionate,” he said huskily and then devoured her lips with his.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open on the top level. They pulled apart, only millimeters separating their lips, panting. “I never thought I’d be like this either. It was never like this with Finn.”

Bellamy huffed and stepped back, putting an arm out to hold the elevator door before it shut again. He raked one hand through his hair, tousling in a way that made her want to kiss him again. But then, everything made her want to kiss him.

She sighed and stepped out of the elevator. “Did you hate Finn that much?”

“No, I didn’t hate him.”

She gave him a disbelieving look.

“I didn’t. I thought he was silly and reckless.”

“You were reckless, Mr Whatever-the-hell-we-want.”

“No, Princess. I was never reckless. I had a plan, from the very beginning.” Clarke rolled her eyes. And he laughed and swept her up in his arms. “Okay, it was a really bad plan, but it was plan.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You hated him.”

“I wanted to hate him. I’ll admit I was jealous. Couldn’t admit it then. I didn’t understand why you liked such a kid.”

“We were all kids, Bellamy.” Her smile died as she looked up at him. “Except for you. Were you ever a kid?”

She ran her hands through his hair as he looked down at her. “Finn makes me sad,” he admitted. “I should have been able to stop him. I knew he was unstable. I let him go off with Murphy.”

“Murphy,” she snorted.

“It wasn’t Murphy’s fault.”

“If Murphy couldn’t stop him, what makes you think that you could have?”

“The same thing that makes you think you could have found a way to keep all of our people and all of the mountain people alive and the alliance with grounders intact.”

“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” Clarke said, and leaned her head on his chest. Listening to his heart beating, because she could.

“Hey! Blake!” Raven’s shadow darkened the entrance to the hall. “You’re supposed to bring her out to us. We’re waiting.”

“What?” Clarke stood up and turned to look at Raven.

“We’re holding you your own feast, Griffin. Since you and Blake missed the last one, being all royal and shit.”

Clarke looked at Bellamy who grinned and shrugged. “They set it up. All I had to do was get you here.”

“Stop hogging the princess, Blake.” Raven came up and linked her arm through Clarke’s. “It figures you’d be the type of girl who disappears as soon as she gets a boyfriend.”

“That’s not fair… I’ve been working on DNA sequencing—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Save it for the delinquents.” Raven led her out into the light of the fading day and Clarke gasped.

“Oh my god!” she said. “It’s so beautiful.” The air was as warm and as soft as a whisper, and from their spot in the clearing, she could see the rolling hills, covered in yellows and golds and reds and browns. The sun lit up the sky with a gentle glow. Pink clouds floated lazily above. “What happened to winter?”

“They call this an indian summer, and we were told we had better enjoy it, because it won’t last. Thus, an outdoor feast with your best buds.” Raven walked her to the main bonfire, which was only a small fire right now, more for festivity sake than for warmth. Bellamy came to stand next to her as the delinquents looked up to see them arrive.

“All hail the King and Queen,” Miller called out, holding up a cup of something in a toast.

“Don’t call us that,” Bellamy said. His voice disapproving.

“All hail the Chancellors!” Miller tried again.

“No.” Clarke said.

“Commander duo? Co-Presidential highnesses?” Clarke began to wonder how many of those cups he’d had.

“Seriously?” Bellamy said.

“You know what the children are calling you in the Clan village?” Octavia asked, with a sly look. She had been spending a lot of time down there, serving as liaison between the Arker tech crews and the Grounder builders and farmers. “They call you Nomon Clarke and Nontu Belomi.”

“Wazzat?” Miller slurred as he leaned over Monty.

“It’s from the old times when a clan was run by a mother and a father. Nomon means number one, the mother. And Nontu means number two, the father.”

“I like it!” Miller said. “All hail Nomon and Nontu!”

“Someone take his cup from him,” Clarke said as she sat down. Back on her couch. Bellamy sat down next to her and put his arm around her. She smiled and leaned into him, tingling from head to toe.

“Nope,” Jasper said. “Sorry, Clarke. Miller’s found it. Nomon and Nontu. Mom and Dad. Just like old times.” Jasper leaned over Monty, falling just a bit, and held his hand up in the air for a high five, from Miller. Miller held up his hand too, and they both high fived themselves.

“All hail Nomon and Nontu!” they said together, with Monty between them, smiling.

Clarke dug her fingers into Bellamy’s leg. “When did Jasper forgive Monty?” she whispered loudly.

Raven leaned her elbow on the sofa. “Your boyfriend here made them sit down and hash it out. Harper was the mediator.”

“Harper?” The girl was on the other side of Jasper, her own smile curving her lips.

“They would both talk to her.” Bellamy said. “And she could see both sides. It made sense.”

She hugged Bellamy around the waist. “Your plans have gotten better since you came to Earth. You made a good choice. She’s a wise girl.”

“I’m glad you approve, Princess.” She remembered how once upon a time it would make her furious when he called her princess, and now it set up a flurry of incandescent butterflies in her stomach.

“Here you go, Clarke.” Monroe handed her a glass that was so delicate she was afraid to take it. The glass was as thin and shining as a soap bubble and sat on top of a slender stem. Inside was a dark red liquid that nearly glowed in the sunset.

“What is this?”

“They said you never got to try any of the grounder wine, only that sweet stuff they use for ceremonies. I made sure to hold some back for you. And some of the Ale, too. I think their shine isn’t any better than Monty’s moonshine, but I have some of that if you want, too.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Monroe.”

“This party was her idea, Clarke.”

“You did this?”

“I don’t want to be a warrior, Clarke. I’m not brave.”

“Okay,” Clarke said, “I think we can do that. You’re good at this. Whatever this is.” She took a sip of her wine. Her eyes went wide as she tasted it. “Wow. I like it. It tastes like blackberries, but it’s not sweet.” She held it out to Bellamy to taste and took a sip, holding her gaze as he did. She watched as his eyebrows went up in surprise.

“Definitely better than the ceremonial stuff.” He looked over to the group. “Hey Monty, you think you could make something like this?” He handed Clarke her glass back, and Monroe gave him his own glass. He nodded his thanks.

“In theory,” Monty said. “I could learn. Something like this would take a lot of experimenting, growing the right fruit, aging in barrels. Takes a lot of time. Not good if you’re running around fighting for your life the whole time.”

They looked at each other, the delinquents, over the crackling fire as the sun lit up the sky with reds and oranges.

“I think maybe,” Clarke finally said, slowly. The delinquents all turned to look at her. “We can actually have a life here. I think this mountain means we can live, instead of fighting.”

Bellamy raised his glass and toasted, “To life.” The delinquents all raised their cups.

“To life,” they said.

Clarke had a hard time swallowing around the lump in her throat and the rest of the group seemed to be lost in thought, too. The sky faded to purple.

“Vie is French for “life,” Harper spoke.

“What?” Clarke asked.

Harper sat up straight and shook her head, as if she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “Sorry. I just— it’s something I read. Maya and her father. Their last name means life in French. Vie.” She looked over at Jasper who was blinking at her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

Clarke thought that Jasper was either going to yell or cry.

Bellamy cleared his throat huskily. “Mount Vie,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “That’s what we should call the mountain. Mount Vie.”

Clarke looked over at Jasper. His eyes glistened. He stood and raised his cup into the air. “Mount Vie.”

They all stood. Clarke took Bellamy’s hand and squeezed it, so grateful that this was the man at her side. “Mount Vie,” they toasted, cups into the air.

They drank.

Chapter Text

The moon was bright over head, and the bonfire crackled warmly. It was a night to celebrate being alive and safe, if only for the moment. They knew that the perimeter was guarded by fierce grounders and that David Miller was in command monitoring the borders remotely. They knew that there were tribes out there who would fight them for the mountain’s territory, but for tonight, they enjoyed the mild night and the chance to be together.

A table was set up, off to the side, laden with whatever they wanted to eat. A savory bean and vegetable stew, fresh bread, lemon bars with fruit from the hydroponic gardens, venison brought in by grounders. It was a bounty that was almost unimaginable for the kids who had grown up in space, with diet restrictions and protein meals, and who had to scrabble through the earth and fight animals for each calorie they’d eaten once they’d made landfall. And here it all was, spoils of a hard won battle, and all theirs, for the taking.

The delinquents ate until they were stuffed, and then they lounged about the bonfire, sprawled out on chairs and pillows and blankets, drinking their choice of wine, ale, or spirits, laughing, talking and watching the stars from the other side.

Monty was just coming back from the table with another plate of bean stew. He sat down on the couch between Jasper and Miller.

“Another round?” Jasper asked.

Monty shrugged. “It’s my favorite. Reminds me of being a kid.”

“What happened to the beef? I thought we were on Earth. Bean stew is a regular Ark meal,” Clarke said, comfortable in Bellamy’s arms.

Monty pointed his spoon at her. “It turns out, the mountain does not actually have that many cows in agro. They take up a lot of resources. Most of what they do keep are for dairy. Wallace was trying to impress us with that meal. Trying to impress you.”

“Besides, Princess,” Bellamy said, hugging her closer to him, “For those of us who didn’t grow up on Alpha, bean stew was what we ate for holiday meals. It’s traditional. Unity Day, Birthdays, finally getting a chance to celebrate not being dead.”

“Yeah,” Raven snarked, “With the added benefit of plentiful odiferous methane production. We lower classes love our bean stew.” Even Clarke had to laugh at that.

Without warning, Jasper grabbed Monty’s bowl of bean stew and shoveled it into his mouth.

“Hey!” Monty cried, “What the hell, Jasper. That was mine!” He sputtered.

Jasper smugly chewed his stolen bean stew, raising his glass to the delinquents and letting out a long, loud fart. “I fart so they don’t have to,” he said through his mouthful of beans.

Clarke’s eyebrows shot up. The rest of the delinquents broke out in hysterical laughter. Miller ended up rolling on the ground, clutching his stomach, trying to get his breath back.

“What the hell?” Clarke poked a snickering Bellamy in the side.

“I might have told them what Wallace said to us. I mean, they asked me why you left. I didn’t know what else to say.”

When the laughter died down, Jasper put down Monty’s plate and turned to Clarke.

“Do me a favor, Clarke, never take moral advice from a monster who bled a people dry for 50 years, okay? We’ll the bear the weight of our own actions. All of us, we bear it together.”

Clarke turned to look at Bellamy, then Raven, and Octavia. Her friends all looked at her. Bellamy nodded. Clarke fought back the tears that were welling in her eyes. Then she jumped up and attacked Jasper with a huge hug.

“Okay, you got it. Together.”