Chapter Text
De Nile was a River in Egypt (Is there still an Egypt?)
Nearly two weeks later, it still seemed to Clarke that Bellamy Blake and his hook-up Harem were everywhere. She’d counted at least five other faces that had stumbled from his tent in the early morning hours - dazed looking girls who looked satisfied and proud.
Word seemed to have gone out and around - Bellamy was on the hunt. Practically everywhere Clarke went she would see girls preening and competing for his attention. A couple of nights ago, it culminated in a fistfight. Bellamy sat back and watched as Kennedy and Jordan duked it out, grinning smugly as Miller finally intervened and broke it up. Clarke’s opinion must’ve shown on her face because his grin disappeared the moment he’d caught her look. His gaze darkened, and he’d frowned at her - as if he was judging her.
Well, she had no time for Bellamy “so what if I occasionally quote poetry, I can still kill you” Blake and his stupid mind games. Clarke was determined to focus on Finn, who’d been nothing but trustworthy since they’d found each other again.
Or at least she was trying.
She grimaced as Finn clutched her closer in his sleep. Even unconscious he still seemed to need reassurance that she was really there with him. It didn’t matter that they finally were sleeping together - and it was…well, nice…pleasant, like cuddling at under the stars…nice. She ignored the little voice muttering in her head that it was nice to cuddle with ANYONE and that it didn’t matter if it was Finn cuddling or not.
She also ignored the slight twinge of disappointment she’d felt in general. it was clear she wasn’t destined for a grand passion - not like her parents. Part of her always wanted to have a love to die for and who would die for her - which was…WHOA ….sooooooo unhealthy - she couldn’t EVEN …seriously.
“Yo, Princess” Clarke jack-knifed up as Bellamy abruptly slapped the side of her tent, “get decent! We roll in 10”. Beside her Finn groaned, and shifted, pulling his arm back.
“A wake up call from our Imperial Grand Poobah! How special.” He grimaced.
Bellamy poked his head in the entrance, and his dark eyes scanned the space - his lips twisting as he spotted the two naked inhabitants. He bit back a slam, she could see it - and turned to Finn.
“Miller’s leading a hunting party and they could use you.” The command was quiet but clear. “Also leaving in ten.”
“Right,” Finn quirked an eyebrow back at him and raised his hands over his head, doing a weird little wave. “Wooo-AH-WAH” He settled back and pulled up the covers. Clarke grinned. THAT was why she was with Finn. His refusal to be intimidated, or to take anything too seriously was a perfect counterpoint to Bellamy’s intensity.
Bellamy couldn’t place reference, but he clearly knew he was being mocked. He gave them both an impotent glare and barked “Ten!” back over his shoulder as he left.
Clarke chuckled and slowly sat up. “I suppose I’d better get dressed or Bellamy will be back in a minute to help.” That was a mistake.
“Let him try.” Finn declared seriously, his eyes flashing. “He’ll get an eyeful.” He pulled her into a passionate kiss, and started to lower her down.
“Woah, wait, Finn - “ She protested, worming herself free. “We don’t have the time.” She gave him a quick kiss as shook herself loose and grabbed her shirt.
“So what? We don’t have to do everything he says all the time.” His tone was light, but his gaze was assessing. She opted to focus on the buttons of her henley instead of that probing stare.
“We do today. He’s doing me a favor, remember?” She tossed him his jeans. “Come on, the faster we go the less we hear about it.
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Fifteen minutes later she was dressed and ready - pack on her back. Bellamy was there already, quietly fuming.
“Pretty sure I said ten minutes, Princess” He swung around to glare at her, arms crossed.
“Pretty sure that I told you yesterday that i didn’t need an escort.” She met his glare with one of her own. “The Grounders aren’t a problem anymore.”
He chuckled humorlessly, his eyes spanning the rest of the group. She recognized his pre-inspirational speech stance - legs spread, hands on hips, his posture tightened to maximize his height as he angled to address the entire camp. He hadn’t had too many opportunities to use the stance since the relative calm after their rescue from Mt. Weather, but as usual she had given him an opportunity.
He should thank her really. The female members of the camp (except for Clarke and his sister) were all ears (eyes really.)
Clarke hated the stance - even if it drew attention to his broad shoulders and the lean strength of his thighs.
His THIGHS…why was she…?
“Just because we haven’t seen them recently, Princess - doesn’t mean they’re not around. Ask Lincoln.” …The Grounders…He was talking about the Grounders.
He pulled his rifle forward, his intent clear. “Relax your guard and that’s when you’re vulnerable.” His finger played with the trigger. The Freudian symbolism was too much and Clarke couldn’t resist commenting.
“Poor Bellamy, always looking for someone to shoot.” She gave him a small smile. “You know if you put your gun away once in a while, it would be a lot more exciting when you bring it out again.” She heard but opted to ignore the hoots and chuckles in the background.
He snorted, a wry twist to his mouth. “Bored with my gun, Princess?” More hoots and chuckles. He leaned forward, his lips practically on her ear. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who is.” His dark eyes focused on her lips. They were so close, she could feel the flicker of his breath on her ear, a warm tickling sensation that caused an frisson of energy down her spine, to pool low in her belly. She felt her breath hitch - and was surprised when she heard him take a steadying breath of his own.
She stepped back, ignoring the tension, trying to focus on the business at hand.
“Well I doubt that the Grounders are gonna fight us for a few mushrooms, now.” She could feel Finn’s worried gaze from across the camp. It must’ve seemed like she and Bellamy were flirting, which wasn’t true at all. She reared back as he leaned close again - probably to make another joke - but she couldn’t risk it. Finn looked like he was about to head back over to them.
“Look Bellamy, why are we wasting time chatting? We really need to go or we’ll loose the light.”
His eyes cooled.
“As you wish, your Highness” He bowed elaborately and waved her forward. “Lead the way.”
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Three hours later, Bellamy was cursing the impulse that made him offer to show her this mushroom field. It was three hours of frustration, irritation and disappointment. He didn’t know what he’d expected when he’d made the offer - maybe a day with Clarke, laughing together the way they did when no one else was around. Maybe it was a chance for him to talk to her without the ever present threat of Finn running over to interrupt and break the connection between them.
That was it, really - he missed the connection with the one person who really understood him. Octavia knew him, knew his favorite treat and his favorite stories, but he protected her from the other parts of him. The new parts, the parts that were so dark that he was afraid of them himself. Clarke knew those parts, she’d gone with him into those dark depths and had brought him out whole.
“I need you.”
Three little words, not the ones that the poets raved about, but with those three little words, Clarke found the keys to Bellamy’s soul. He needed to be needed, needed to know he was helping, protecting others - without that he had no idea why he was alive. She knew that about him, understood him - he thought.
“Wow, this must be record” He was startled out of his reverie by Clarke’s stark comment.
“What?” His brown furrowed. “What are you talking about?” He turned to face her. She was holding a mushroom as big as her head.
“Your sulk” Clarke grinned at him. “Three hours - this must be a record.”
“I don’t sulk” he snarled.
“Oh yes you do.” She smiled.
“I do not sulk.” He declared. “You were the one who wanted to stop talking.”
“Aw, poor Bellamy - did I hurt your feelings?” He knew she was teasing, but he didn’t appreciate it. He turned his back on her.
“Look Clarke, get your mushrooms and we can get out of here.” And GREAT; there were storm clouds on the horizon, too. Today was turning into one big fail. He jerked as he felt a delicate little hand on his arm.
“I’m serious - I really do want to apologize.” Her voice was low. “I didn’t mean to be so weird - Finn - “ He couldn’t help but smirk.
“Spacewalker really has an inferiority complex around me, doesn’t he?” Bellamy shot her a wicked look over his shoulder. “You should do something about that.”
“I should?” Clarke shook her head. “Maybe you should stop - “
“Stop what?” Bellamy gave her his best, knowing look. “what am I doing that is so threatening?”
She tried to shrug it off. He wasn't gonna let her.
“You guys are sleeping together now - he should feel all locked down and secure.” He reached up above his head and gripped the thick limb. He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to stretch to relieve his tension, until Clarke’s eyes locked on his bicep. Instinctively, he flexed and was astounded as he watched as soft lips part in response. Eager to test his new theory, he leaned forward, the gesture tightening his muscles even more, the effort hitching up his t-shirt. He felt her eyes drift to the sliver of bare skin at his hip and she licked her lips, unconsciously.
Boom.
He got it now…got it in the way her breath was stuttering - got it in the way his body was tightening in response - got it in the way he had to clench his hands against that tree limb to stop himself from grabbing her and pulling her against him.
She might be with Spacewalker, but she wasn’t satisfied - not even close. Not if she wanted him.
He felt a simmer deep inside - something he’d ignored and tried to crush had just sprung back to life. He'd tried to kill it - everytime he watched her wander off with Finn, but he realized now, she felt it too.
“Crap” Clarke flinched and put her hand out. “We need to find shelter - the storm is starting.”
He couldn’t hide the triumph he was feeling. “It sure is, Princess.”