Happy Valentine's Day, shadowhunter123!
----
The grounders were abuzz with something, the skycrew could feel it in the chill winter air. Clarke didn’t know what was going on, but she was tense about it- after all, grounders excited about something? Not common, and definitely not something she was prepared for. The peace had been steady for months now, but there could always be one more thing that could tear the fragile alliance apart-
"Take it easy, Clarke." Bellamy said as he walked up being their troubled leader and settled down across from her, munching on an apple. Clarke rolled her eyes and chugged the remainder of her drink, wiping her mouth on her hand.
"How can I? Something’s happening, and I don’t know what-" she started, when he held up his hand.
"They’re excited. And not in the murder-spree kind of way."
"You sure about that?" Clarke gave Bellamy the look she always did, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Positive," he remarked, taking another bite. "They’re happy. Let’s accept it for what it is."
"I’m not so sure about that," Clarke stated tensely, when she was interrupted by gates opening. Four grounders flanked the Commander, who’s head was lifted high as only Lexa’s ever was. Clarke stood immediately and Bellamy followed suit, preparing to exit as he knew his time with Clarke was over.
"Lexa," Clarke said as the Commander herself walked up to the two. "Glad you’re here."
"As am I, Clarke. We have much to prepare," the Commander stated, holding her hand up for her guards to halt. "The festivities begin tonight."
"Festivities?" Clarke asked, confused. She looked to Bellamy, but he only shrugged.
"For Night Veras, of course." Lexa looked Clarke over. "Do you not celebrate in the sky?"
"Nothing like that." Clarke shook her head.
"It is a celebration of the soul-bondings within our village." Lexa continued, nonplussed. “For the moment our warrior’s souls become one. Do you have such a moment in your culture?”
“We call it marriage,” Bellamy supplied. Clarke nodded as he continued, “But it’s the same concept.”
“Then you are aware of the Night Veras,” the Commander said appreciatively. In that moment, one of her guards said something in rapid Tridegasleng. Lexa turned, and Bellamy spoke quickly, voice low.
“Veras- probably broken down Eros, Greek god of love.”
“What does that mean?” Clarke said, equally quietly.
“You read the history books. It’s Valentine’s Day, Griffin.” Clarke’s eyes widened just as Lexa turned back from her guard.
“We must make haste. I came to ask for a count.”
Clarke turned to look at Bellamy, who shook his head a fraction of a centimeter. “I don’t think any of our warriors are ready for a soul-bonding.”
“You have no tributes?” Lexa asked, and Clarke shook her head no.
“Not this year.”
“Do you not wish to be bonded with your soul-mate, Clarke?” She asked, eyes narrowed.
“I think it’s a little early for that.” Clarke smiled, but not really. “My people will take part next year, but now? We’re barely surviving.”
“And what of Octavia?”
Clarke could feel Bellamy’s gaze on her back.
“Octavia is Indra’s second, Lexa. I’m sure there are other things on her mind.” Bellamy’s gaze cooled.
Lexa gave a curt nod. “Understood. Shall we still expect to see you at the gathering tonight?”
“Absolutely.” Clarke smiled, knowing how offended Lexa would be if she didn’t take up her offer, and nobody wanted an offended commander- or grounder army- on their hands.
The Commander smiled coyly and started for the camp exit as Clarke breathed an audible sigh of relief.
“That was all,” she said, relieved. “That’s what the grounders are all up at arms about?” Clarke turned towards Bellamy, who smiled.
“Told you it was nothing, Griffin.”
Clarke just rolled her eyes and looked towards the receding image of the Commander.
“I hope so.”
Later on that night, the festivities were in full swing. Clarke grinned and took a swig of Monty’s moonshine, which was better than ever since they built the still. A couple weeks without alcohol does a lot to a group of people.
In the center of the party, Lexa raised her hand, and everyone quieted, falling into place around her.
“Fien. We a gatra her tinit fir ta Night Vetras,” Lexa shouted, and the grounders cheered. Clarke did, too, recognizing some of the language- we are gathered tonight for the Night Vetras. She felt a solid presence behind her and took another sip.
“It’s amazing how quickly we pick this stuff up,” Bellamy said in a low voice as Lexa continued with her speech.
“Desperation,” Clarke responded as Bellamy settled in next to her, “is a powerful opiate.”
“Do you think some of us will be up there next year?” He said, pointing to the center, where a spiritual leader was touching the heads of warriors in rows- first, a brawny man and thick woman were touched, then a short man and a large but young-faced boy, then two women who made Clarke glad that the grounders were now on their side. Clarke nodded.
“We’re all human, after all,” she said, slowly. “After basic necessities are met, people are going to start falling in love. It’s inconvenient.”
“Such a romantic.” Bellamy snorted as they watched two warriors who could not be older than 14 being touched and exiting the row, hands clasped.
“They do seem happy,” Clarke said, almost wistfully, and Bellamy got a fraction of an inch closer, so she could feel his body heat against her.
“We will be too, you know,” he said, and she smiled.
“Just give it a year.”
“Maybe not even that long,” Bellamy said, and Clarke looked at him. Bellamy was staring right back, and she swallowed thickly.
“Maybe.” She chugged the rest of her moonshine and wiped her mouth with her hand.
“Best Valentine’s Day ever,” Bellamy said above her, and suddenly, surrounded by grounders and souls and her people and the solid man next to her, with moonshine in her throat and something soft in her heart, brand-new, Clarke agreed.
