#thelightinthedark

“And you’re only telling me this now?” Clarke adds.

She shrugs. “I don’t know how much it matters. After all, the main issue remains.”

“Main issue?” asks Clarke.

“The footage is damning, regardless of anything else. Just because Bellamy wasn’t aware of the deception, that doesn’t mean it’s not a problem. But he does seem to have been innocent of all wrong-doing.”

“If he wasn’t doing anything wrong then what was he doing?” Katherine demands.

“Saying goodbye,” Clarke says, less to them than just in their presence. It’s for her. But since they’re there, she adds, “He just–he wanted to say goodbye. That’s what he told me.”

“You’re getting married, not dying.”

She feels exhausted, suddenly. “I stopped my flirtation with him, like you told me I had to. That doesn’t mean I stopped having feelings for him. You know as well as I do what my getting married will do to our friendship.” She exhales, getting her feelings under control. “But it doesn’t matter. Like Indra said, all that matters is how we deal with the fallout of the video. It doesn’t affect anything else. Wells and I are getting married this afternoon. And Bellamy and I are–nothing.”

Her grandmother watches her, a small frown on her face. “I am sorry,” she finally says. “I know this is not–the life of a princess is not an easy one, and I did you no favors when I told you this was your future. It isn’t all balls and true love’s kiss, in real life.”

“No,” she agrees. “But I know my duty. I’ll do what has to be done.”

*

“So,” says Wells. It’s bad luck to see him before the wedding, but they have fallout to deal with. He deserves an explanation. “That guy. Bellamy?”

“Yeah, Bellamy.”

“Why aren’t you marrying him? I remember seeing you two dancing at the ball. He seems like a good prospect.”

“He’s not royal. Not even noble. He was there with his sister. Who’s apparently my heir, until I produce another one. So it’s this whole–” She sighs. “His family was working to dethrone me, because I’m not a good ruler.”

“You know that’s bullshit, right?” he asks. “You’re going to be a great queen, Clarke.”

“I hope so.” She bites the corner of her mouth. “But I don’t think I can marry you.”

“I was thinking that too.”

Her smile aches a little. “You were?”

“I want to do what’s best for my home, my country, my people. But I want to do what’s best for myself too.”

“I get that. But–I think this might be easy for me.”

“Which part?”

“What’s best for all of those is the same thing, I’m pretty sure.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

This time, her smile is sure. “I need a really good speech.”

*

As Wells said, Clarke did meet Bellamy first at a ball. He was hard to miss, handsome and charming, but more importantly just a little bit lost. A little like Clarke herself felt, honestly.

When she asked what he was doing there, he answered honestly: he was escorting his sister. In fact, he basically always told her the truth, or at least most of it. He’d been honest about the fact that he thought monarchy was an outdated practice, that he thought the country would be better off with someone who understood the perspective of the common citizen. He and Clarke had bickered about it, her pointing out that she had lived most of her life as a common citizen and Bellamy shooting back that she hadn’t been an Arcadian citizen.

She’d thought that if he was one of the choices for marriage, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Now, though, she knows he isn’t. Even if he didn’t ask to see her the other night because he wanted to see her, he’s still not someone she can marry. She’s a princess, and she needs to marry a prince, not a man whose mother married into the nobility after he was born.

But if he isn’t trying to keep her from being queen, she assumes that means he wants to help.

“Clarke!” he says, when he picks up his phone. “Fuck, I’ve been calling all morning, I wanted to apologize, O’s uncle, he–”

“It’s okay,” she says. “I know it wasn’t your idea. My head of security filled me in. That’s not why I called.”

There’s a pause. “Uh, okay. Then why are you calling?”

“You’re a speechwriter.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m writing a speech to give about why I’m not getting married today that’s hopefully going to convince parliament to change the law about my not being able to be queen. I’ve got most of it done, but I could use another set of ears.”

Another pause. “So, I don’t need to come to your wedding and try to talk you out of it? Because these YouTube videos about how I’m supposed to tie this tie aren’t really helping much, so it would be good if you already changed your mind.”

“I’ve never been the one who needs to be convinced this is a shitty idea,” she points out. Her smile is so big it almost hurts. “I always thought it was a bad law. I’ve been trying to change it, and this is my last chance. So I need to bring my A-game.”

“You came to the right guy,” he says. “After we got O on the throne, the next step was taking out that law.”

Clarke smiles. “So, your plan was to use a shitty law to dethrone me and then immediately get the law overturned so she wouldn’t have to marry some random guy?”

“Like you said, it’s a shitty law. So tell me what you’ve got and I’ll tell you if you’re missing anything.”

“This isn’t getting you out of coming the wedding, by the way.”

“No?” he asks, sounding surprised.

“I’m hoping I’m going to have something to celebrate after. And I want you to be there.”

“You do?”

“I kind of like you,” she says, and there’s another pause.

“Okay, well. Let’s get this thing done,” he says, voice thick. “And then I’ll figure out how bow ties work.”

“It’s not really going to be a wedding. You don’t have to dress up.”

“I still want to look nice,” he says. “Read me your speech.”

*

It’s not hard to come up with a whole list of reasons the Arcadian tradition is archaic and unfair, including its inherent misogyny and homophobia, and apparently her parliament likes her well enough that their response to an ultimatum about changing the job or losing her as the heir is changing the law.

So she doesn’t get married, but they’re still set up for a big party, and as far as Clarke’s concerned, they have a lot to be grateful for.

Unfortunately, everyone else seems to feel the same, because they all want to talk to her, tell her how happy they are, how they always supported her, and it feels like hours before she disentangles herself from the politicians and finds enough space to breathe.

“To your left, in the corner,” Indra says, low, and Clarke follows her gaze to spot Bellamy, looking slightly awkward in the corner with his sister. He’s more dressed up than she’s seen him since the first time he met, but this time he didn’t slick his hair back or put in his contacts. His glasses are sliding down his nose and his hair is a riot of curls.

She told him she liked him better like this, and he listened.

“Can you watch but not stay that close?” she asks Indra. “There’s security everywhere. I just want to pretend I have some privacy.”

“I do love pretending I’m not here,” she says. “Good luck.”

Octavia notices her first, raises her flute of champagne in Clarke’s direction with a wry smile. “Congratulations on getting the law changed. Honestly, I’m relieved.”

“Really?” Clarke asks.

“I know Bell was convinced I’d be a good queen, but I think I can do more good outside the monarchy. Plus, if they didn’t change the law I would have had to marry some noble I’d never met. That would have sucked.”

“Glad I could help. I did it for you, obviously.”

She smirks. “Yeah, for me. Which reminds me, I have to go talk to–” She casts around, clearly trying to find someone whose name she can use. “Lord Kane. Good to see you!”

“Subtle,” Clarke tells Bellamy, and he rubs the back of his neck, flushing slightly.

“I told her she needed to come so I’d have backup.”

“You need backup?”

“I wasn’t sure.” He clears his throat. “Not that I’m not glad you’re not married, but that means you’re going to be the queen. I assume you’ll be–busy.”

“I will be. But I could use someone I trusted to talk to. Give me feedback on my speeches. Consult about important issues.”

He looks her up and down, dubious. “You want to hire me?”

“No, that’s not–if you want a job writing speeches for me, you can have it, but that’s not really what I was thinking.”

“Which was?”

He’s smiling, so she can too. “I’m not really ready to get married yet, honestly. But I wouldn’t mind dating. You, specifically.”

“I didn’t think queens dated.”

“I think we can do what we want.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not true. If the last few weeks of trying to derail your coronation taught me anything, it’s that you really can’t. You technically couldn’t marry me if you wanted to. Not that I’m, uh–”

“I bet that’s a law we could get changed if we wanted to. And it’s not like we’re in a hurry, right? We can figure it out later. When it comes up. But maybe we should start with dinner.”

He offers his hand. “How about starting with a dance?”

She takes it, feeling his fingers close around hers, rough and warm. “I’d love to.”

*

A year later, he puts a draft of an amendment to the law about female members of the royal family having to marry titled nobles to retain their own status and property.

“It’s not homophobic, but it is misogynistic,” he says. “I think you should be able to get it changed.”

She smiles, scanning over the papers. “Thanks. Any particular reason you want me to look into it?”

“I figure you might want to get married someday. You want to have your options open. In case there’s a commoner who’s planning to make you dinner and propose soon. Just for example.”

“Soon?”

“As soon as the law changes, probably.”

“So I should work on it now, is what you’re telling me.”

“Just if you want to get married soon. I know royal weddings can take a while, so–”

“So let’s get the law changed and see if we can find a commoner to propose to me.”