Brave Princess - A Bellarke Story

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Two

Clarke:

We run, with the gunshots ringing on the walls of the tunnels, and the shouts of guards behind us. I speed up, the thin fabric of my gown somehow managing to not become tangled in my legs.

Bellamy is a blur of black and blue to my left. And up ahead, the darkness of the tunnel starts to fade to light. Slowly, the brown of the tunnel walls turn golden with the glow of the sun.

I pant, pushing myself to run faster, to outrun the guards behind us. Yes, I think, we were fools to think we could get the kids out, alone.

The light, golden and white, fills the tunnel now, and the guards come faster, clanking behind us as they somehow manage to run in their suits. But then, as we near the light, I speak.

"Bellamy?"

The word gets his attention. "I see it." We skid to a stop, the tunnel suddenly giving way to a huge waterfall.

I turn behind me. The guards are almost here. The footsteps grow louder.

"We have to jump," Bellamy says.

There's barely any time to think, but I do. "We could die!" The words are desperate, perhaps even fearful, but they ring true.

I see a flicker of doubt cross Bellamy's face. It disappears quickly. "We could live," he says.

There's no time. I nod. He nods. And then we jump, bullets cascading around us as we fall. The bullets disappear as we plummet.

Water sprays my clothes. The world moves upward. And I hit the water with a loud smack, the impact hindering my ability to move for a while. I let myself float, half awake and half unconscious. My head is fuzzy.

Underwater, I blink, and then I'm being pulled to the surface. The cloth of my gown clings to my body like a second skin. I sputter and cough as the arms set me down on the rocks.

The shapes I see are fuzzy at first, a medley of brown and grey. I cough, spraying water onto the fuzzy blobs. Slowly, the shapes of the rocks become more defined, and my range of vision increases.

I manage to roll off my side, and turn on my back. And I'm met with a beautiful sight.

"We lived," he says gently, standing above me. In that moment, with the setting sun behind him and the smile on his face, he looks like some sort of angel. His face is scratched and dirty, but beautiful all the same.

Bellamy reaches his hand out to me and I take it, grasping my lifeline. His hand is wet and cold, but solid and strong. I take it eagerly, and he pulls me to my feet.

"We did," I want to say, but in that moment, the words are caught in my throat. Instead I smile, squeezing his hand. He grins.

-

Night comes quickly. And with night, is the exhaustion. My calves burn, crying out in agony. Bellamy must notice my limp, because he suddenly stops walking.

"What are you doing?" I ask him, trying to not be too content with stopping.

"You're tired," Bellamy says simply. "We can rest. We need to rest."

"I'm fine," I tell him, trying to resume our walking. His hand on my arm stops me.

"Clarke," he says. He raises his eyebrow in concern.

"Fine," I say stiffly. "We can sleep." I glare at him before turning away.

We fall asleep under a tree. I'm so tired that sleep comes easily. Midnight blue engulfs me, the color of the night.

-

"Wake up dear," someone says. It's a voice I immediately stiffen at. The operator. "Didn't think I would let you sleep for long, did you?" Her voice is sickly sweet. I can hear the rattling of the tools in the background.

Rattling of tools.

And then my brain switches on. Was all of this a dream? Am I really still on the table? I try to reach my hands up. My hands find only the leather that binds them down.

My heart sinks. I'm still here. I've never left. I never found Bellamy. "Don't do this," I tell the operator as she turns around.

She raises her eyebrows and tightens the straps around my ankles. She doesn't respond.

"You have enough of my marrow. Red blood cells don't just regenerate so quickly."

I try reason. I guess it doesn't work on her. She purses her lips and looks up at me. "Darling," she begins, tightening the last strap far tighter than she needs to. I wince, and she grins. "I hope you know how very important you are to us."

"Did you generate the dream?" I raise my voice, desperate for an explanation. "Did you make me see him again? Answer me!" I scream.

She glares at me. "I don't know what you're talking about." She's lying. She has to be. She knows something I don't.

"Don't play games with me." My voice is low, my words harsh. "What did you do?" And I'm screaming at her again.

"Stop it, dear," she says, picking up the drill. "I haven't done anything yet."

-

Pain. Darkness. And then the vague shapes of a forest as I wake.

Breathing heavily, I sit up and rest my elbows on my knees. I bow my head, catching my breath. That was the dream. Not this.

I look at Bellamy, who hasn't moved since I woke up. He's still asleep.

"Clarke?" He asks, slowly waking. "I heard a scream." His eyes find mine. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It was nothing." It was just a dream. But so real.

He doesn't look convinced. Bellamy's face contorts into an expression I can only think of as pity. He must know what happened, and why it did. But I don't want his pity, so his expression angers me. I clench my jaw and look away from him.

As I stand up, he speaks. "Clarke--"

"No!" I tell him as he stands. I close my eyes in frustration. "Look, we're both awake. We may as well move."

"No," he says simply. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." He raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, looking like an angered parent.

Glaring, I tell him, "Stop it." My voice is weak.

But he doesn't listen. "Are you going to let me in, Clarke? I'm trying so hard to--"

"I lost you!" I finally yell, not bothering to try to stop my eyes from watering. "I had you, and then I woke up in that room." I bow my head, my hair flying in my face and getting caught in the tears there. "And all I could do was die."

I can see the apology in his eyes. It's practically written across his face. But he doesn't speak. Maybe he can't find the words. Strangely, I am almost ashamed. I'm ashamed at my weakness.

But Bellamy doesn't mind my weakness. He has it too. He steps forward and tentatively brushes the tendrils off my wet cheeks. His hand lingers on my skin, cupping my cheek.

"You'll never lose me Clarke," he tells me at last. The wind picks up and seems to push us closer. He brings our foreheads together, and I revel in the feeling of his skin.

I breathe in, my breaths heavy with emotion. I squeeze my eyes shut. "I know."

Slowly at first, we move. We find each other's lips in the darkness, with the wind swirling around us. I feel nothing but dark, but Bellamy--Bellamy feels like light, and light tastes like home.

There's not nearly enough time, enough hands, or enough spit to make up for everything. It doesn't cure the pain. But for now, I'm content with love.

AN: Hello! I hope this chapter satisfies. What did you think about Clarke's dream? Did I scare you? 😝

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