Scene 2

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Proclamation Scene

"I don't... I love...." Her voice trailed off.

His eyes darkened and his voice was raspy. "You love him still, don't you? He cares nothing for you. You're just a puppet, locked into his way of thinking." He turned away, shaking his head.

"No, Clarke. You're wrong. I'm not a puppet. I. Love. You." She had to shove the last three words out. She couldn't see the dawning look on his face of hope and love. She struggled to rise and still be covered in the warm sheepskin blanket; her wounded right arm clung to the blanket while her left arm stretched to meet his.

"Don't you see? I could have escaped. But I didn't. I stayed. For you," she cried.

Thoughts whirled inside Clarke's mind. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; Aurora loved him? Swiftly he turned and grabbed at Aurora's waist.

"Can it be..." It was his turn for his voice to trail.

He bent his head to meet her upturned one. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his lips met hers in a tender, soft kiss. She didn't care anymore about the blanket or her arm; she reached up to cling to him. His arms wrapped around her, cradling and protecting her. Her fingers ran through his luscious hair. He deepened the kiss and she responded willingly.

But then he broke away.

"We need to stop, for our own good."

She was still wrapped in the blanket, but it was slipping. Since she had let go during the kiss, she had not wrapped it securely. He could see the tops of her small, rounded breasts; the light of the flickering fire outlined her in a smoky aura. He wanted her, but he couldn't do that.

"Clarke..." But she couldn't finish whatever she was going to say.

He swooped her up in his arms, blanket and all, and carried her to the pile of cushions he'd thrown together. Gently, he laid her down and covered her with another sheepskin. Then, he walked away, denying himself his greatest desire. He would keep watch this night.

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