Bellarke One Shots Book 2

98) Blank Canvases

Archive of our own
By: winterwaters
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"Tell me one more time why we're doing this?" Bellamy asked.

"Custom dictates that each clan leader is decorated to celebrate the end of winter and the start of a new spring season."

Clarke's response was nearly automatic by now, having repeated herself so many times already. She was too distracted by the clay pots lined up neatly against the wall, the bright dyes within already staining the rims. That, and the large pile of pristine white sheets in the middle of the room that was apparently to serve as a bed.

Their bed.

"Decorated with paint," Bellamy said flatly.

"Yes." She crouched by the small pots, her fingers trailing almost reverently over the edges as she spoke. "The full meeting of all the leaders is in two days. By then it'll be faded, but I think that's the point. Something about representing our tribe but showing we are also able to unite when called upon."

So many vivid colors, red and green and blue and gold...

Bellamy's voice cut in again. "And we're absolutely sure this is what they meant?"

"Lincoln translated."

"What exactly did he say?"

Clarke bit back another sigh. " 'The purpose of the ritual is to celebrate the return of warmth and color into our lives after the bleakness of winter.' " The words were practically imprinted upon her brain by now, having analyzed them to no end on her own. Now she repeated them. " 'It is to signify that we understand the importance of surviving another season in this world.' "

She stood and glared at Bellamy. "There. Happy?"

He gave a small huff but otherwise didn't reply. It was the same reason Clarke hadn't argued very much. They couldn't exactly question Lincoln's commitment after everything he'd done for them. For Octavia.

But Bellamy's silence didn't last long. "Who else knows about this?" He asked suspiciously.

"Only Lincoln. And the clan leaders, obviously. The others just think we stayed to negotiate further terms and talk strategy."

"How do we know Lincoln won't tell my sister?"

"Because if he does," she bared her teeth, " I will let it slip that three very eager, very naked girls from the Sea Clan felt the need to help her husband bathe in the ocean on our last visit."

Bellamy's mouth quirked in a smile. Even he hadn't been able to hide his laughter at the sight of the fearsome Grounder warrior standing helplessly in the water, simultaneously trying to push the wandering hands away while not offending their hosts. After several giggles of her own, Clarke had gathered her wits long enough to shoo them off before anyone else arrived.

Her gaze drifted to the colors again. She was already itching to put them to use. Though, she hadn't ever expected to be painting like this.

When she looked back up, Bellamy was deep in thought, the ever-permanent crease back on his forehead. The familiar sight gave an affectionate tug at her heart.

"So," he began carefully, "we're supposed to paint each other?"

She had to lick her lips several times to work moisture back into her mouth before answering. "Yeah. Basically."

"What about the clans who only have one chosen leader?"

Clarke had to resist rolling her eyes. He had so many questions. But she'd known that, of course. She knew him too well to think he'd just accept anything at face value.