something new to hold: chapter 3/?
tags: canon-divergence, post season 3, unplanned pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort
chapter summary: “Clarke…” With her name, Bellamy breaks the silence and the spell. “We should probably go see your mom today.”
“You don’t have to come,” Clarke replies, but she quickly realizes how silly it sounds. Surely enough, he reminds her: “Yes, I do, Clarke. If you’re-- If you’re pregnant, it’s my responsibility, too. I’m not letting you do any of this alone.”
Looking around, Clarke is extremely proud of how Arkadia has evolved, only as a result of mutual effort: In two years, they’ve managed to built a few wooden cabins with built-in fireplaces, a playground for the children that successfully distracts them from going into the woods, and several showers, which were - to say the least - much needed. Currently, Monty and Raven are developing a method that hopefully will allow them to grow grain and vegetables. From the outside, it looks as if the council does most of the work, but that’s far from true - After all, a foundation is nothing without a construction.
Twice a week, members of the guard gather a number of adult volunteers that will go with them on hunting trips. Usually, they come back with fish, rabbits or deer, and the tailoring station use the scraps of fur and pelt to make clothes that are crucial in the colder seasons: coats, boots and gloves.
Bellamy is a member of the elected guard, which means that he always goes hunting, and he clearly loves the freedom of the forest, as it takes some of the leadership responsibilities off his shoulders. That’s why Clarke refuses to believe when Miller tells her that Bellamy didn’t want to participate this time.
“But he’s been looking forward to that trip for days!”
“I know,” Miller shrugs. “He just said there was some personal stuff he wanted to deal with first.”
Of course… Biting her lower lip, Clarke tries to be surprised, upset even, but all that does is make her smile softly at the ground. “Like what?” She counters as though she doesn’t know the answer, and Miller simply raises an eyebrow, smearing some of the gunpowder that covers his fingertips.
