Lost Love Found [ #Wattys2015 ] {Bellarke}

Shock Value

Clarke's POV

The noise from within the large capital building was deafening. It echoed off the walls in a constant and persistent symphony. The dictating, decreeing, demanding voices carried an almost musical cadence with various Grounder tribes speaking various forms of Trigedasleng.

As far as Clarke could tell, the other Skypeople factions would be the last to arrive.

Bellamy and Clarke were seated with the Forest Nation behind them, front and center for all to see. They were lucky to have seats at all. It appeared as though many of the chairs and benches had been destroyed. The building itself, while mostly intact, still held significant damage. However, the architecture remained grand and archaic, capturing Clarke's fascination.

Leaning backwards, Bellamy draped an arm across the back of Clarke's chair. "Sure beats the Ark's meeting hall."

Clarke glanced over at him, cracking a smile. "Everything about this place beats the Ark."

"No, not true," he replied, inclining his head towards hers as if he was about to tell Clarke some big secret. "The Ark had soccer."

"Soccer?"

"Yeah, I heard your Dad was quite the fan." He exclaimed, leaning back and away from her.

Suddenly, Clarke found her bandaged hands rather interesting.

"We used to watch it together, me and him," Clarke said. Then, she laughed, thinking of them together on the couch, talking to the television screen. "Dad loved to bet. He loved it a little too much..."

Bellamy was silent for a moment and Clarke felt his gaze on her, his comforting presence enveloping her. Soccer brought back many memories of her Dad, good and bad. She missed him more than anything.

Clarke felt a hand brush her shoulder and she looked over at Bellamy. For once, the smile on his face was full of compassion.

"You would've liked him," she whispered. "And I think he would've liked you."

Before Bellamy could open his mouth, trumpets blared. The Grounders surrounding Bellamy and Clarke instructed them to stand. They did as they were told and turned towards the doors. Clarke would have given anything for her gun right then. She felt naked without it.

Lexa was leading a group of Grounder leaders to the dais. The variations of ceremonial garb were astonishing and beautiful. Each tribe wore different clothes, wore their hair in different styles. Most of the Grounders were women. There were very few men. Clarke thought that the water Grounders looked the most striking with long cloaks and dresses composed of blue fauna.

The trumpets played until every leader was seated. Then, suddenly, they stopped and a different tune began to play.

Once more, the massive front door swung wide open. Only this time, the Skypeople strode in and Clarke's breath caught in her throat.

They weren't dressed as Bellamy and Clarke were dressed. And they weren't dressed like the Grounders either. Not even the people from Mount Weather could be compared to the Skypeople who were now standing at the door.

Clarke had never before seen such colorful fabrics, such beautiful faces. The men were wearing suits of every variation - grey, black, stripped, pink, blue. The few women that were present wore long gowns crafted out of chiffon and silk. Some wore ball gowns while others wore silky, body hugging dresses. Each one was dripping with precious stone necklaces and bracelets.

Clarke glanced over at Bellamy the same time he looked down at her. She was in utter disbelief. Where had these people come from? They certainly hadn't been here through the bombing, but there skin was tanned as though they had spent years in the sun.