"Do not go gentle into that good night. Old age should burn and rave at close of day; rage, rage against the dying of the light." - Dylan Thomas
Bellamy Blake has waited an hour, and Clarke Griffin still hasn't returned. A second hour passes, and he switches places with one of the guards on duty.
John, he remembers somewhere in the crevices of his mind. He switches places with John.
John is walking away when Bellamy stops him with his voice. "You see a blonde hellcat?" He asks, and he tries to keep the concern out of his voice.
John turns around and shakes his head, giving Bellamy a sad sort of smile. "Sorry, man."
Bellamy purses his lips and turning away without saying anything else. She wouldn't leave, would she?
Time passes, and night continues, and Clarke Griffin is nowhere in sight. Somehow, Bellamy is worried for her. The feeling is strange. Doesn't he hate her? Of course he does.
He should be unconcerned. And really, he is, because he trusts that she can take care of herself. But that is exactly why a feeling of dread washes over him.
If she took off, she could survive on her own. But Clarke wouldn't do that. She wouldn't abandon them.
Bellamy Blake stays on watch for nine and a half hours.
Clarke wakes, and the light of morning floods her eyes, calling her out of her deep sleep. The voices that surround her are many, weaving in and out of her subconscious.
And then her brain switches on. Voices. Gruff voices, to be exact. Clarke opens her eyes and is on her feet in an instant. Grounders surround her, and she is unarmed.
"Where are the rest of you?" A man asks, stepping forward and claiming leadership.
For once, Clarke Griffin doesn't know what to say. She blinks, and the sleep is heavy in her eyes. "What?" she asks, like a fool.
The man steps forward, half of his face covered in a mask made out of a skull. Clarke forces herself to stand her ground.
"I won't ask again, sky girl." The man pauses, and when he speaks again, the words are drawn out, long and harsh. "Where are the rest of you?"
Clarke thinks of what to say, and the breeze seems to murmur in her ear the words. "I am the only one."
Where did that come from, she wonders. Never mind. She can work with this. Maybe she can keep their attention on her, and away from camp.
"You are not alone. There are others who fell from the sky. Where are they, sky girl?" His words are menacing, taunting, and she forces herself not to crumple under the weight of the tension that fills this section of the forest.
"I am the only one," Clarke says again.
The grounders surround her, and she realizes that they are slowly reaching for their weapons. The man speaks again, his voice low and husky with bloodlust.
And then a club hits her in the head. And then Clarke Griffin is taken.
When she wakes again, her head is heavy and the sound of herself sitting up rings in her ears. She has a head wound now. A horrible, aching head wound that bleeds down her neck. Did she get it when she was sleeping?
She is surrounded by darkness. The black is everywhere, and it is all she can see.
She is terrified.
She tries to move backwards, but the curve of her spine hits something, hard. Clarke turns around to feel it with her hands. Rock. She must be in a cave. But why would the grounders put her in here?
She feels around for anything. A door. A trapdoor. A window. Anything but the darkness that engulfs her and the rough rock beneath her palms.
Clarke walks around the entirety of the cave twice. And then again. Always feeling, always looking. But there is nothing. She curses.
And then the top of the cave is lifted off.
She raises a hand to the light that now floods her and squints up, her eyes beginning to adjust. Blood drips down her neck. "Who's there?"
The top of the cave-hatch-is being moved, and Clarke only sees the bright light. Silence comes with the light. And slowly, recognition of who is at the top.
The man stands over her, armed in more places than Clarke would care to count. He wears a twisted grin, looking at her like the victim she has become. She stands there, shocked and confused.
Like prey before a hunter. Like a dog before a master. She stands still.
"Good afternoon, sky girl." The man grins. And then he's jumping down and landing in the cave-cage. "We're going to play a game."
AN: Hellooooooo. Haha. I really hope that you are enjoying this so far. I am making this as realistic as I can, and so far, I am pretty proud of what I have created. Lol.
Feedback? It would be great. :)
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Do Not Go Gentle--A Bellarke StoryFanfiction
Do not go gentle into that good night. Never will they go gentle, for that is not what they are. Neither are gentle. Both are strong. They are strong alone, but they are even stronger together. This is not a story of lovers. This is a story of love...