Title: "If I Should Fall Behind"

Author: Lila

Rating: PG-13/Light R

Character/Pairing: Clarke, Bellamy/Clarke

Spoiler: "Bodyguard of Lies"

Length: multi-part

Summary: Three years after they land on earth, Clarke and Bellamy expand their family. Clarke isn't sure they'll get a happily ever after.

Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs.

Author's Note: That's it folks! Thanks for the reviews, comments, and feedback about this story. It's the longest fanfic that I've written (twelve chapters!) and I'm really proud of how it turned out. And because I am a huge dork, the vows are cribbed from "The Originals". I'm usually on the fence about my feelings for that show, but I adored the most recent episode and all its discussions of family. Thank you again. Enjoy.

Three Years Later

"Mama, osir ste lok-op ye?" Are we there yet?

Clarke catches Bellamy's eye from across the path; it's the third time Terra's asked that question in as many minutes.

"Not yet, Terr-bear," Bellamy responds and tugs on one of her dark braids.

"How long?" Terra switches to English and puts her hands on her hips in a familiar pose that's all Blake.

Bellamy smiles and hands her a sandwich. "Eat."

She huffs, but finds a seat on the picnic blanket and digs her lunch. Clarke ducks her head to hide her grin and helps River unwrap his own food. They eat in silence, peanut butter and honey sandwiches that don't spoil while on the road, and pass bottles of water around the circle. They're heading to the cottage for a few days and about halfway there – Clarke can't wait to sleep under the stars that night.

Bellamy gets up to check on the horses and Terra follows his movements with identical dark eyes. Usually, Clarke and Bellamy carry their own gear, but with four packs and two small people with short legs, it makes sense to ride. It's their first year bringing the twins and Clarke's both excited to share such a special place with her children, and disappointed about the extra company. Last winter, they'd left two toddlers with Abby and Kane and disappeared for three days. Clarke had missed her babies something fierce, but reveled in the alone time with Bellamy. It hadn't just been the hours spent naked beneath the furs, but the quiet moments between them: the silent tread of their boots in the snow and cool wind in their lungs and the way the air stood so still in the winter sunshine. She'll miss the easy silence between them those days and nights in the woods.

It's summer now and the air is thick with humidity, but Clarke likes the hum of excitement that surrounds them. The twins have been hearing about the cottage their entire lives and can't wait to see it for themselves. She hopes they won't be disappointed.

Terra gasps and drops the crusts of her sandwich. A streak of luminescent blue flutters by, dips twice before making for the open meadow. "Mama!" she exclaims and points at the minute movements of the butterfly's wings. With her grounder braids and astonished expression, she's a miniature-version of her aunt.

"Take Griffin with you," Clarke tells her, watches as her daughter races after the butterfly. Griffin lopes behind, eyes fixed determinedly on his mistress. He'd been a present from Octavia for the twins' first birthday, the last thing Clarke or Bellamy needed, but neither of them could resist his sweet little face. He's considerably bigger now, part Labrador retriever and part something Clarke suspects is a wolf, and there is nothing he loves more than River and Terra Blake. Bellamy keeps an eye on his daughter traipsing through the meadow, but they both feel safe knowing Griffin has her back.

River tugs on Clarke's arm. "Mama? Do you think Skye will like this?" He's holding a reddish rock in one hand, studying her with wide, worried eyes. It never fails to amaze her, that her children came from the same womb and turned out so different, her brave, bold girl and serious, sensitive boy. River curls into her side and waits patiently for her response.

"I think she'll love it," Clarke responds, heart catching in her chest as her son smiles up at her with the blinding, brilliant smile he inherited from his father. "Go put it in your pack."

Bellamy ruffles his hair as River runs by. "I think someone has a crush."

Clarke shrugs and gestures at Terra to come back. "It's sweet." Skye is Raven's daughter, three-months-old with her mom's dark hair and dad's blue eyes, and the love of River's life. From the moment he met her, crinkled and crying, he's wanted nothing more than watch over her. Wick has already made comments about his intentions, but Clarke ignores him. He would be so lucky to have a Blake love his daughter.

Bellamy comes over to stand next to her. "Wick knows I can take him with my eyes closed, right?"

Clarke rolls her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder; neither Blake twin is dating anytime soon. "They're three."

"Just saying."

Clarke watches River carefully wrap the rock in a t-shirt and tuck it into his pack. He looks so proud, so much like a little man, that it makes her heart clench again. "They're growing up so fast."

"I'm glad we brought them this year."

"Me too." The cottage is where their parents fell in love, bared their souls, made a commitment – Clarke wants to see them to see the place where it all began.

Terra pulls at Bellamy's hand to get his attention. "Nontu, osir ste kamp ruan trigeda?" Dad, are we going to the woods now?

"Osir ste ga." Let's go.

It's a complicated process getting everyone on the horses, but the packs and people are finally loaded, and their little group follows a path into the forest. Up ahead, Clarke can hear Terra talking to Bellamy in Trigedasleng, asking question after question about everything she sees. River settles against Clarke's chest and watches his surroundings with a stoic gaze that reminds her of Lincoln. His eyes though, they're all Griffin, a deep blue-green that Clarke used to see in the mirror back on the Ark. They're the only trait of hers that either child inherited.

She'd complained about it to her mom once, lamented how much Blake ran in her children's veins and how little Griffin she'd given them. Abby had laughed and patted her daughter's cheek. "I used to say the same about you."

Clarke had blinked back at her. "I'm just like you."

"You didn't used to be." Abby's voice was tense and her face was drawn. "Before…before you came to the ground, I only ever saw your dad." She swallowed hard, remembering the girl her daughter was in the sky. "I'm sorry for what it took to see me in you." Clarke had seen it too, blood and war and a missile raining death on Ton DC. She prays her children are never faced with the same choices.

Terra is a child of the earth and worships the ground Octavia walks on. She wants nothing more than to follow her aunt into battle, to stand at her side as a second, and it makes Clarke's heart skip a beat just from thinking about it. "She will make a strong commander," Lexa had said when she'd met Terra. "It's rare for such skills to pass from mother to child." Clarke had smiled politely and ignored the shiver that worked its way down her spine. She knows well that she can't control her daughter's fate, but hopes she chooses another path.

River is her child of the sky, a dreamer that loses himself in Bellamy's stories and Abby's memories. He loves hearing about his grandpa, Jake the Great, or the adventures of Odin and Thor, or the reign of Caesar Augustus. His interests make it easier for Clarke to breathe. She might lose him to medicine or the law, but she knows it won't be by an enemy's sword. It gives her a bit of comfort, that he might look like Bellamy, but have something of her in his disposition. She watches his face as they arrive at the cottage, sees the wonder washing over his face, and remembers the morning she stepped off a dropship and into the sunshine for the first time. She doesn't love him more, this child in which she can see bits of herself, but she understands him better. It's a good lesson to learn, another way to avoid the mistakes of her past. It took years to rebuild her relationship with Abby – she won't lose any time with Terra.

They arrive at the cottage in late afternoon, and Clarke unpacks the gear while Bellamy takes the children to the river to catch dinner. She lets him clean and fry the fish too. She has many talents, and few weaknesses, but filleting fish tops the latter list. Instead, she lies in the grass, using Griffin as a pillow, and lets the summer breeze brush over her.

Clarke signed a new trade pact with Luna the winter after the twins were born and salt is no longer a precious commodity. Monty's blossomed under the new work policies, and merged his engineering and agro skills to develop innovative farming techniques. They grow their own herbs and spices now, and Bellamy's seasoned the fish with salt, pepper, and lemon juice. It's delicious. She laughs as River and Terra lick their fingers to show their appreciation, a Grounder tradition they learned from Octavia, but honor their mother's request to wash their hands before going to play.

After the dishes have been washed and the food packed away, Clarke and Bellamy settle on the front porch to watch the twins and Griffin race across the lawn. Their arms bump, matching tattoos melding together where their shoulders touch. They got them a year ago, not long after they renewed their vows, a leafy tree with a lazy stream twining around its roots. Half the tattoo is inked into Bellamy's skin and half into Clarke's, and when they fuse, earth and water, their family is complete.

Clarke still has mixed feelings about marriage – on the ground they're more often about sealing alliances than love matches – but she wanted the world to know her dedication to her family.

They had a ceremony a few months after the twins' second birthday, a celebration that was supposed to be a small gathering of family and friends, but illustrated how blurred the lines had become. Friends were family and acquaintances were friends and before they knew it, half the camp was standing at in a field at dusk to watch their chancellor and general commit their lives to each other.

Clarke had let Octavia dress her in white and put a crown of daisies in her hair; Bellamy wore a dark suit she hoped was rescued from a bunker rather than Mount Weather. They'd held the twins in their arms, clad in similar shades of white and black, and recited the vows they'd written together. There were no promises to uphold the laws of the Ark or unite people in peace, but simple pledges of love and devotion. It was all about them and their family, just the way they wanted it.

"I pledge to honor and defend you and yours above all others. To be your comfort and your sanctuary," Bellamy had said, blinking furiously to fight back tears.

"To share in blessings and burdens. To be your advocate and your champion. To be your family," Clarke had added tearfully. Her voice was rough with emotion and her hand shook slightly as she cupped Bellamy's cheek.

"To be your family," Bellamy had whispered and given up the fight with his tears. It wasn't the most vulnerable that Clarke had seen him, but it was a rare show of emotion to the rest of the camp, and a collectives sigh had drifted through the field as he kissed her over their babies' heads.

After, they'd danced in the field under the stars, like the pagans in Bellamy's stories, and drank peach wine Monty had made for the occasion. Maya, Harper's daughter, had said her first words and Kane had waltzed with Abby in the moonlight and Clarke had cried happy tears that her children didn't understand, didn't know yet what it was like to live six years on the ground and have so much love in their lives.

That love gives her strength – courage – to live her life on her own terms. "I'm not running for another term."

"Oh yeah?" Bellamy turns so he can meet her eyes. His are warm and familiar in the rapidly darkening night. "Why not?"

She has three years left in her second term and its enough. She's given her time, her youth, her soul to her people – it's time she gets a future of her own. "I didn't want to lead," she says softly. "I'm good at it and people needed me, but I wouldn't choose it for myself."

Bellamy laughs. "Then they'll definitely name the camp after you."

Clarke groans. "Arkadia needs to win." Their little camp is no longer a ragtag cluster of tents and shacks, but a growing, thriving village. The Council voted for a new name to reflect its changing status. "Clarkesville" is currently in second place, and while it's a great honor, she doesn't want a permanent reminder of the things for it.

"Regardless, what will you do with your freedom?" His expression is sympathetic even if he doesn't fully understand. He loves his job, loves learning from Kane and working with new recruits, loves keeping their people safe. He's content with his choice and doesn't want anything else. Clarke wants more. She wants to help her people without hating herself.

"I think I'll start training with my mom again. I was going to be a doctor in the old days. I'm ready to try again."

Bellamy smiles. "I remember that girl. When we met, she yelled at me before I could even say hello."

She swats at him lightly. "You were such an ass back then. Still are."

He kisses her, hot and hard, and smiles against her mouth. "You love it."

"I love you." She opens her mouth and deepens the kiss. They're both breathing hard when they break apart, but if they don't stop, they really might scar their children for life.

"I forgot to tell you," Bellamy says as Clarke settles against his chest. "Murphy says the prophet's on his way back. He doesn't have proof but swears he can sense Jaha's weirdness." He looks pained. "I believe him."

Clarke sighs heavily. "Think he'll try to convert us again?"

"Does he do anything else?" Clarke sighs again and Bellamy laughs. "This too shall pass."

"Always does."

Bellamy's arms tighten around her middle so she falls into the strong, steady weight of him. "We'll figure it out later?"

"Later," she agrees and clasps his hand, so the B&C engraved in their thumbs blend together, and watches their children chase fireflies in the twilight.

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