Princess Clarke stared at her reflection in the mirror. The day was finally here, the day she had been preparing for throughout the first nineteen years of her life. It was the day where a thousand of her dreams would be shattered and molded into one horrid destined path she was forced to follow.

Today she would become a Queen.

And not just any Queen, but a Queen to a total stranger from a neighboring Kingdom. Being a highborn Princess of the Sky people, she was forced to marry for an alliance that would keep the peace. Her mother, Queen Abigail, had arranged this union since she was a child. When Clarke became of age, she and Prince Finn would join their houses and rule the Sky People together as one, creating a new era and powerful dynasty. The affluence of the noble Collins family would strengthen the crown and increase military defense against the blood-thirsty Grounders, making them invincible against those who dwelled in the darkness beyond the castle walls.

Tonight their union would be solidified at the Unity Day Ball at the stroke of midnight, and there was nothing the Princess could do about it. The last time she had met with Finn face to face they were merely children, but now that the years had passed, Clarke seemed to only know Prince Finn from rumors and whispers from court, handmaidens and her ladies in waiting. He was handsome and kind, however, he had quite the reputation when it came to women. He was the kind of prince that girls would swoon at the sight of, and it was obvious he took full advantage of the perks that came along with his position. If Clarke weren't mistaken, she was sure that Finn already had mistresses lining up to warm his bed until their own wedding night.

Clarke adjusted a pesky stray strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear. Then, suddenly, she heard the slow creak of her bedroom door, followed by a familiar voice which she welcomed with a warm smile of relief upon seeing her Father.

"How are you feeling?" The King, questioned. His blue eyes gleamed brightly with pride at his beautiful only daughter.

"Nervous." She admitted, fidgeting with the waist of her dress. She wanted to say nauseous, but feared the mere sound of the word might ruin her expensive gown.

"You do not need to be. You look beautiful tonight, Clarke." He said. The Princess wanted to smile at him to give him a confident response, but she could not bring herself to do it. Not tonight.

"I just don't think I am ready to be a Queen." At least not Finn's, she thought. "What if the Kingdom places their trust in the wrong person?" She said, taking a shaky breath in, turning back to the mirror to face her reflection once more, gently brushing her loose blonde curls and twirling it with her polished fingertips. She had to admit, she truly did look like a princess tonight. Her light blue dress dragged gently along the floor as she attempted to adjust her abnormally tight corset.

"You will make a great leader." The King placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring look. Clarke returned his stare and blinked up at him like a small child, comforted and terrified at the same time. "How can you be so sure?" She asked, her voice no more than a faint whisper.

"Because you are my daughter. I know your what is in your mind and in your heart."

"I'm glad," Clarke confessed, "because I'm not sure I do."

The King walked over to the nearest window and opened the white sheer curtains. A swift nightly breeze blew against Clarke's face as the night sky shimmered in her eyes. In that moment Clarke did not care if the cool breeze tangled her hair, nor did she care if she would be late to the Unity Day Ball. Clarke felt comforted and found a sense of belonging by her Father's side and dared not move.

"If you look over to the right," the King pointed just over the dark silhouetted trees, "there is a light coming from the North."

Clarke did her best to follow her father's direction. Her light blue eyes examined the black sky until she spotted a bright speck out of the corner of her eye. Faint and far away the light burned, low on the horizon, shining through the mist and fog from the forest. She took a gentle breath in upon finding the Northern light. "It looks like a star," she observed.

"It is the star of home." said the King. "No matter where you may end up, no matter how lost you find yourself, follow the star and you can find your way back here." Clarke knew some of the common folk liked to wish on stars, they took it for a good omen. If it worked on them, could it work on her too? Even if a star could grant such a blessing, Princess Clarke did not know what to wish for any more than she knew what awaited her beneath that distant burning star.

She had nothing but selfish wishes, she realized. Selfish and foolish insecurities that only seemed to pull her down deeper into the ocean in which she found herself drowning in. Her responsibly was to marry, to live in comfort far from the dangerous forest borders and bare heirs for her husband. She would produce sons and live under protection from her husband- but how could she do that if she did not even know who her husband truly was?

Clarke sheepishly gazed up at the burning star of the North and closed her eyes. She knew now exactly what she wanted to wish for. She knew it was wrong to put her own selfish desires ahead of the good of the kingdom, but in this innocent case of superstition, she made an exception. Don't make me marry Prince Finn, She begged the star, I wish not to be a bride tonight.

Suddenly, as if her wish had really worked, one of her father's soldiers burst through her chamber doors with blood on his uniform and worry in his eyes. "Sire!" He yelled with alarm, "There are Grounders on our borders! They are trying to attack our villages!"

"How many of them are there?" The King demanded.

"At least a hundred." The man struggled to get out his words, gasping for air.

When her father took a step towards the door, Clarke grabbed his arm gently. They locked eyes for a long moment, blue on crystal blue and somehow they knew exactly what the other was thinking. Clarke's pleading stare begged him with every inch of her being not to leave her, the Grounders were killers, trained warriors born to fight and slaughter the Sky People. An entire Grounder army would wreak unimaginable disastrous damage.

"Don't go." Clarke's voice cracked.

However, regardless of his daughter's pleas, he had to do his duty as King and protector of the realm. "Don't worry," he kissed the top of her head. "I'll be back tonight before midnight, save me the last dance at the Ball." Then the King left, and Clarke could do nothing but let go of his arm, watching him leave with the other soldiers to fight off the army of Grounders that awaited them. The Sky army had never lost a battle against the Grounders and had held their castle for a thousand years! Surely they would be victorious over the Grounders, right?

Then the silence had a song of its own, a deadly tune that Clarke just could not shake out of her head. She heard it as a counterpoint to the frightened pounding of her own blood; then the shuffling of heavy boots running past her door with haste. She felt her heart beating fast with rapid terror as she shut her curtains and headed to her mother's chambers to continue getting ready for the Ball. However, as Clarke replayed the memory of her father leaving, she did not know that he would never return to her again.

The news of the King's death reached the ends of the Kingdom. The people grieved for their beloved King, dying to protect his kingdom from the savages who wished to kill any living thing that threatened their existence. King Jake would be remembered as a hero, a hero giving his life so that others may live in his place. Clarke did not understand it, they had plenty of soldiers and warriors that were capable to fight - yet her father had to pay the ultimate price.

The common people wondered if his death had been quick and painless, but not as much as they wondered what would happen to the rest of the royal family now that the King was dead.

Princess Clarke had broken off her engagement to Prince Finn and refused to be consoled by anyone- even her own mother. She had gotten her wish that dreadful, tragic night, and when the news arrived that the King had fallen just before midnight, Clarke had locked herself in her chambers and refused to come out for anyone. The Princess did not eat nor sleep, the only bit of her strength allowed her to open her window and stare off at the Star of Home, wishing that night had been a nightmare she could wake up from. However, as time passed, the pain became almost tolerable to live with. The Princess and Queen's grief became sadness, and the sadness became anger. The Sky Kingdom's soldiers were ordered to kill any Grounder they saw on sight without hesitation or exceptions. If the Grounders wanted war, they would surely receive it.

4 months later...

Queen Abigail and Princess Clarke sat on their thrones made of iron and steel before the court. They both wore a crown upon their head and a scowl on their face. The four month anniversary of the King's death had arrived and between her intense emotions and her tight corset, Clarke couldn't decide whether to scream or cry. Sometimes she felt as if she could do both simultaneously.

Members of the royal court took turns coming up and approaching the thrones, repeating the same routine mannerisms. First, they would stand straight until it was time to bow, then they would avoid eye contact, express their condolences and then kiss Queen Abigail's hand before scurrying off towards the buffet of food in the kitchens. It was Markus Kane, the hand of the King, who broke this repetitive pattern.

Kane was a dark haired handsome man, a friend to the King with extremely loyalty to the crown. Clarke truly believed that if her mother asked him to cut off his arm for her, he would do it without hesitation. He approached Abigail and kissed her hand. "The King would truly be proud of the ruler you have become, Abby." Kane bowed his head low, then rose up, keeping the Queen's gaze.

"Thank you, Markus." She gave him a faint smile, "We are appreciative for your sympathies."

Next to approach the throne was a hooded figure which Clarke did not recognize. She was familiar with most of their staff, considering half of them had begged her to come out of her room for the past four months. On the left of his uniform he wore a dark badge with a gold sun shining on it, the Kingdom's crest, this was the Queen's Captain of the Guard.

"Your Highness," The Captain said, straightening from a low bow as he removed his hood. Bellamy Blake was not excessively handsome, yet Clarke couldn't help but find the ruggedness and the clarity of his light honey-brown eyes rather appealing. "You summoned me, your Grace?"

"Indeed." Abby narrowed her eyes at the him. "I want you to double patrols and make sure those Grounders are getting everything they deserve." Bellamy raised his eyes at her, never breaking eye contact. "It is done." Then swiftly and clearly he asked, "do you have any more commands?"

"I'll let you know if I think of any." The Queen gave Bellamy a look of dismissal. Then the Captain of the Guard once again gave a respectful bow to both the Queen and the Princess and grimaced as he walked out of the Main Hall. Clarke cocked her head, knowing that she must stay poised and sophisticated in such a time as this.

The ladies and gentlemen of the court were lined up with either a concern, a complaint or they were attempting to give their condolences for the King's early passing. Clarke raised her eyebrows at all the people before her, but it wasn't because she was amused or interested in anything they had to say. Her father was dead, he had been killed by the savages that lived deep in the forests, and sitting on her throne with a golden crown upon her head was not going to solve anything.

Then, something caught the Princess's attention. Through the window she could see two soldiers training out in the courtyard. The men were swift and fast and it became obvious who the mentor and the apprentice was. The apprentice swung his sword with all his might, but it was deflected by the mentor, and the apprentice was forced to the ground. He scurried on his side until the castle walls were very close behind him, attempting to retreat, but the mentor in black and blue continued advancing. He then lifted his arm, countering with his sharp steel sword and the mentor blocked it.

It was almost like a dance, Clarke observed, the way their bodies moved around one another, stalking, waiting to be challenged. She had few opportunities to see men fighting like this. It intrigued and fascinated her. Those were the protectors of the castle and Clarke wanted to be there fighting alongside with them. She had everything, except the desire to be a princess. She wanted to be free from her duties and train to be a warrior, just like her father.

Clarke knew that sitting around with a crown on her head would accomplish nothing, but this, learning to fight and defend might. If she learned anything over the past years, it was that her art of persuasion could be used to manipulate the Queen into getting her way, yet she never fully understood what she had truly wanted. But now she knew. Clarke wanted to join the Guard and there was just one thing standing in her way: Her mother.

Once the meetings and endless conversations were over, it was time to Clarke to return to her chambers for the night. The Princess knew she had to present her argument quick and smoothly to get any form of results. She also had to wait for the right exact moment to do so.

Abby and Clarke walked down the Great Hall in silence, their long and beautiful dresses trailing behind them. Clarke picked up her skirts to allow herself to discretely catch up with her mother. Now, the princess told herself, you have her alone. Ask her.

Clarke gulped, suddenly feeling the pressure that hadn't weighed her down in her mind. This might be the only chance you will have in a while without guards and others breathing down your neck at every move. Do it. She gulped again, building up her courage before she finally stopped in the middle of the hall and shut her eyes. "I want to learn how fight," the Princess's voice was low, but confident. The Queen kept her head upright and still, then without even daring to make eye contact with her daughter, Abby replied, "absolutely not."

Her answer made Clarke snort. "If I were born a boy would your answer be different?"

"It is not your place." The Queen said, calmly. "Your place is ruling this kingdom alongside me."

"My place is defending my people" Clarke challenged. "I want to train to become a warrior, just like Father was! No longer will I cower in my chambers like the rest of the ladies in court. I am going to be Queen one day. Our people need someone they can count on, someone that will pick up a sword and fight with them in times of war."

"Clarke-" Abby began.

"Please." Clarke begged, "I am almost nineteen. If I am to become Queen someday I want to learn how to lead my people."

"There are plenty of ways to rule a kingdom without fighting."

"Then I will not call myself Queen." Clarke narrowed her gaze, her face becoming desperate. "After father died you told me that if I needed anything you would be there for me, we promised that we would be there for each other." She spoke, reaching out her hand towards her mother.

Queen Abigail searched her daughters determined eyes of some kind of explanation to this sudden desire. It had been true, there was a point where Abby thought that her daughter may never return to the same place she was before the King passed away, but tonight, she had seen the same fire that burned the night of the Unity Day Ball. If Clarke trained to defend herself it might be a good thing, she would not necessarily have to fight on the front lines against the Grounders. "Alright." She finally spoke, and Clarke almost did not believe her ears. "You shall train to learn how to fight, but with one condition." The Queen finished.

"What might that be?" Clarke raised a brow, but she had to keep herself from smiling.

"I get to choose your trainer"

"Great," Clarke agreed, "I've heard Master Sybil is an excellent mentor."

"I have already selected your mentor." Abby spoke. "I have chosen the Captain of my Guard, Bellamy Blake to train you."

"The Captain of the Guard?" Clarke nearly whined. "He's not one of our warriors!" She protested. And he will do anything you tell him to, she thought.

"I believe he will make a very amiable mentor, his bravery and courage are honorary around the people of this Kingdom." Abby explained, "I will inform him that three days a week you will have a training session in the morning, but I fully expect you to continue your courtly duties and responsibilities in addition."

Clarke nodded eagerly. It was more than fair, and for the first time in what seemed to be forever, the Princess wrapped her arms around her mother. "Thank you." Clarke whispered.

Training to fight would not bring her father back, nor would it be able to put her back to the same girl she was the night of the Unity Day Ball. Instead it would get her something she desired very strongly in her heart: vengeance.

Clarke was arranged to meet with this mysterious Captain of the Guard that very afternoon. She was eager to begin her training, eager to learn hundreds of ways to kill Grounders. As Clarke entered one of the empty stables, she saw a boy, perhaps a few years older than she sitting on top of a hay bale sharpening his sword. As the Princess came closer, she saw the intense look on the Captain's face as he placed the sharpening stone alongside his blade in a quick but calm stroke.

Bellamy heard her footsteps and immediately got up and gave her a low courtesy bow. "Princess." He addressed her.

"Captain." She answered, politely. This was the man her mother wanted to train her? He was barely older than she!

"Is that what I'm going to be fighting with?" She gestured towards his blunt dull sword. "That thing could hardly cut butter!"

Bellamy turned and looked up at her. The common people of the Sky Kingdom spoke of the Princess' beauty and intelligence, and though she was very beautiful, Bellamy knew that she still had a lot to learn about swordsmanship and battle. "No." He responded, quickly. "For the first few lessons you will be using oak."

"Is that a name of one of the great swords?" Clarke' eyes lit up, filled with wonder and curiosity. She knew that all the best and legendary swords had been named, perhaps this oak had seen many battles-

"No." The Captain replied once more, slowly reaching out an extended arm to pick up an oak branch that lay beside the hay. He gently tossed it over to her and it rolled until it was in front of her feet. "This is what I meant by oak." He clarified.

"A stick?" Clarke stared at the thick branch that lay before her. "Excuse me if I'm wrong Captain, but aren't warriors supposed to use.. real swords?" She inquired.

"That is correct, however, you are not a warrior, thus, you will not be using a real sword." Bellamy grimaced, "not until you are ready."

"What if I am ready?" Clarke challenged, impatiently.

"By the looks of your apparel, I would say that you still have a lot to learn. You cannot fight in a dress, Princess, you will be tripping and falling all over the place."

She looked down at her long dress, which dragged along the floor. "I told my handmaiden not to make my hem so long, but she just doesn't listen." The Princess argued her in defense. "Usually the hem is the easiest place to sew a dress-"

"I don't really want to hear about it." Bellamy interrupted her as politely as he could. "You aren't very friendly." She said through her teeth, if she were to get under his skin she would have to push a lot harder. "Aren't you suppose to do anything I ask?"

"I'm supposed to do whatever the Queen asks." He tried to put a little emphasis at the end of his sentence. Clarke growled and crinkled her nose, letting out a sigh. She watched him as he continued to sharpen his blade. "How did you become Captain of the Guard, you must be working all the time, don't you have a family?"

"My personal life is none of your concern." He answered, bluntly.

She clicked her tongue and crossed her arms over her chest. "Well then, how highborn are you?"

"I get by." Bellamy lifted his chin almost imperceptibly higher.

"What are you, a Duke's son?" She questioned, curiously.

"No."

"A Lord then?" She inquired, to which he made no comment. Clarke then smiled softly. "Lord Bellamy Blake." She fanned herself with a hand. "How all the court ladies must swoon over you!"

"Don't call me that. I am not a Lord." He quietly hissed, just loud enough that she could hear him. For a brief moment Clarke could have sworn that the Captain looked rather embarrassed, being interviewed so thoroughly, but that's what made it all the more amusing. "I thought you said you were well born?"

"I said I get by." He answered. wishing that she would stop asking such questions.

"Then why don't you bear a title?" Again he gave no response, she had to stop prying, but she couldn't help it. He was the first normal non-servant she had spoken with in long time. Perhaps she could get him in trouble for denying her his secrets, after all, he was speaking with a princess.

"Was it a scandal?" she finally said, unable to control her curiousness, "a deprived birthright? Is this the kind of messy intrigue you are involved with?"

Bellamy's lips were pressed together so tight that they began to turn white. But Clarke did not care. Her mother had refused to give out any information on her new mentor, and now she was beginning to wonder why. "So, Captain," she began once more, a grin forming on her lips, "how old were you when you became Captain of the Guard?"

"Twenty-one." He finally answered her before throwing his bags over his broad shoulders and headed towards the exit. "Wait" she called, and he instantly stopped in his tracks, begging himself to be as civil as possible towards the princess. "Aren't you suppose to train me to fight?" She questioned.

Bellamy breathed out and nodded. As much as he resented her for all her constant and irritating questions, she was the princess and he were to treat her as one, even if he wanted to rip her tongue out. At last he turned to look at her, "meet me here at dawn and I will teach you to be a true warrior."

Bellamy returned to his home after a very exhausting day. He made sure no one watched him enter the slums he called a home. It wasn't much, but it was somewhat comfortable and secluded from the rest of the town. He kicked off his boots to reveal his aching and bruised feet.

"Big brother, you're home!" The sound of his younger sister echoed throughout the house. He felt terrible that use all day, doing nothing but catching glimpse out the window. Octavia Blake smiled and hugged her brother tightly, "I've been so bored here without someone to entertain me."

He smiled back at her. The law in the Kingdom was very clear. Each mother was allowed to bear one child and one child only, if they found out about Octavia- they would kill her. He vowed the day his mother died in childbirth that he would watch over her no matter what happened. That's why he had joined the guard, that way when house checks came, he knew exactly when they were. Who would ever suspect the Captain of the Guard to be hiding such an illegal secret?

However, a new obstacle had arrived today. When the Queen personally asked him to train her daughter, he could not refuse. It was an honor and showed how much the crown trusted him. What he did not expect was Princess Clarke's never ending series of questions. He could not answer to the fact that he wasn't well born, him and Octavia were far from it. He wasn't born with any rank at all, his mother had been a commoner who worked in a tavern and had him and Octavia out of wedlock. In fact, if he hadn't found a spot in the guard when he was nineteen, who knew where they would of ended up.

Though he became a figure of authority, his heart still pounded twice as fast during every house check. Bellamy's biggest fear was that Octavia would be discovered by the other guards and she would be taken away from him, just as his mother had been taken from him at such a young age. If that happened, he would be stripped of his badge, and everything he had worked so hard to achieve.

Bellamy Blake would risk everything for his sister, and no matter what, Octavia would never be taken away from him. And training the Princess of the Sky Kingdom would not make hiding his secrets any easier. He had to train the Princess to fight, teach her how to defend not just herself, but the kingdom around her, and that would make tomorrow so much harder.

Hey everybody! So I've been thinking about doing a Bellarke fanfic for a while and finally decided to do one! I will continue on with my other stories as well and will continue to update as much as I can. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Disclaimer: I do not own the 100, if I did Bellarke would be canon already in the show. I also do not own the wonderful book known as Throne of Glass in which some chapters are based off of! Hope you enjoy! Leave a review and let me know what you think of the story!