Disclaimer: I don't own The 100. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: This is set around the idea of Grounder!Marcus. Basically, the Ark never had a Marcus Kane, and because of that, fell to earth a few years earlier than the Ark did canonically. Otherwise almost everything else is the same, Jake was still floated, Clarke was sent down with the 100. So consider this an au version that fits in currently with late season two and early season three – brokering peace, etc. Grounder!Marcus is very much the same as Ark!Marcus, he is the leader of his clan and very interested in peace with the Sky People, spending much of his time with Abby at Arkadia. – This is a prompt fill fic. Anon on tumblr asked for: "I feel like there needs to be a fic of Marcus feeling Abby's eyes on him checking him out, so as soon as everyone's gone he's pushing her against the wall. For science :):)."

Warnings: Sexual content, oral sex, mild language, wall sex, pwp basically and some self-service as the author imagines grounder!marcus.

Incalescent

"I have ensured that your request to join the Coalition has been heard. A journey to Polis within the next week is expected of you if you wish to enter talks with the Commander," Marcus affirmed, expressive hands scarred and harshly calloused as he steepled them across the table in front of him.

"This is about respect. Lexa believes you and your people are worthy of the title, but until her decision is made you are still outsiders. We have worked hard together to get to this point, but to become part of the clans is no small thing. You must be sure this is the path your people wish to tread, for it cannot be cast aside lightly. It becomes a part of you," he asserted, inadvertently drawing the eyes of the room to where his long-healed brand shone tanned-pink and slightly raised across the inner of his arm.

It was the same one he had shown her the last time they'd met in an effort to explain how their ways differed from the shifting loyalties that'd governed them in the Ark. Even if Lexa were to fall, they would still be answerable to the Coalition – their loyalty to the new successor would still be expected. Leadership comes and goes, they knew that well enough. But the peace they were trying to usher in? It had to be built on a foundation that would last.

The quiet brutality of that truth stuck with her as the meeting progressed.

Everything between them - between their two peoples - had been hard won from the start.

It reminded her of the first time she'd laid eyes on him. The newly crowned leader of the Trikru, handpicked by the Commander herself. Renowned in his clan not only for his skills in battle, but his prowess in the political arena. A born diplomat, as it were. Something Octavia had whispered to her second-hand from Indra's lips as the entire camp watched him approach on horseback.

It had been an imposing sight, despite only bringing a four-man escort. Unexpected as well considering Indra had been closed-lipped about whether he would continue the trend of animosity and outright conflict that seemed to dominate their interactions with the grounders up until that point. But from the moment she saw him, dark hair long and kissing his bare shoulders in loose curls - save for a cluster of thin braids on either side interwoven with fine strands of copper and paper-thin steel - she knew she was looking at something special.

She wasn't exaggerating when she said he turned heads. He was mature, impressive – and yes, undeniably handsome. Preferring twinned blades sheathed on either hip and tunic-thin armor she'd seen deflect an arrow bolt clean to the side. Something she found out later was a gift from the leader of the Rock Line Clan for uncovering an Ice Nation plot to incite rebellion amongst her people. But it had always been the inner that had drawn her firmly in. There was a quiet, tempered part to him she connected with immediately. And while she'd seen him fight, having been shoved safely behind him on more than one occasion as he drew his blades – eyes smudged dark with black kohl and returning to her with blood pebbled across his skin – that aura remained.

She allowed the other council-members their freedom to lead the conversation. Preferring to sit quietly and watch him speak as she cycled through her memories. Lingering over the ones she liked best as she remembered the subtle play of the muscles underneath his skin when she'd curled her hand in his.

A handshake.

It had been one of the first things she'd taught him about their people after he'd swung himself off his horse and stepped forward to meet her. Strides long and purposeful, barely flicking an eye as the guards on either side of her tensed in place. But when she'd extended her hand, he'd been shocked by it. She could tell. The intimacy of it was foreign to him. Almost as foreign as having to guide someone through the gesture itself.

But from then on, it seemed like they never stopped touching one another.


It wasn't until she looked up again and found him staring back at her – eyes intense and just shy of challenging - that she realized she'd been caught.


"Abby," he uttered hoarsely, easy and righteous in every way a thing could be exactly that when they came together. Sending her chair shooting out from underneath her as he crowded close. Taking each other in as she watched him watch her. The visible calm before the storm as her breasts heaved, tremulous and hopeful before-

The name issued out like a benediction - a prayer - when he finally curled a hand into her hair. The act itself was surprisingly gentle, reverent. Absolutely nothing like the violent hitch that ended with her back slammed up against the council-room wall half a second later. Sending her reeling with the mismatched sensations until he bared his teeth at her and everything else blanked out.

"If you think me blind, you are mistaken," he thrummed, voice gratifyingly unsteady as she breathed him in. Burying her face into the thickness of his hair as her fingers trailed through the shoulder-length curls. "I know where your eyes stray."

Somewhere out in the hall, Sinclair and Jackson were waiting for her. Probably Marcus' people as well. It had raised eyebrows between both parties when he'd abruptly called an end to the meeting and requested a private audience with her. She wanted to say she was surprised with the turnaround but honestly, after her daydreaming, she wasn't. The fact that Marcus seemed to be in agreement was just the icing on the proverbial soy cake, as far as she was concerned.

"I have thought of this for so long, but I never dared to think-"

She hissed a breath between kisses when he abandoned words in favor of plushing his lips down the curve of her hip. Licking downward with every bit of skin he exposed along the way. Her arced as much as she could in his grip, overstimulated as he devoted every inch of himself to making her sing.

He never once touched his cock. Even going so far as to arrow her hands away whenever she tried to reach between them. Instead, he let it rub, fully-clothed against the inner of her thighs. Driving her half-mad with the friction, while at the same time teasing her folds with teeth and tongue. Laving gentle bites that made her groan low in her throat when he sunk to his knees and grabbed her hips in both hands. Jutting them out so that he could get between them and have her in earnest.

Her legs trembled, gasping into the humid, recycled air as his tongue flicked her clit. Learning quickly what she liked and didn't - attentive and adjusting in real time as her slacks pooled around her ankles. Keeping her hobbled and close as the wet sound of her own pleasure echoed damningly loud in the empty room.

Honestly, it was devastating.

The way he loved her?

Nothing in her experience had prepared her for it.

It was a familiar act made vigorously new and appealing under his care.

Something that made her reckless.

Wanton.

Transporting her back to some schism in time and space where she wasn't the Chancellor. Where she wasn't responsible for hundreds of lives hanging in the balance of every decision she made. Where she wasn't still caught up in the terms and conditions that would broker the hard won peace between their peoples. That she was back to being the person she'd been before the Ark had fallen out of the sky. Before Jake had been floated and Clarke had been born. Before-

He smothered her scream with the blunt of his palm when she came. Easing her through it as he gentled the movements of his fingers and tongue into lingering increments. Bringing her safely down to earth as he trailed a quieting hand down the curve of her hip. The hand was slick against the sweat of her skin, smelling distinctly of her as he rested his forehead across the trembling-trim of her belly and breathed.

"Well," she cracked, voice pleasure wrecked from panting as she looked down at him with a growing smile. Feeling a surprisingly shy little fluttering in her belly as he rubbed the rough of his stubble across her skin. Marking it wholly as if she bore the same brand on her arm as he did. "If this is the result of a bit of staring, I know what I'll be doing next meeting."

That was the first time she made Marcus Kane kom Trikru laugh.

Thankfully, it wasn't the last.


A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.

Reference:

- The title, "incalescent" is a word meaning: "growing hotter or more ardent; set ablaze."