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It started small, and built slowly.
At first their relationship was utterly uncomplicated. A six word question and a two word answer. A pairing of mostly necessity. The development to stories told over bowls of soup, smiles that were so rare with her being bandied about like they were as common as stones. Goodbyes got wistfuller, greetings more joyful. They could see each other so little, but didn't notice the change until it became undeniably tense.
She had shown up to Meridan to purchase a new bow and trade trinkets. When that business was done and a meal of fresh bread purchased, she walked to the forges that the Oseram had built for themselves. It was late in the evening. Sunlight streamed in and hit the easternmost wall, the two people working in there with their shadows leaping about on the stonework. One was a woman she didn’t know. The other was Erend.
It was too early in the craft to tell what he was making, nothing more than a vague hunk of metal at that point. The bellows he heaved on blew their breath into the forge and made it froth lightly with sparks. He wore no shirt, and sweat dropleted down his back and glistened in the red sunset. Watching him work was mesmerizing.
Aloy was spared having to break his concentration when he turned to wipe his face on a rag and saw her standing in the street. The light framing her head was ethereal. Surprise and soft joy overtook his face. “Aloy!” He tossed the rag onto a bench and came up to her. “I didn’t know you were in Meridian.”
She handed him half of the bread, the loaf torn down the middle. “I just got here a few hours ago. Gonna stay for a few days this time, so I didn’t need to come and interrupt your business.” “My business is over,” he told her. “This is gonna be a new shortsword, but it’s just for fun. The Vanguard doesn’t need me until tomorrow unless there’s an emergency.” “Does that mean you’re free to go get a drink later?” He beamed at her. “It sure does. The Gilded Claw, same as last time? They replaced the furniture from that fight.”
She nodded, chewing and swallowing a bite of her portion. “I can wait until you’re done with this for the evening.” “No no, I can pack it up. I was almost done for the night anyway,” he lied. The metal was set on a worktable, now too cold to be shaped, the tools put away, his sweaty shirt put on, and they set off up the road to the one tavern Oseram really frequented. Status updates were traded between bites. He told her of the peace in Meridian and petty gossip in the Vanguard, and she told him about the movements of the machine herds, and her latest takedowns. The half hour walk across town was over in a moment.
Conversation barely hit a stutter with the greetings from acquaintances and Erend’s friends in the stuffy room. They sipped ale down to dregs and then another round of it. The sun slipped away into the west outside the walls, unbeknownst to them.
“And the bastard did its best, but I got the better of it, for the cost of a whole lot of bruises and this here,” Erend was saying. He proffered his forearm to her witness, a half healed new scar starting at his palm and going almost to his elbow. Aloy took his hand and turned it to face the torchlight. It glinted with delicate new skin.
“This must have bled and bled,” she murmured, tracing it with her fingertips critically. Her other hand was cupping the back of his, cradling it and gently moving him to put the inner wrist forward into the light. Letting go, she looked up and saw a flush in his cheeks, fading back to normal even as she watched. ‘Strange,’ she thought. ‘He’s only had two drinks.’ Out loud she asked, “How long ago was that?” The sight lingered in the back half of her focus.
“Under a month, probably. Good thing it was, too. That lens went for a nice price.” She nodded and drank the last of her second ale. “Another?” Erend asked, getting up to refill his empty tankard and reaching for hers.
“I think I’m done. Could you get me some water?” He dipped into a joking bow and went up to the bar. She watched ponderously as he exchanged friendly barbs with the bartender. Why didn’t she forget about the little blush? It was hot in there anyway, it could have been that. Or it could have been pain he was too nice to tell her about when she was poking his wound, like an idiot. He had pulled his arm back a little faster than would be normal. Stars, she had hurt him, hadn’t she? Aloy winced in regret at the realization and started to think of apologies for when he came back. They went unused as he plunked down their tankards and sat across from another Vanguardsman, a thick, short man who had followed him back from the bar. At Erend’s urging he told her a story, about a wrestling match at the same bar a few nights ago, and she accepted that there would be time for an apology later.
They left The Gilded Claw when Erend had drank enough to stumble. That same amount would have had Aloy flat on her back, she was thinking, elbow linked through his as they walked through the dark streets. The hold was to keep him on track more than support him. He emanated heat in the cool night, and she found herself a bit closer to his side than strictly necessary. All the way to his house he rambled about nothing, to her amused commentary, talking louder than was polite to the people who could surely hear him in their homes. She took the key he offered and let them both in at his doorstep.
Erend walked unsteadily in and flopped on his low couch. “Didn’t ask, Aloy,” he began, “Where’re you staying tonight? Not out in the desert, will you?” She shook her head and then realized he couldn’t really see it in the unlit house. “I’ve got a tent to pitch down in the Village. Machines don’t come around the homes as much, I’ll be safe.” This, apparently, was unsatisfactory. Erend started protesting, “You don’t need to be outside, I mean I know you’d be okay you can kill anything, but you don’ need to. Stay here. I’s warmer here, the sand gets cold at night, Aloy.”
“I’m Nora, in case you forgot,” she said lightly. “Cold doesn’t scare me.” He frowned. Her eyes had adjusted enough to see it was almost a pout, and she held back laughter at his being so serious. “I don’t have to leave right away, if you don’t mind. Do you want a lantern though?”
He brightened immediately. “Yeah, I’ll get one.” He made to stand just to have her hold his shoulders down. “People who smell like ale shouldn’t handle flame. I’ll get it.” No arguing with that, especially when Aloy was saying it. “There’s one on the far wall, an’ a flint on that shelf.” A sweeping gesture pointed her close enough to find it by feel, and she lit the lantern, taking it off the wall hook and setting it on a small table by the couch. She sat next to him in the flickering light.
“Oh, sorry about your arm.” His brow creased in confusion. “When you were showing me your latest scar earlier, I touched it a bit too hard and hurt you, didn’t I?” Erend shook his head decisively. He remembered to dampen his volume before half yelling in her face. “Didn’t hurt me at all. Why d’you think that?” Now it was her turn to be confused. “Your face was a little red, and you pulled back like to get away from me.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t crazy; she saw his face as it shifted a shade redder than the tipsiness had him coloured at first. “You…. You touched me all gentle, is all. I… uh, it kinda surprised me.” Aloy arched a brow at him. “Did you expect me to claw at you?” Waving away the idea, he cast about for a way to say what he meant and not look stupid. “You’re not one for hugs or holding hands all the time, it was unexpected. It… was nice.”
A brief silence. “I see.” Her tone was contemplative, reflecting the consideration that her touch was nice. She was developing a blush of her own. “Can I?” He extended a hand to her, which she slowly took. His rough, thick fingers laced with her slender ones. A short squeeze, and he brushed his thumb over the top of hers. That blush was heating up. “What do you think?” Quiet now, almost reverent, his voice had a gravel to it that made her stomach lurch. “It’s nice,” she said faintly. Why did she feel like this? Was she sick? Tentatively, she squeezed back.
Erend locked eyes with her, making sure all was well and approved as he brought the back of her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her entire body was buzzy and light. He made to let go, and she let him. “Glad you agree,” he smiled. Another moment of interim. Aloy steeled her nerves and reached to run her fingers up the back of his. “Can I?” The question came out breathy. Obligingly, he let her take his hand. She turned it to kiss the tips of his fingers, and the knuckles on each one, cautiously slow but unerring. Erend felt lightheaded in a way that couldn’t be blamed on alcohol. When she stopped, he moved to hold her face, palm cupping her cheek. ‘So warm,’ she thought dizzily, leaning her head into it.
“I like you, Aloy. A lot.”
Liked her. Liked her in a way that enjoyed her touch and wanted to touch her too. A way that had him more tender and sweet right now than she had ever seen him. This was territory she had never trod. Unfamiliar ground that felt nonetheless right, correct. She felt it too.
They had been drawing closer to each other this entire time, slow as syrup, magnetized. Her warm breath wafted across his face, and she tentatively laid her own hand on his cheek. "... I think I like you too." Foreheads touching now, they were too close to be seeing anymore. Erend first, and then Aloy, let their eyes slip closed. Basking in each other's presence. Breathing in each other's air.
"...Is it okay if I kiss you…?" The hushed question nearly trembled. “... Yeah,” she breathed, closing the inch between their mouths. The captain of the Vanguard, protector of the Sun-King, let out a weak little whimper at the soft press of her lips. He kissed her back. And again. And again. They held each other tenuously, kissing ‘til they were breathless, ‘til Aloy pulled back and dropped her head onto his shoulder.
Mentally, she was reeling a bit, wits scattered. Her lips tingled. Erend petted her hand that still held his face, chuckling. The hand what had held her face had landed on her shoulder when she turned away, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze over the hide shirt. “Still feel nice?” he teased, and laughed some more when she silently nodded against him.
“Have you kissed anyone like that before?” she asked. Have you liked anyone before? Is this new to you too?
“Nah, not like that. I’ve never kissed anyone that I actually cared about.” The emotion in her gut was making her nauseous with its strength. He cared about her.
“Is your couch still open to sleep on tonight?” A brief smirk, that he tried and failed to keep from turning into a full grin. “Any night you want.”