first fic for this game and it was written mostly bc I absolutely refuse to believe that a woman who presumably had to parkour across rough stone and wood every morning just to get from her bedroom to her dining room would ever have soft skin dkfjghb i'll have more actually thoughtful stuff coming at some point, promise
also I'd forgotten how genuinely sweet and respectful these two's relationship was? (at least until the ending anyway…) guess I'm so used to male protags being complete dicks that I mentally gave the prince that kind of personality, even though outside of a few moments early on (and if I'd just discovered that there's an ancient evil god about to end the world I'd probably be a little rude to the one dragging me into it too) he's always kind and considerate when it comes to Elika, snarky as hell, but he's never actually mean-spirited about it and light teasing/flirting aside he doesn't really push unless she pushes back, honestly I was pleasantly surprised going back after so long!
anyways, hope you enjoy!
"You have such soft hands."
The words were so out-of-nowhere, that she almost stumbled as he gently dropped her to the ground below. She kept her footing though, watching as he released his hold on the narrow ledge to land beside her, only when he turned to face her, did she finally react to the statement – single eyebrow raising and arms crossing.
"Just an observation," he said, ever-present smirk widening as he held up his hands, "no need to look so offended."
Rolling her eyes, Elika looked away, already seeking out the next platform they were to reach. "I'm not offended, just unconvinced." It was quite a distance, but they could make it, scale the wall until they reached that jutting beam, then up again to the ivy, from there it was a short climb and they could drop down with ease.
Just as she was preparing to leap, her companion nudged her shoulder with his, managing to look admirably wounded. "What, you think I'm just trying to butter you up or something, Princess?"
She scoffed, nudging him back before she took a running jump, hardened skin of her feet and hands barely even registering the scrape of rough stone as she clawed her way up, pulling herself to sit on the beam with a restrained grunt. Legs swinging as she settled on her new perch, she leaned down to call out to him, "No, I just think you have no idea what you're talking about."
"Princess, you wound me!" He laughed breathlessly, even as he followed in her footsteps, taking her offered hand. With her help, he pulled himself up to sit next to her. "I am a refined man with much knowledge of skincare!"
Elika didn't even dignify that with a response, carefully rising to her feet, finding her balance before turning to the wall behind her; only a short scramble to the ivy, she could do this in her sleep, just-
The heavy thump against her back almost sent her toppling off the beam, but before she could muster a glare, her partner was leaping away with an impossibly wide grin.
She couldn't hold back the undignified noise of distress as he jumped over a vast, deep nothing below, she barely managed to leap herself, the still unfamiliar burn of magic flowing through her as she caught his arm and propelled him forward again. Letting it carry her to the other side, she reached down to help him clamber the rest of the way onto solid ground.
Both panting heavily, she finally accepted that he was safe and fell onto her back. "You are getting entirely too used to that."
"Hey, gotta take advantage while I've got you around," he said, leaning over her, looking annoyingly exhilarated, "besides, I'm quite liking this whole flying thing, you could make a business out of it! I mean if you're gonna try and rebuild your people it couldn't hurt to draw some new folk in with something fun."
Though the urge to make a comment about his ridiculous ideas was overwhelming, she settled for closing her eyes and shaking her head. Her hair bunched annoyingly against the sand-strewn stone, but she didn't care enough to flatten it back out, just letting her heartbeat slow a little.
Part of her felt guilty for taking the opportunity to catch her breath, their task was far from complete and every moment wasted was a moment Ahriman could use to weaken his prison, but suddenly she was feeling more than just the exhaustion of saving her idiot escort from falling to his death – again – suddenly there were days of movement and tension and stress piling atop her, crushing her chest until she could no longer stretch her lungs, pressing until she would finally become one with the rock beneath h-
A light warmth enfolding her hand jolted her back to reality, eyes snapping open and preparing to push herself to her feet before she saw the cautious, curious fingers gently pulling hers open to run ticklish lines across her palm.
Were it not for the surprisingly warm look in those dark blue eyes, she might've pulled away.
"You know I wasn't kidding, you really do have soft hands," he said, tracing a line from her fingertips to her wrist, mouth quirking slightly in amusement at the way her skin twitched under the touch.
She stared at him, even as the barely-there sensations threatened to make her entire arm start spasming. There were a thousand reasons she should stop him right now, they had a quest to complete, they were in too much danger to risk any distractions, he was a self-admitted scoundrel, they were still relative strangers, her duty must always come before her desires, she didn't want to have to think about how much sense he made at times, it would be cruel to give him hope, give herself hope, when she knew how this whole ordeal would end…
Catching his prodding fingers under hers, she looked up to the beautiful clear sky. "No one has ever said that to me before."
"Well, that's not so surprising, didn't you live in a city with about five other people?"
Not even bothering to look, she pinched the back of his hand, taking just a little pleasure in the yelp he gave. "There were more than five of us. And no one has said it because it's not true-" she pulled her free hand to her face, staring hard at the scars it carried, the patch of hard skin where her thumb met her palm, dry and flaking skin running the entire length of her fingers, "-I have the hands of a climber and fighter – just like you – and I'm content with that."
She wasn't even lying, she'd never much cared for appearance and luxury; not that she didn't take care of her body, but as long as it was healthy she didn't mind how rough and calloused her skin got, in fact it was a good thing, it made the physical activities she regularly performed much less painful.
When more than ten seconds passed with no response, she finally stopped her intent examination and dropped her head enough to find her companion's eyes.
He didn't seem to hear her logic, or maybe just didn't care, judging by the almost… reverent look on his face. Shrugging a shoulder lightly, he didn't quite meet her gaze as he spoke, "That's true, I guess I meant it in a more… metaphorical way."
"How so?" she couldn't help asking, wishing he would look up instead of distractedly messing with her fingers.
"Well," he paused to frown for a second, letting their joined hands drop until they brushed warm stone. "it's like… the way you touch." His head dropped back, staring straight up at the sun, leaning back on his gauntlet-clad arm, though his other hand stayed nestled in hers, thumb idly brushing across her knuckles.
Her brows crinkled as she studied him, trying to glean any insight into what he meant by that, but he was insufferably inscrutable at times. A lot of the time. Pretty much all times.
Before she could pepper him with questions however, his unusually quiet voice grabbed her attention. "It never feels like you're pressing very hard, even when you're dragging me out of thin air, like you're surrounded by this… aura, it's nice, soft and warm, like a blanket-" he snickered, briefly holding his hand up to show his thumb and forefinger spread apart, "-this thick! But it feels sad too, like it keeps anyone from really touching you, even now, there's this distance that I can't seem to cross, as if you're being held back. Or holding yourself back."
Not for the first time, she found herself pondering his true origins; he appeared to be a simple crook, the kind who grew up and thrived on bustling streets, he'd said as much himself, but there were times when he could be so poetic, even philosophical, and she couldn't help but wonder just how proficient an actor he was.
She wanted to say something, confirm his suspicions, deny them, anything, but she couldn't even open her mouth.
If he was bothered by it, he didn't let it show, just shook his head and finally dropped his gaze to meet hers with that crooked grin firmly back in place. "I dunno, maybe it's just the magic, maybe this whole Ahriman business is starting to effect my sleep, probably best we not dwell on it."
Elika could feel the words bubbling under her tongue as her throat finally began to release its constrictive hold, but before she could let them escape the man was up on his feet and dragging her up with him. His smile was bright and his laughter obnoxiously loud as he dropped her hand, fingers slipping away despite how tightly she tried to hold on – was that due to her own 'soft' touch, or his? – she watched his back as he clambered up the wall, effortlessly finding near-invisible cracks to grip.
Only once he reached the nearby ivy did he look down, hand outstretched towards her.
"C'mon Elika, I'm not waiting around all day!"
Sighing, she let her magic flow through and around her, arms wrapping instinctually around his neck. Clinging tight as he shimmied along, she pressed her forehead into his skin and wondered how she'd never noticed how soft it was before.