Edit (17/09/2018): Due to site regulations, the story had been edited to third person female pronoun. If you want the original version it's still posted on Archieve of Our Own under the same name. I will also put a link to my Ao3 profile on my bio so that it's easier to follow.
She knew Erik in a way that she didn't know the others. They were both lone wolves, he had admitted it himself to Hero at one point on their journey and she always felt more at peace when in her own company. They were also both not all that emotionally competent. Displaying emotions wasn't their forte, not unless they were that of annoyance or anger. Thankfully the journey was helping.
She wasn't surprised with the way he picked to show his interest. Their were both private people, not prone to hugs or casual touches. He had simply sat down next to her in camp, their backs facing the fire and she had felt his hand slip over hers, his fingers light and unassuming. She knew that he didn't have any deeper feelings for her, interest yes, love no. If she pulled away now he wouldn't be hurt, he would understand and back off. But she hadn't. She stayed as she was, leaning against a pile of firewood, the fire at her back making her drowsy and content with a full tummy. She was happy to accept his touch and his interest because if she was honest, she was a bit interested, too. He was a good man and he cared about all of the members of the group in his own gruff protective way.
Not much changed after that, not for a while. Again, they were private people. Their touches were chaste and usually only occurred at night when they could afford the distraction, a bare brush of hands, tangling fingers when no one was paying too much attention to them, she doubted anyone but Sylvando had noticed it at this point. They didn't kiss, they didn't cuddle or even sleep next to each other but they both found their way of showing their growing interest. A brush of her fingers on his wrist, a hand to help her hike a steeper path, the way their shoulders brushed when they sat together by the fire. It was simple but it worked.
Their first kiss wasn't surprising, or unexpected but that didn't make it any less pleasant. The group had separated to explore the 'city of the week' and the both of them had ended up in a narrow alley, wet lips gliding freely against each other, nothing that would get them punished for indecency but also not something they wanted to share with everyone else. It was slow and lacking in fitness but sweet like the most precious of Gondolian cakes, there was no tongue but she didn't feel like there needed to be, it was just a kiss shared by two people who wanted to enjoy each other in an innocent way. One of her hands was held in his, neither was sweaty or trembling but the warmth in her chest was almost better.
They didn't do it again but they became bolder in their touches, they rarely sat apart in camp now, his hand found the small of her back more often, her head leaned on his shoulder at times in an almost cuddle. Just two people growing confident in their affection and their emotions.
They weren't demanding from each other and it worked for them. The slow, hesitant way with which they learned how to love was beautiful on its own.
The next time they kissed her hands roamed a little, stroking the only skin she could find, she pushed her fingers into his sleeves for the soft skin of his wrists and forearms. His had been satisfied to stroke the skin of her sides in lazy circles. It brought pleasant shivers down her spine. It was the first time their tongues touched, the sweetness of his mouth tempting her to taste deeper. He responded in kind. Clumsy but eager, a hesitant brush of wet hot tongue on her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth.
That night when the group was camping a few miles away from the city, she had dared to burrow close to his side, her legs throw over his own sideways as she tucked her head against his arm. Their position was mostly hidden by the pile of firewood and he didn't seem to mind. One of his hands tucked around her legs, stroking the skin by her ankles. It was honestly disgustingly sweet, the kind of action she couldn't imagine herself doing a few weeks back. She fell asleep like that that night, burrowing into his warmth without a care in the world and when she woke up he was still there, arm wrapped loosely around her waist, head bowed against hers. Blue hair tangled with hers. She had tangled her fingers in that hair and stroked. Everyone else was still asleep around them. In a moment of unusual boldness, she had tilted her head, slotting her lips against his in a sleepy sweet kiss. He didn't respond at first, despite being a light sleeper but soon the warmth on his lips must have roused him enough because she felt his lips pucker, responding to the kiss in a clumsy, barely awake way.
It became a morning ritual of sorts, if she awake first and no one else was awake, she would bend over his sleeping form and gently slide her lips across his skin. It wasn't always on his lips, sometimes he would awake with her tongue on the shell of his ear or her mouth on his bare nape. In turn, he paid her back with a hand running through her hair or a hot mouth on her collarbones. She liked those rare mornings a lot.
It was only natural then that as days and weeks passed they would want more. And she desperately wanted more. She wanted to run her hands through the lean muscles of his lithe form, she wanted to finally feel her bare skin on his. The heat shared between their stares was like something hungry and alive, it scorched her from the inside out, many a night her felt it low in her belly, a want for a touch only she had ever provided. And she knew he wanted it too, it was in the way his fingers dug into her hips when they found a discreet spot for a longer makeup session, in the face he made when her hands pawed at his clothes. More than once, she had woken to his mouth on her neck, his chest plastered to her back and a distinctive pressure against her behind.
The dam of lust between them finally broke at the next city they visited. No surprise, all they needed was a safe place and an excuse to disappear for a few hours.
What she hadn't however expected was his body pinning hers to the door of their room. His chest was to her back, she had just closed and locked the door, she wasn't expecting him to grab her hands and pin her there, his mouth a hot panting mess upon her neck.
He whispered her name like a prayer and she felt her knees grow weak as his hands slipped inside her light armour. Just like his lips had, his fingers fumbled but he was a quick study and he was eager, every sound from her mouth only spurred him faster, deeper, harder. It took entirely too little time for him to have her clawing at the door, snapping her hips with desperate abandon, seeking her pleasure from his fingers.
She didn't know long they had spent on that room but when she awoke from her exhausted nap her body was littered with marks, dark fingers on her thighs and hips, red raw looking bite marks around her throat and chest, her sex felt sore and disgustingly wet. She was sticky everywhere but so was he and from what she could see of his back she hadn't let him escape unscathed either.
He looked so much gentler when he slept, his expression slack and sweet. She had realized then that she could come to love him if she didn't already. For a brief moment, she dreaded the end of their journey.
This reason that had brought them all together, it would come to an end one day. She could only hope that these tender feelings they shared would be strong enough to keep her and her gruff yet gentle lover together. For she was almost sure that his nimble fingers had stolen her heart and she wasn't so sure she ever wanted it back.