Title: Shades of Grey
Author:
Magicallioness
Rating:
K+, but will definitely be going up, probably all the way to M
Warning(s):
no beta.
Beta:
none
Word count:
1.096
Disclaimer:
Anything belonging to the PoP universe belongs Ubisoft and their partners, not me. Anything that's not theirs is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue.
Author's note:
I actually pulled out a map of the ancient Persian Empire for this, found a place called Ashur. Seemed pretty close to Ahura to me, so I decided to place them there. Working with a fictional Persian Empire just wouldn't work, because I have no idea what the area would've looked like.
Summary: Arhiman's prison has been weakened once again, his four chosen re-released upon the world. The second destruction of the Tree of Light and the fight in the temple have caused the structure to collapse, leaving darkness and corruption free to spread across the land, with no fertile grounds to stop it. Now Elika and her prince have to find another way to stop the god of darkness, or face the corruption of the entire world. Picks up right after the ending of the game.

Chapter Summary: "Hey!" she laughs, wiping the wetness out of her eyes. He wants to laugh at her, but doesn't get the change, because she plunges a blue glowing hand into the river...


Chapter 3 Contact

He wakes at the crack of dawn, finding himself protectively curled around Elika, feeling a strange warmth flooding his chest at the way she's buried her head under his chin, her hands folded between their bodies. He strokes the deep brown hair that tickles his neck and cheek before quietly disentangling himself and making his way outside.

Prodding the smouldering pile of ash that was their fire, and throwing on the last branches to get it going again, he lets his gaze drift over the desert: sand, rocks and cacti in all shapes and sizes, the occasional tree, but nothing he recognizes. Still, he knows they should be at the edge of the barren sand, otherwise there would be no fruit-bearing trees here.

He allows himself a satisfied smirk as tiny yellow flames start licking at the dry branches he threw onto the ashes. Now if only they had some water. The juices in the fruits Elika found would keep them going for a while, but if they didn't find a way out of the desert today, thirst would become more than just a nuisance. A shuffling noise from inside the cave distracts him from his thoughts as the princess of the Ahura makes her way into daylight. She brushes off her clothes distractedly as she looks around for any familiar landmarks as well and finds none either. Shivering, she sits down by the fire with a sigh.

"What about you?" she asks as he drapes his long jacket around her shoulders. It has no sleeves and an open front, but it's all he has to offer.

"I'll be fine," he nods as she pulls the brown material around her. He would sit behind her, pull her into his lap to warm her up, but he knows she won't let him -hell, he'd probably be flying across the desert with a black eye to boot – so he resigns himself to a trek back to the tree Elika found and getting them both 'breakfast'.

When he returns she's no longer shivering, but seems comfortable staring into the dancing flames. He hands her some fruits and she gives him back his jacket. Shrugging it back on he's dismayed to find it smells like her. He doesn't know why exactly, but he doesn't like her warm, ginger scent floating around him all day. Commenting on that in any way however, seems like a bad idea; the princess seems to have softened up a bit, but he's a long way from joking around with her again.

"I think we should reach the end of the desert if we keep moving north," he says after breakfast. Taking into account the direction they came from and the position of the sun, it's the best bet he can make.

"You think?" is all Elika has to say to that. There's a kind of sadness hanging over her that he doesn't like. She's preoccupied, easily irritated and has lost all of the positiveness she seemed to posses when they were healing the fertile grounds. It's understandable, yes, but that doesn't mean he has to like it.

"I have no way to be sure, but that's my best bet," his voice is honest. After what he did, there's no sense in bragging, no use for swagger. He might get it back at some point, but right now, he just wants to apologize to her over and over and over. But he doesn't.

"At least it's better then mine," she concludes darkly before setting out in the direction he suggested. If he'd hoped she'd be more talkative than yesterday he's sorely disappointed. Quiet reigns for hours and throws him back into his own world of guilt and confusion. The sun has taken up it's beating on their heads once again, blistering heat slowing down their movements. His expression stays dark and troubled, the scarf back in place, sword at his side. It isn't until he sees a sparkle on the horizon that the mood lightens a bit.

"Do you see that?" he asks, making sure it isn't the sun playing tricks on his vision. But she nods, using a hand to shield her eyes from the sharp light.

"Something sparkling," she comments and he can't help but feel joy bubble up in his chest nor the smile when he tells her that it's water. They pick up the pace and actually run the last part of the way towards the river. Because that's what it is: the Tigris flows quickly and surely through the canyon below.

They climb down over the rocks with practised ease, finding their way and each other's helping hands flawlessly. The first few swallows of water are like heaven on his tongue and he drinks smiling until he's had his fill. A sideways glance reveals an equally joyous smile on the princess' face and suddenly bold, he splashes her with water.

"Hey!" she laughs, wiping the wetness out of her eyes. He wants to laugh at her, but doesn't get the change, because she plunges a blue glowing hand into the river, sending a fountain over his head and leaving him completely drenched. He launches himself at her with a battle cry, intent on dipping her into the water, expecting her to put up a fight. But she's so surprised at his sudden charge that she doesn't react at all and his momentum sends them both into the refreshingly cold liquid. Laughing and spluttering, they climb back onto the riverbank, flopping onto their backs side by side, trying to catch their breaths. It's not until his hand accidentally brushes against hers, that they come crashing back to reality.

She gets up so fast she almost slips on the still slightly wet rocks making up the riverbank, and, ignoring the disappointment in his eyes, she turns around.

"We should get going." He gets up more slowly; taking his time to recover from the sudden mood swing and hating that it had to be the physical contact between them that caused such a reaction. She had been sleeping contently in his arms just this morning, dammit.

"If we head upriver, we should reach Nineveh before nightfall," he explains, ignoring his own feeling of loss at the way she once again pulls away from him. Or perhaps not quite, because this time she doesn't walk away from him, but waits for him to lead the way.