Chapter 10

"How far are we from Meridian?" She hated that she had to ask that question. Erend had told her that the Focus was nowhere to be seen at Rath's compound, so she was essentially blind to where she was. It seemed as though they'd been traveling for days, when really, her leg had been reset only the day before. It seemed much better, no longer an unhealthy purple color, but she doubted she'd ever walk without a limp.

Erend had taken to walking next to the broadhead, leading it as it pulled the wagon she was on. He said he didn't like to ride the machines… said it still felt weird. She didn't have much choice than to stay in the wagon. He squinted at some mountains off to their right. "If we push hard, perhaps tomorrow night," he told her. His voice was quiet.

He'd been moody since that morning. She'd woken up arranged in the furs on the wagon, and he'd slept in his armor against the log. She was surprised that moving her didn't wake her with pain. Oseram medicine indeed. "Let's not push hard," she told him warily. Avad's name hung like a cloud over them. Neither wanted the journey, but both knew that the king would be worried for her, and would see to her leg.

Occasionally, they'd stop to eat and drink. He seemed destined to remain on the edge of sobriety, and when he finished one flask, another would magically appear. At least he's not completely drunk, she noted, annoyed. That wouldn't do either of them any good.

Once, and only once, did they run into bandits. They came streaming down from the hills, a pack of ten at least. When he saw them, Erend turned, flinging a fur over Aloy. "Stay down!" He hissed. "You're luggage!"

He seemed prepared to talk his way out of it, despite the alcohol, but it didn't seem the bandits were in a talking mood. Almost instantly, one came barreling towards him, swinging his axe. Erend stepped aside, smashing the man's face into the side of the wagon, making the whole thing shake. "Guess we're skipping the boring part," he yelled, tugging his hammer from next to her in the wagon. Aloy ignored his warning, quickly scrambling to reach for the slowly drooping body of the bandit Erend had dispatched, searching him for weapons. Ah! Blast bombs.

She grabbed a handful, checking Erend's position. He was engaged with several of the bandits already. A few had begun to harass the broadhead, who bucked them out of the way, throwing Aloy to the ground. She cried out in pain, alerting the last of the group, who begun to advance on her.

"Surprise!" She shouted gleefully. Tossing one of the blast bombs, she quickly threw the fur over her head as the fire exploded, shredding three of the bandits. The ones prodding the broadhead turned their attention to her, just as Erend's hammer crashed into the side of one's head, bowling the other two over. Aloy activated another bomb and set it their way, yelling a warning to Erend. He dove aside just as it exploded, filling the air with a loud ringing.

Aloy shook her head, twisting her finger in her ear. She'd never get used to that. "You okay?" Erend asked, panting as he came up to her, shouldering his hammer. He had two arrows sticking out of him, both caught in his armor, but neither of which seemed to bother him. "I told you to hide!"

She merely gave him a bland expression. He should know better. With a grunt, he turned and righted the wagon, tugging on the broadhead to calm it. "Think we'll see any more?" She asked as he lifted her from the ground to replace her in the wagon.

"Doubt it," he admitted, still breathing hard. "We're too close to Meridian. I'm surprised these were even here." He set her down carefully, then straightened and tugged out the arrows protruding from his armor. The one he pulled from his side, close to his back, made him wince.

"One got you?" She asked, frowning as she sat up. She had time to see the red on the arrow tip before he threw it aside.

"Not as bad as it could have been," he told her. "I'll worry about it tonight when we camp."

She watched him carefully as he resumed his place next to the broadhead, once more taking up their journey, satisfying herself that he wasn't showing any signs of serious injury. "You did pretty good yourself, Mudi," she heard him mutter to the Machine, patting it on the head. It ignored him. So he'd named it, she chuckled to herself.

That night, setting up camp was tense and slow. Aloy did her best to help, and hobbled as well as she could on her spear. The pain, eventually, brought her to sit near the fire, where she began to cook dinner from supplies Erend had taken from Rath's. They wouldn't need it for long. Tomorrow night, they'd be in Meridian.

Erend busied himself with firewood, and even set the Broadhead to wander with a gentle pat on its rear before he joined her, back leaning against a mossy outcropping of rock they'd chosen as a sort of bench. Both of them sat in silence, she portioning out the food, he carefully and deliberately removing his armor. So many buckles, she thought, trying her best to focus. It seemed to take him ages. And he slept in all that.

As he untied his boots, she gave him his bowl of thick stew. He looked at it mildly. "You first," she said. "I owe you." He kicked off his boots and turned to take the bowl.

"Damn right you do." He was down to his tunic, and she could see the extent of the damage the arrow had done. Without speaking, she reached out to touch the still-wet stain of red on his shirt. It caused him to choke briefly on his food. "Hey…"

"Eat," she ordered, moving to drag his tunic up and over his head. He carefully set his bowl aside to facilitate, though didn't let it sit for long. There were so many scars. She stared at them for a long while, noting how the more raised ones gave off a longer shadow. His chest was broad, packed with muscle, and his arms lost no bulk from removing his armor.

"Ersa," he explained, pointing at one of the longer slices along his belly. Then he pointed to another. "First bandit raid." Then another. "The 13th Sun King's personal guard." The last looked more like a burn. "First time I tried baking."

She didn't laugh, instead leaning to inspect the arrow wound while he ate. It had been stopped by muscle, but not after it'd penetrated deeply. A bruise surrounded the area, showing just how hard he was hit. Mentally, she thanked his armor.

"You got lucky," she told him gently. He shrugged, finishing off his bowl of stew and handing it off to her. "And you're lucky I'm a pretty good seamstress too."

He rolled his eyes. "Is there anything you're not good at?"

Where do I start, she wanted to ask him, lips tightening. She reached into their pack of supplies, finding a crisply sharp metal needle and piece of cord within. Thankfully, there was some salve left over from her own wound.

"We really are a piece of work, aren't we?" She tells him, moving his arm to give her access to his side. She prepared the needle as best as she could, thankful it was not yet dark. He sat quietly, and even when she began to stitch the inside of his wound, he didn't flinch. He was being tough for her, she noted, a sense of emotion bubbling in her throat. Which emotion, she wasn't sure.

The stitching took a long time. She paused to offer him drinks from his flask. Oseram pain medicine. He turned them down, however, which surprised her. She fashioned a bandage, smearing it with salve, before beginning to wrap it around his torso. She bit her lip, far too aware she had to wrap her arms around him to get it completely around his chest. He chuckled near her face, taking the wrap from her.

"As much as I love feeling your hands on me, you're making it really difficult to remember I've a job to do." He was trying to make a joke, but it hit her hard. She sat up straight.

"What happens if you forget?" She questioned him, keeping her voice as low as his. If he was going to flirt, she was going to learn how to counterattack. He paused in fastening the bandage, looking at her a little strangely.

She sat next to him, arms wrapped around herself. She waited a moment, then looked up. "What happens if I don't make it back to Meridian?"

"Aloy…"

"What happens if this is my last night outside the Palace? My last night of freedom?"

He frowned then. "You're not a captive. You're just… hurt. Avad cares about you. You're everything the people and the city could hope for."

The people. The city. "And you?"

"I'm a nobody, remember? I shouldn't even be…" he gestured at himself. "I don't even deserve to be near you let alone half naked." He reached for his shirt.

She grabbed his hand, glaring at him with her lips tight, before he could reach the cloth. Without a word, she lifted his hand to her face, pressing it against her cheek. It was almost as big as her head. The callouses on his palm were rough and hard, but warm.

Her green eyes opened to see his expression, and it was one of a dam nearly breaking. He held her like something he was afraid to break, or something that would disappear if he was too rough. He should know better. He lifted his other hand, sliding it around her waist, pulling her gingerly closer. She leaned against his chest, a sensation she'd only dreamt of until now, curling to face up towards him. The scars on his stomach felt hot against her shoulder. Suddenly she was burning up. There were too many clothes. She closed her eyes, not letting the memory of Avad's face taint this moment of bliss.

"You're killing me," Erend murmured against her lips before taking them in a kiss. She was prepared for this one, and she could feel his body respond to it like a leaf to the sun. She opened up beneath him, drawing him down against her. She could feel his hands, a faint tremor in them, pressing her tight against him, letting her feel his hunger for everything she was.

Tonight, neither of us will be cold, she told herself.

((AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter edited to keep non-explicit rating.))