(Author's Note: I know you guys want a lemon, but let me add some bonding and non-intercourse sensuality before.
You know, just to set the mood. Or something like that.
Also, thanks for the few reviews that I got and the story alerts, favorites, etc. They remind me to work on this thing, and I'm really sorry I didn't get to this before. School's a real issue sometimes.)
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When he opened his eyes, he immediately felt like closing them, shutting them tight, as the memories came back.
Flaming forest...Home on fire... Treehouse no longer safe...Skeletons. I can take them on...
Damn it. One of those bastard's flanked me. Arrows in my gut. Armor stopped most of it.
Okay now. Asleep. Food. Pain. Alright now. Dull ache.
He pulled himself up, trying to dredge up the shreds of memory that he knew he had.
He stretched, long arms straining out above his head, like a thin willow. He felt a few things crack in his back, the remnants of his wounds burning with pain. His bow and arrows lay with him, and he saw a stack of three fish close to him.
Fish... I used to get that a lot... Before I lost my house in the fire... How did the forest catch on fire?
His brow clenched in worry as he tried to focus.
A girl. An actual human girl. Carried me... Must be strong.
He remembered.
A name. Archer. My name is now Archer. Stupid mushroom soup. Made me giddy. And speaking of that, I'm still hungry.
Archer grabbed the baked fish, and chomped heavily on it. It was a bit overcooked and dry, but it was food, and he was thankful for it. With his basic needs out of the way, he found himself remembering what had happened. He was making a fishing pole with the string he had just got, when the sound of fire crinkling leaves interrupted him.
The fire had spread fast. His entire home was gone now, all of his things. All he had was his bow and his arrows. An Archer he was, from the first time he crafted a bow. His bow became his way of life.
After he first crafted the bow, he no longer cowered at night. He hunted his prey, slaughtered his enemies, and had a nice time while doing it. It had gone on for a long time, but nothing in this world seemed to last, least of all a wooden home built into the canopy of a tall forest.
But someone had to have started the fire. And he had an inkling of whom.
Not that he didn't have mixed feelings about the whole thing. Ignoring the fact that he wouldn't have been down there if his rescuer hadn't set a fire under his house, she had saved him, when she easily could have abandoned him and run off.
But she had burnt the product of his life, his impenetrable fortress above the world. That was the issue, because she canceled out the whole saving your life thing with the whole burn your home to the ground.
And far below him, down in the mines, She was working, She of the golden hair, of the sharp green eyes, and the shining face. An angel, and an arsonist.
He kept his bow with him and poked around what must have been the living area of his savior.
The bed, softer than his hammock, (Which was now a pile of ashes.) was still nowhere near as comfortable for him as his old rope contraption. It lay near the entrance, but beyond the bed, workbenches, furnaces, and a few large chests were the only other furnishing, discounting the torches generously spread across the room.
Large windows, essentially walls, were the border between him and a very steep drop onto a rocky beach, but they had nice views, views of islands in the distance and towers created by this mysterious girl, always emerging from the mountains, never built on top.
He noticed that they were almost at the cloud line, with the clouds only feet above his current position. He had been higher than this, back when he wandered, but that had been a long time ago, and a very long way away, and he actually felt a sort of fear, deep in his self, that made him shiver when he looked down at the ground far below.
Its probably a good idea to get down, He thought. Its going to take some time to get set up again.
He looked around for a ladder or some kind of staircase. The only thing remotely like that was behind an Iron door, and the steps behind it led up, instead of earthwards.
He turned to face the waterfall. A nice feature, really, but was it something more? An elevator?
Casting aside his doubts, he leapt into the waterfall, riding it down into large pool, almost a man made lake, and getting out, soaking wet. It wasn't as cold as the top floor, but it was still kind of chilly, and without his leather armor, he was definitely feeling it in his bones.
It had been so long since he had seen a living person. In fact, he couldn't remember anything since waking up on a sandy shore with nothing but the clothes on his back.
He was not alone. The thought raced around his brain, tingled in his extremities, made him shiver just a bit. He stumbled out of the lake and lay down on the smooth stone.
What could he do? How would he talk to her? How could he talk to her?
He could feel a burning within him, instincts urging to be satisfied. He had no idea what he could do, just questions, questions, questions, covering him, suffocating him.
His breath quickened, his heart beat, speeding up faster and faster, until finally, it all broke.
He screamed loudly, wildly, and louder than ever before. He could feel it echo in his head, and around the cave.
The slamming of a door interrupted him, and he looked up to see his savior come running.
She was toned, not skinny, but firm, with muscles that moved gracefully as she ran. Mining all day must have given her her form, and Archer could not help but notice her chest, hidden under her shirt but still hypnotizing for someone who had not something of that caliber in an immeasurable amount of time.
She slid to a crouched position over him.
"What's wrong?", She asked, concern apparent on her face.
He could not speak, now that he was truly conscious. Before, the words moved like syrup, sweet and slow, but now, there were so many words he wanted to say, he had no way how to say them.
"Hello.", He said, stupidly, a sheepish smile on his face.
"Hello", She said, with a smile of mirth. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced.", with the same autonomy he had held awkwardly before.
Archer laughed, almost insanely. He couldn't believe his luck. He wasn't the only one any more.
Realizing that his cackling was not providing the sense that he was all right, he stopped.
"My name is Archer", He said, responding from some long lost memory, some idea of how to talk
Then they were silent.
"I... don't know what... to say next...", She said. "Can you... make me a name... Like the one I made for you?"
"Miner", He said, with a sort of finality only attainable by those who haven't spoken in a conversation for very long times.
"Miner?" She asked. "Okay. Fine. Good. Nice. ." She stopped, realizing she had just repeated positive words instead of actually saying anything.
There was another pause.
"I'm going to mine. It is dangerous. Do you want to come?", She asked, realizing seconds too late that the fact that it was dangerous was not a good thing to mention, but it was not of any matter, because just a heartbeat later, she was surprised.
"Sure.", Archer said. He had nowhere left to go. Nothing to do.
She turned, and headed back the way she came, looking over her shoulder to see if Archer was coming.
Archer finally picked himself up and ran in her trail, as they worked through tight, paved tunnels that were lined with iron doors and torches.
Each one of them were unmarked, but all were full of something. Many of them were just chests or furnaces, but some led to gaping holes, dark and shadowed.
One, in particular caught his interest. It's entrance was lined with solid blocks of iron, and the area leading up to it was fenced and gated. Strange red blocks with horizontal white lines in the middle , labeled TNT, lay around the room, linked by a strange red powder which lay encrusted and ran through a hole high in the wall to a switch just outside the door's switch.
He held back, looking at the packages of TNT.
He heard her boots stop, then come closer.
"That goes to a very dangerous place. The TNT is to make a sand wall fall across it in case of skeletons. There are a lot in there. Too many for me. Not the first time, either. My first time here, some skeletons were lurking. I killed them, but I spent most of my supplies doing it. I was hurt, so I settled down. I've been developing here since.", Miner said.
Archer nodded, thinking about his arrival to the forest. It had been long ago, that was for sure. He had come in on boat, looking for a shelter from a tempest brewing out in the ocean, but he had settled, finding a nice, settled lifestyle to his liking, staying in the trees in the day, and hunting monsters and livestock in the night, invisible, undetectable.
He had always made excuses to himself like he was just stocking up for the next trip out, but something about this particular stretch of land just appealed to him in a way unattainable by anything else he had seen before.
And now he had nothing but his bow and his arrows, and the chance of love, something that he had never experienced before. And in his head, he made a decision to stay. They continued through the hallways, and he clung to Miner's heels as if she were a stray thread of light guiding him through the dark recesses of his mind.
(A/N: I'm sorry about not having it longer, but then again, I need to give you guys something, at least. I really am sorry for not continuing sooner with deeper content, but this is what I need to get off the table right now.)