Chapter Text
Aloy closed the front door behind her, placing her pack and bow on the floor as calmly as she could manage. You need to do this, she told herself again, you can’t wait any longer. Erend sat at the table, frowning over a stack of parchment, reading intently. He looked up to acknowledge Aloy’s return and greeted her a bright, cheeky smile.
“You’re back early,” he said.
Struggling to keep her face neutral, Aloy sat down across from him.
“Erend...” she started.
One word, her tone of voice, and he already knew exactly what she was going to say. The grin fell from his face.
“Erend, I have to go,” she forced out, pushing her thumb and index finger together tightly to keep herself from coming undone. “There’s something I need to do.”
- - - - -
Erend wasn’t a fool, even though he could convincingly play one when he needed to. He’d sensed the change in Aloy, always just a hint or an offhand comment that stuck with him every now and then.
He thought about asking her, casually bringing it up, but every imaginary conversation ended with one of them resentful or hurt or upset. What they had now, whatever this was, was so good and easy that Erend wasn’t ready to risk compromising it. So he’d cook dinner and they would play cards and laugh late into the night and he would put it off for another day. Ersa said to grow up, Erend chided himself as he lay awake in bed, listening to a cold rain fall against the roof. That probably means having difficult conversations, even when you don’t want to. Especially when you don’t want to.
Months ago, walking back from a long day of scrapping machines in the Maizelands, Aloy abruptly turned to him and asked, very pointedly, “Erend how do you know that what you want, what you’re doing, is right for you?” He almost laughed in response but realized she was serious, and had probably been mulling this over all day.
“Captaining the vanguard, living in Meridian,” she continued, “why this over anything else?”
Erend watched her brow knit together in obvious frustration. She was always beautiful, but somehow even more so when that small scowl crossed her face as she tried to work out a puzzle or untangle an equation. Erend sighed and adjusted his grip on the cart.
“Because it feels right. Because people here need me and – at least to my face – say that they want me here,” he said with a grin. “I don’t have any reason to be anywhere else right now. That doesn’t mean that I’ll never change my mind. It’s a big world out there, and while my knees might disagree I’m not that old yet.
“My advice? Stop thinking with your head for a minute and try thinking with your heart. Stop trying to decipher your feelings. While it is adorable, you’re not going to get anywhere,” he said playfully bumping her with his hip as they walked.
The tips of Aloy’s ears turned red as she smiled, and Erend’s heart skipped a few beats on their walk back to the city.
- - - - -
“I think I’ve figured out where my mother was from, where she maybe went when she died,” Aloy said. “I need to see it for myself. I have to know.”
Erend forced a rather unconvincing smile. “Of course Aloy. I’d... I’d want to know too.”
Silence fell between them, both unsure of what to say next.
“I knew this was coming, Aloy, please don’t feel bad about going,” Erend said.
“You did?” she asked, her brow arched in surprise.
Erend laughed. “You’re not exactly hard to read,” he said.
Aloy shrugged her shoulders and relaxed a little. “I guess so,” she said. “I’m sorry, Erend. I should have said something sooner. I needed to make sure I wanted to go for the right reasons.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Erend asked.
“No,” Aloy said quietly, “I need to do this alone.”
Crossing his arms, Erend leaned back in his chair. Aloy searched his face, waiting for his reaction.
“I understand why you need to do this by yourself...” Erend trailed off and absently ran a hand through his hair, “...but you should know, I want you to know, that you don’t have to be alone anymore if you don’t want to be.”
Aloy’s stomach twisted in on itself as decades of internalized guilt and pain was pulled from her by Erend’s words.
“I know you’re so used to being alone, that it’s the only life you’ve ever known. I just want you to think about what it would be like to let other people into your life. Obviously, the right kind of people,” he said, gesturing at himself with a wink.
Aloy huffed a small laugh, the tightness in her chest relaxing a little.
“I’m sorry, I should have told you this before now,” Erend said.
“Oh Erend, please don’t apologize,” Aloy responded. “I care about you. A lot. You’ve done nothing but make my life better since I met you. I know that and I… well I want more of that. But every time I think about it, some part of me is still holding back. I feel like I just found my freedom, just found answers to a lifetime of questions. I can’t give up on them now.”
Erend smiled sadly as he spoke. “Aloy, I don’t want you to think for a second that I want you to give up your life, your pursuits, for anything. Please don’t think that. Being with someone doesn’t mean giving up your identity, it means that you have a partner, someone who has your back. Someone who cares about you as much as you do.
“More than anything I want you to be happy, Aloy. And if I can give you that, if you think you could be happy with me, just know that the offer to stay here for whatever amount of time you want, will always stand.”
The evening bells rang in the distance, their deep tones carried on a breeze through the open window. Aloy’s fingers absently traced the edge of the wooden table, sturdy and reliable like the man that made it.
“Thank you, Erend,” Aloy said quietly. “I need to do this but... it’s never been hard for me to leave somewhere before. And now, having to leave Meridian, to leave you. I don’t like it.”
Erend laughed softly. “I’m not trying to make this any harder for you than it already is, but I’ll miss you when you’re gone, Aloy. And maybe, you’re having a hard time leaving because you like me? Maybe more than just a friend? Because I sure like you, Aloy.”
With each thud her heart said stay, stay, stay.
“I... we’ll talk about this when I get back. I promise,” Aloy said, holding his grey eyes with hers.
- - - - -
That night, Aloy lay awake in bed, her eyes counting and recounting the dark knots that covered the wooden ceiling. The conversation from earlier replayed in loop around her head – someone who cares about you – please don’t feel bad – be happy with me.
With a defeated sigh Aloy sat up.
Through the thin wall, Erend barely made out the creak of floorboards as she crossed the room. Sleep, it seemed, eluded everyone in the house that night. Erend had tossed and turned for what felt like hours, unable find a comfortable position to hold the anxiety of Aloy’s departure that had settled in his chest.
He watched through a cracked eye as the bedroom door opened. Aloy emerged, taking a few steps towards him and stopped at the corner of his mattress. Erend could just make out the edges of her figure in the dim moonlight – arms crossed, shoulders turned in slightly, wearing only a thin pair of leggings and linen shirt.
“Erend?” Aloy’s voice was small, barely a whisper.
Erend propped himself up on an elbow. “You okay?” he half-whispered back.
No? Yes? I’m not sure.
I don’t know how to be here with you but still remain as me?
I’m tired of being alone but so afraid of relying on others?
I want you to hold me again but I don’t understand why?
“I can’t sleep,” she settled on.
She could feel Erend’s smile. “Come here,” he said, lifting up the edge of his blanket.
Aloy crawled into the bed next to him, turning on her side so her back was to him, hoping he couldn’t hear her heartbeat that threatened to jump out of her chest. Erend shifted to give her as much of the bed as possible. The dip of the mattress, however, had other plans and kept sliding them together, coaxing his knees to tuck in just behind hers. Aloy waited a few moments until Erend’s breath slowed and she backed ever-so-slightly into his chest, feeling the movement of his breath against her shoulder blades. Erend stirred at the contact, hesitated slightly, and finally draped his arm over her. Aloy’s heart hummed as she closed her eyes, the weight pulling her into sleep, protecting her from the inevitable morning.