Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kelef Ealdorman couldn’t have looked more shocked if Aloy had struck him with her spear. He fixed Erend with an incredulous gaze, the implication obvious.

Do something about your woman.

The fact that she wasn’t “his” woman was irrelevant. They had arrived in Chainscrape together, and for an Oseram forged in the ways of the Claim that was close enough. And even if she was, Erend had seen first hand what happened to people who attempted to “do something” about Aloy. No, if she wanted to shout down an Ealdorman, he wasn’t getting involved.

At his reticence, Kelef snorted and spat into the dirt before rounding on Aloy again.

“You mean to tell me that you are the one who located and captured Dervahl? Who saved Meridian and the Sundom from destruction? Who felled the last of the Mad Sun-King’s acolytes and liberated the boy prince?”

“That’s me.”

“A woman? ”

“Last time I checked.”

Erend watched with mounting interest as they glared at each other in the thick, threatening silence. This would be good. The Ealdorman were accustomed to getting their own way, and Aloy was…well, Aloy. Stubborn to the last, afraid of no-one.

If he wasn’t completely besotted, he’d be terrified of her.

“You had help,” Kelef snapped, drawing Erend from his reverie. “The steel of the Sun-King’s Vanguard at your side.”

“The Sun-King’s Vanguard weren’t around when I was winning access to the Meridian Hunter’s Lodge. Or escaping from a Shadow Carja workshop. Or becoming Cheftain of a Banuk werak.”

“You expect me to believe you could measure up to an Oseram?” 

“I don’t care what you believe - “

“Because it’s complete bollocks. Women are good for three things: forging heirs, feeding her man and fu - “

“Oh yeah?” Aloy snarled, and Erend was alarmed to hear how high her voice was getting. “How about I ask Odurg if we can use his Pit for a while? We can see how well I measure up .”

Uh oh.

“Aloy - “

The look she gave him was uncharacteristically venomous. “You think I’m scared to go up against him? Just because he’s decked out in Oseram steel?”

“Enough, Vangurdsman!” Kelef cracked his knuckles. “This savage has challenged me in fair combat. I will accept. Your woman is honour bound to continue.”

The way he said “Vanguardsman” left Erend in no doubt what he thought of Oseram who sided with Carja monarchs. Preferable to being a woman, but only just.

“Great, that’s - really great.” He arranged his features into what he hoped was an ingratiating smile. “Uh, Aloy, can I have a word?”

“No.”

Ignoring the crowd gathering around them, he dragged Aloy aside by her elbow, angling himself so his vulnerable parts were out of her reach. The look she was wearing would have turned lesser men to slag.

“You have to let him win,” he said when he was sure they were out of earshot.

“ What? ”

“I’m serious, Aloy. If we want to get the Ealdormen to help fight Nemesis, killing one of them in combat isn’t a good idea.”

His decision regarding his posture was beginning to look prudent, based on the steel in her eyes.

“I’m not going to kill him. Obviously. ”

“Kelef is as old as the first forge, I’m pretty sure a loud noise would - “

“Erend,” Aloy snapped. “I’m doing this.”

“Right. Course you are.” He rubbed a gloved palm over the side of his head. “Just - maybe you could argue with him some more instead. Oseram love to argue. Or - “

“Or I could put his ass in the dirt until he knows better.”

Erend grunted. “I was right, you know. You and Ersa would have gotten along like hammer and forge.”

“Thanks. Now hold my gear.”

Turning his eyes skyward, he held out his arms so Aloy could bundle her quiver and shredder ammo into them. The shredder itself was slung over his shoulder, joined quickly by the bolt caster. How did she carry all this?

He didn’t have time to ask. 

“You ready, Kelef?” Aloy barked as the Ealdorman gave her a thundercloud glance. Before he had the chance to respond she launched herself over the edge of the cliff and took off into the settlement, leaving the rest of them blinking through the dust she’d kicked up. 

Erend tried and failed to mask his snort of laughter. Fire and spit, she was something else. More fool the Ealdormen if they didn’t realise that.

Word spread, as it often did among the Oseram, like blaze on a dry day. By the time Aloy and Kelef entered the pit, Erend had to elbow his way to the front of a crowd that appeared to be most of Chainscrape’s inhabitants. 

Erend tightened his knuckles on the railing as Kelef preened. There was no doubt that Aloy would win. The Oseram were a force to be reckoned with, but they mostly favoured brute force over speed and agility, and Kelef’s advancing years tipped the scales even more firmly in her favour.

But by the forge, he hoped she was careful. The line between getting the Ealdormen to believe she was capable of saving the world and pissing off the entire Claim was knife-edge thin, and for all of Aloy’s skills “diplomacy” was something that appeared to evade her.

The crowd bayed when Ordurg stepped up to the entrance to his pit. His face was almost completely obscured by the mouth and eye guards on his helmet, but the sneer as he looked at Kelef was hard to miss.

Boy , he was clearly unpopular. Suddenly the size of the crowd made sense.

“You know how it goes,” Ordurg said, looking between the two competitors. “Spears and practise arrows only. First to fall is out.”

Kelef glared at the pit master, fingers flexing uncomfortably around the thin spear. Aloy’s eyes never left her target, a steel-honed determination that Erend had seen so many times before. It meant that there was an idea in her head, a goal.

It meant there was very little that could stop her.

“On my mark,” Ordurg barked over the crowd volume. “And…engage!”

Kelef was on the move almost before the word was out of his mouth. Obviously hoping Aloy would underestimate him, he powered forward with the speed of a much younger man and aimed a swing with the base of his spear. His movements were laboured and clumsy, favoured more to the heavy war hammer. Aloy simply skirted around them, bringing her own spear around to buckle Kelef’s knees with a blow to the back of his legs.

The crowd screamed their approval, ale flying through the air

Oblivious, Aloy prowled around the perimeter of the pit like a Stalker. Erend could see her eyes darting, taking in the terrain, the rhythm of Kelef’s body, the routes and avenues available. She was a huntress first and foremost, and it was easy to see, the actions coming as easily to her as breathing. Kelef looked clumsy in comparison, and Erend could sympathise; it was the way he felt when he teamed up with her to fight a machine, clumsy and violent next to her lithe, smooth skill.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The muscles in her abdomen flexed with every moment, hair flaring like a halo of fire as she spun to avoid Kelef’s graceless attacks. She was beautiful, frightening in her intensity. Erend was drowning, just the sight of her enough to steal his breath and leave him - 

“She finally caught up to the old boys, huh?”

Petra Forgewoman squeezed herself in between him and a burly merchant, causing a few grumbles that she silenced with a fierce look. Erend grunted in response.

“Despite my best efforts.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted to knock a few of ‘em down at some point.” Petra added her voice to the cacophony as Aloy feinted and struck Kelef across his breastplate, staggering him. Erend sucked in a breathe through his teeth.

“Sure, but - “ He winced as an arrow wedged itself in Kelef’s gambeson. “Maybe not in front of the whole of Chainscrape. And not when I needed them onside.”

Petra snorted. “You’ve been out of the Claim too long, Vanguardsman. After a brawl like this all she’ll need to do is fill a tankard and Kelef will be eating out of her palm like a tame bird.”

“If he’s got all his teeth left.”

“Don’t need teeth to drink, do you? Remember old Ferlund? Not a tooth in his head, but by the forge he could put away - “

Petra’s words were lost in a roar from the crowd and a clatter of metal on metal as Aloy suddenly launched into an elaborate series of feinting and striking movements, finishing with a firm kick to Kelef’s chest that knocked him to his knees. With the momentum she launched herself up and took a quick shot with her bow, burying the practise arrow deep in his armour.

Kelef’s composure snapped.

With a roar he lunged forward, sacrificing all finesse in favour of raw power and slamming into Aloy with his shoulder. The two of them clattered to the ground in a cloud of dust, the Ealdorman’s hands at Aloy’s throat. A wave of animal fury rippled through Erend as he clenched his knuckles against the urge to jump into the pit, rip the Kelef away from her and bury his fist into his gut.

He wouldn’t, of course. It would invalidate the melee, and Aloy would no doubt take it personally, whatever his intentions. Kelef would too of course, although he cared far less about - 

With a feral sounding noise Aloy wrenched an ankle free and kicked out at an unprotected spot to the side of Kelef’s kneecap. He let out a shout of pain and clutched at his leg, overbalancing and falling awkwardly onto his side.

From that point, the match was essentially over. The Ealdorman, used to quick victories at the end of a hammer, was starting to tire. Aloy could see the advantage and was making the most of it, landing hit after punishing hit and dancing out of the way when Kelef swung clumsily back at her. She was incandescent, sunrise reflected on a swift river, the arc of flame when forge fire rose into the night sky.

Kelef, stumbling again, made one last furious attempt, throwing his weight into the lunge with a roar. Aloy, on the move, telegraphed his intentions perfectly and with a sudden sprint towards him jumped and planted her feet into his broad shoulder, pushing him down into the ground. Before she’d even landed she had nocked one of the practise arrows in her bow and loosed it at him. It flew true and landed straight through the loose sleeve of his shirt, pinning him where he lay.

For a heart stopping moment Erend was afraid she had killed him. Ordurg unlocked the gates and hurried over to the prone form, crouching and speaking hurriedly. With a rush of relief so intense it made him feel faint Erend saw the tremble in the old man’s hands, throat working as he drew breath. The sweat ran down his cheeks like tears in the harsh Daunt sunlight.

The noise of the crowd disappeared as though the volume had been turned down abruptly as Ordurg strode across the pit to the Ealdorman. With barely a rustle in the dry breeze, it was easy to hear Kelef’s quavering voice around the arena.

“I yield.”

The crowd erupted. Ordurg grabbed Aloy’s wrist and hauled her arm into the air, spear still clutched in her fist, a triumphant tug at the corners of her mouth.

“Yeah!” Erend roared. “That’s my g - “

He stopped abruptly, teeth clicking together, heat rushing up his neck. Petra dug her elbow into his side, surprisingly gentle. There was a wry smile on her face when he looked down.

“You too, huh?”

“What do you - “

“Flame Hair!” Petra roared, leaning past him and hauling the other woman into a fierce one-armed hug. “Any time you’re up for a trip to the Claim, I can think of half a dozen Ealdormen I’d like to introduce you to.”

Panting, Aloy extricated herself from what was threatening to become a headlock and pulled her hair from where it was stuck to her cheek. Erend ached to do it for her. Grimly he balled his hands into fists and put them behind his back, where they couldn’t get him into trouble.

“Told you I wouldn’t kill him.” Aloy’s breathless voice was gleeful.

“You nearly killed me , but okay. You win.”

“I always do. You still have my gear?”

Biting back a retort about their most recent Strike game - for someone who could plot out every future moment of a Grazer herd, she was hopeless at wooden machines - he obediently handed over her things and watched as she arranged them artfully over her back.

“Gotta go and see Milduf,” she announced as she threaded the length of rope through her belt. “He said he had some supplies for me - Erend, I’ll meet you at the gate?”

“I - uh, sure.” He glared at Petra, who was making a vaguely suggestive gesture behind Aloy’s back. “See you there.”

Flushed and beautiful, she allowed herself to be thumped on the shoulder by the Oseram as she made her way back to the tavern, hollers of congratulations clamouring. Petra whistled.

"They don't make 'em like that in the Claim, do they?"

“If you say anything to her, I’ll piss in your forge every time I pass.” Erend said fiercely. She threw her head back and laughed.

“Relax, you big lug. Your secret’s safe with me. Just make sure you get there before I do.” With a wink, she shoved the burly artificer behind her out of the way and vanished into the throng.

Erend turned his face to the sky and groaned, a sound lost in the renewed Chainscrape clamour. 

Damn Petra Forgewoman, and damn his stupid forgefire heart.

Chapter Text

Erend was only half paying attention when Aloy stopped dead in the road ahead of him. His breath left him in a loud oof as he walked straight into her, grabbing her around the middle instinctively to avoid bowling her over.

The feel of her tiny waist in his hands made his insides do something uncomfortable, as if they didn't know whether to go up or down.

“Shh!” Aloy elbowed him and gestured into the darkness. 

Erend peered over her head warily. Machines? Bandits? Something terrible only she had a name for?

But as far as he could see there was no blue light, no flickering shadows. The sky was clear, the moonlight dappled on the surface of the river. An owl hooted somewhere in the distance. Perfectly peaceful.

“What is it?” he breathed.

“Didn’t you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That.” Aloy nudged him. “There, again. Fish.”

“You can hear fish?”

“There’s a heron catching them.”

“Wouldn’t have been surprised if you could hear fish,” Erend mumbled. “So, what, are they trying to kill us now?”

“No.” Aloy’s spear was suddenly in her hand. “We’re going to catch them.”

“Why? We have plenty of food. Milduf gave you all that stuff in Chainscrape.”

“I need the bones to make a few things.”

Erend stared incredulously at the water. Aside from the moonlight catching the edge of the ripples, the water was dark and uninviting.

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait until morning? You’ll be able to, y’know. Actually see the fish.”

“I don’t know when we’ll find a river again. Besides - ” she gestured to her Focus. “This is better than daylight.”

Erend wasn’t sure why he’d tried arguing, to be honest. Aloy was as stubborn as any Oseram. It was one of the reasons he’d fallen so deeply for her, but he was beginning to understand how the exasperated Carja felt trying to barter with Oseram merchants.

With a deep sigh he gestured at the water. “Alright, okay. Go get your fish bones.”

Aloy started unloading her array of weapons from her back and laying them out on the bank, looking inordinately pleased with herself.

“Wanna give me a hand?” She asked as she checked the contents of her quiver.

Erend bit back the immediate “no” - a rarity, since he would ordinarily have dropped everything if Aloy asked him for help. “Uh - nah, I’m good. I’ll stay here. Where it’s dry. And warm.”

“It’ll take less time if we both go. C’mon.”

“Wait - you’re serious?”

She stopped with her hands full of arrows. “Of course I’m serious.”

"I am not going into a river in the middle of the night.”

“Can’t you swim?”

“Well yeah, if I take my armour and clothes off - “

The words were out of his mouth before his brain had caught up. Aloy gave him a look that was almost speculative; jumping into the dark water and staying there suddenly seemed like an appealing option.

Before he could say anything else, Aloy peeled her gloves off and threw them on the bank next to her bow. Erend watched, jaw getting progressively more slack as she fumbled with the straps of her armour, piling on top of her gloves until she was wearing only the thin Nora leathers.

“You’re actually gonna do this, huh?”

“Yeah?”

“Aloy, it’s freezing - “

“So help me and I’ll be done quicker.”

Erend opened his mouth to argue until he saw the set of her jaw and the spark in her eyes. Pointless . He sighed heavily. On a good day he could argue with the best of the Oseram, but he suspected even the best of the Oseram had nothing on Aloy’s obstinate streak.

“How, exactly? I don’t have a spear.”

“You have hands, though.” Aloy tapped her Focus and let her eyes drift over the water. “If you can’t get hold of them at least you’ll push them downstream so I can.” She jabbed her spear at him demonstratively.

Erend knew when he was beaten. After all, it happened embarrassingly often when it came to Aloy.

With a grunt, he pulled off his boots and started on the fastenings to his heavy armour. Shedding it in the open left him feeling like a Fireclaw reared up on its hind legs, leaving its fire unit unprotected.

Exposed. Vulnerable.

Nervously, Erend touched a hand to his Focus, scanning for nearby machines as he removed his gloves and tucked them carefully under his discarded gambeson.

“Alright, if we’re gonna do this let’s get it - “

He stopped abruptly at the dumbstruck look on Aloy’s face. She was staring at his hands as though they were solid greenshine, the way the Vanguard boys watched the Carja noblewomen pass through Meridian in their light silks. Alarmed, he examined his fingers. Nothing untoward.

“Uh - Aloy?”

She started and blinked into his bemused face, cheeks pinking.

“Right. Sorry. Let’s go.”

She near ran into the inky water, leaving Erend bemused on the bank. Even in the moonlight he could see the flush rising on the back of her neck.

*

The water was so cold it stole the breath from Erend’s lungs, making him extremely glad it only came up to his waist. He swallowed the roar of shock as the freezing flow barraged him and tucked his hands under his shoulders in an attempt to keep his fingers warm. Fish thrashed against his thighs, thick beating streams of bodies fighting against his intrusion.

The moon-dappled river broke into glittering shards as Aloy surfaced downstream, a fish already neatly impaled on the end of her spear.

“You didn’t need my help,” he grumbled.

“I do. Look.”

Following her lead, Erend switched on his Focus. The water lit up with thick, orange lines as the fish desperately evaded Aloy’s pale blue shadow, clamouring against each other as they gave her a wide berth.

“What do you want me to do?”

”Keep as many as you can in this section of river. If you can catch any yourself, even better.”

“Gotcha.”

Silent as a fox on the hunt, Aloy disappeared downstream, slipping under the surface as she went. Shivering, Erend peeled his wet shirt away from his chest and looked disdainfully at the water.

Fish. Okay. The sooner they caught them, the sooner he could get dry.

His fingers were so frozen they might as well have been made of cloth. With a clumsy swipe he batted one away from his outstretched hand by mistake. Another attempt left smooth scales sliding through his grasp, as effortlessly as a blade through soft leather. With a growl of frustration, he plunged both hands around the writhing mass by his leg and slammed them together, catching the edge of a flimsy tail as the fish shot into the dark water.

This was ridiculous. He was not going to be defeated by fish. What had Aloy said? Push them downstream? -Right. He could do that.

Erend tapped his Focus again and immediately saw Aloy’s outline, a little further downstream from where she’d entered the water. The purple silhouettes of the fish swarmed around him, fighting against the current to get away from his intrusion.

Okay. Pushing them downstream.

Gritting his teeth, he tugged the hem of his shirt free from his trousers and bent his knees slightly. The water caught the bottom of his shirt and made it billow around his waist. He crouched, hissing as the cold water hit his chest, and stretched his arms out to take up as much room as possible.

Erend took a heavy step forward. Then another.

He had no idea if it was working; he didn’t dare lift his arm to check his Focus in case it was. He could only feel the tug on his shirt as the fish swam fruitlessly into the fabric, lurching forward into the open water again.

One heavy step. Then another. Then another. The sharp cold of his fingers, the thud of the fish into his abdomen. Another. Then another. His eyes focused only on the river as the water slammed into him -

“We’re done. Let’s go.”

Aloy’s voice rang out, clear as a chime, over the rush of water. He grunted in relief, letting his arms sag by his sides.

“No arguments from me.”

As soon as he stepped out of the water his wet clothes sagged against him, dragging him down. He shook his hands hard, fingers thick and numb with cold, andheaved himself back to his armour. Good thing he’d taken it off before traipsing into the river. Vanguard steel was heavy enough on its own, never mind with wet clothes -

Then Aloy emerged from the river, and every single thought departed from Erend’s head.

The moonlight cast a silver sheen on her wet skin, making her look as though she’d been struck from moonlight. Her damp leathers had been fitted before, but the water made the edges cling to her in a way that made his mouth dry. Little rivulets of water trickled down her neck; Erend’s eyes followed them as they glittered over her collarbones. He wanted to follow them with his mouth, to know what it would be like to taste starshine from her skin.

With a start, he realised Aloy was talking. To him. Talking to him. Shit . A strangled noise fell out of his mouth and he coughed quickly in an attempt to hide it.

Fortunately, Aloy didn’t seem to be listening. Her eyes were arrowpoint focused on his shoulder, where his wet shirt clung to his skin. Absently, he pulled the sodden fabric away from his bicep, ignoring the uncomfortable way the water from his hair was running down his back.

The movement seemed to break whatever spell Aloy was under. She jumped and stared at Erend as though she’d only just realised he was there.

“Are you okay?” They asked at the same time.

Erend shook his head slightly, feeling as though his ears were full of water from the way his heartbeat was thumping in them.

“I’m fine. We, uh - we should probably get moving. You should put your clothes back on. Armour! Your armour. Not that it’s - it’s not - Before you freeze. You’re wet. From the water.”

Aloy gave him a strange look as she pulled her bracers on. Resisting the urge to throw himself back into the river, Erend wrung the worst of the water out of his shirt and trousers and shrugged on his own armour.

It wasn’t fair. At all. Did she have to look like that with her hair dripping wet and snaking down the front of her leathers? How was he supposed to look at her ever again, now that he had that knowledge?

He snuck a glance at her as he adjusted his scarf around his neck. She was squeezing her braids, shaking her head as drops of water flew like shards of moonlight.

He loved her. Fire and spit he loved her, and she had no idea. Never would. The thought made pain sear through him, fresh and sharp. Travelling with her…he wouldn’t give it up for all the steel in the Claim, but he hadn’t considered how empty his arms would feel, knowing she was sleeping a few feet away.

He shook his head. They had a job to do. 

“You good?” He called over his shoulder as he hoisted his hammer into place on his back.

“Yeah. Just…”

She fell silent. Erend whirled round in concern, one hand fumbling for a weapon, but before he could speak she had thrown her arms around his middle, heedless of his wet clothes.

The Oseram didn't put much stock in souls, but Erend could have sworn he felt his leave his body as she hugged him. The warmth of her hands soaked through the Vanguard steel and wet shirt, burning him wherever she touched.

For her, he was an eternal forge.

“Thank you,” Aloy said softly as she pulled back. “I…I really appreciate it.”

Erend opened and closed his mouth, not unlike a fish himself. Aloy tugged at his elbow with a smirk.

“Come on. I’ll cook you some fish.”

"Yeah." His grin was so wide his jaw was beginning to ache. "Yeah, let's do that."

*

They were halfway down the dirt road before he remembered he didn’t like fish.

Chapter Text

“Remind me again why we’re here?” Erend muttered to Aloy as they picked their way through the stifling crowds. His thoughts turned longingly to cool breezes, of snow and clear air and the crack of hard twigs underfoot.

“Petra asked me to pick up some supplies. They should be here already - apparently a merchant called Donal has them.”

“Right.” Erend was going to tell Petra exactly what he thought of her suppliers and their locations next time he was in Chainscrape. Unless he boiled in his armour first. That was a distinct possibility.

On the plus side, an Oseram settlement always had Oseram cooks. The air was so thick he could almost taste the meat and spice.

“You wanna get something to eat?” He called. “I think I saw - “

“Erend Ealdorsson?”

The voice was as clear as a bell, even over the noise of the marketplace.

“Erend Ealdorsson, you wait right there!”

Aloy stopped abruptly. Erend walked into her.

“Ealdorsson?” He could see the gears turning in her head. “You mean your father is an–”

“Yeah,” Erend said hurriedly. A cold dread was starting to trickle through his veins like chillwater. “Ealdorsson” wasn’t a legacy he was in a hurry to reclaim, and meeting someone who knew him from back then - 

This was bad. This was very bad.

“Hey, uh, Aloy - I think I saw Donal back there. Why don’t you go and see - “

“Why didn’t you tell me your father is an Ealdorman?” she interrupted.

“It’s never come up before.”

She crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at him. Not good. “You don’t think it might have been good to mention when we were talking about ‘getting the Ealdormen to listen’?”

“Do we really have to have this conversation now?” Erend asked desperately, scanning for an escape route. Aloy peered round at him, a crease between her eyebrows.

"Why have you gone a weird colour?"

Before he could answer, a stocky Oseram woman elbowed her way through the throng of people. Panting, hands on her hips, she sized Aloy up for a moment before grinning at Erend, one of her front teeth missing.

It was worse than he could have imagined.

“ There you are, you slagspitter,” she beamed, and now Erend could hear the lisp. The same lisp that had enchanted him in a Mainspring tavern, the lisp that had made all the breathy little murmurs sound even better in the dark.

He was out of options. Time for the cheapest trick in the book.

“Have we met?” He asked, arranging his face into what he hoped was an innocent expression.

“Don’t pretend you don’t remember me,” she smirked. “Just because you’re here with your forgewife - “

Erend wasn't a praying man, but he threw one up for a Glinthawk attack, a bandit ambush, the arrival of NEMESIS or anything that would immediately bring an end the conversation.

“This is the Saviour of Meridian! ” He said, trying and failing to keep his mortification out of his voice.

Probably not the best thing to come up with when Aloy was already pissed with him, but he would have to worry about that later. The Oseram woman - by the forge , what was her name? - was watching him in a way that was all too familiar: it was the way he’d watched the barmaids in the Claim, or the Carja merchants passing through the Sundom with their light silks and bare midriffs.

He felt a sudden jolt of guilt and empathy for those women. He wanted nothing more than to slink between the market stalls and disappear from under her burning scrutiny.

“My apologies.” Her voice jolted him out of his thoughts. “I didn’t recognise you…from the stories in the Claim I always thought you’d be taller .”

Erend nearly snorted. “What, the hair didn’t give it away?”

She ignored him. “I’m Darla. It’s an honour to meet you.” Her smile was open and genuine as she offered Aloy her hand.

Darla . By the forge, that was it.

“Aloy,” she replied, unmoving. Erend was taken aback by how stiff her voice was. The smile faltered from Darla’s face for a moment before she turned it back on him.

“What brings you here? I assumed you were still in the Claim.”

“I left,” he said simply. “Years ago. I’m the captain of Sun-King Avad’s vanguard now.”

“Really?” Darla said, theatrically impressed. “That is exciting. Vanguard steel certainly sits well on you.”

“Uh…thanks. I guess”

“And how’s Ersa?”

Gut punch.

Erend had learned that grief was fluid, ever changing. It was no longer solid, pressing heavy on him from all sides every waking moment. He could go days without the acute hurt of missing his sister, but when it hit him it was like a Thunderjaw to the chest, crashing the pain through him.

“She uh…” He breathed past the ache. “She died.”

Darla’s face fell.

“By the forge Erend, I’m so sorry.” She looked genuinely stricken, putting a hand on his forearm. “I drank with her a couple of times in Mainspring. She was something else.”

Erend forced a smile. “Yeah. She was.”

A heavy, awkward silence descended on the group, punctuated by the shouts of Oseram tradesmen. It could have been worse, he supposed. She could have asked about his father. The further he could keep Aloy from that thread of conversation the better, although he didn't doubt she'd needle him about it at some point. His theory that he couldn't deny her anything might be put to the test.

"We, uh - well, we'd better get going," he said loudly as Aloy scowled.. "Nice to see you again."

“You too. And while you’re here, if you fancy getting your steel struck you let me know,” Darla winked. Erend realised - far, far too late - that her hand was still on his arm. “I promise you’ll remember my name this time.”

Aloy made a sudden convulsive movement beside him, as though she’d caught herself before jumping into a fight. Confused, Erend watched the storm roll across her face as Darla disappeared into the crowd, men parting for her like the ocean splitting.

“Aloy, are you - “

“You have friends everywhere, huh?” Aloy interrupted in a voice so bitter he recoiled as though she’d struck him.

“You meet a lot of Oseram, I guess. Especially if you travel after you leave the Claim.”

“Funny. I’ve never met Darla before.”

“Well, she's - hold on, I thought you were mad at me?"

"I am mad at you." Aloy growled. "I'm going to find Donal."

She strode past him, shouldering her way through the crowd without looking back. Erend rubbed a hand over his face and groaned.

He had no idea what was going on any more, but he knew it wasn’t good.

Aloy’s mood remained frosty for the rest of the day. She disappeared for several hours in the marketplace and returned without buying anything, eyebrows drawn together in a thundercloud frown. She barely exchanged a sentence with him as they made their way to their shelter for the evening. The moment they dropped their packs she vanished into the forest, returning after a time with a fistful of rabbits and dumping them at his feet without a word.

They were halfway through their meal when Erend finally cracked.

“Look, is this because I didn't tell you about my old man?” he broached. “Cause I promise, he won’t be any help at all. Old bastard’s miserable as slag and twice as useless.”

“No,” Aloy said bluntly without looking at him.

“Okay, what is it then? C’mon Aloy, help a guy out.”

When she offered nothing else, Erend shoved a piece of meat and bread into his mouth mutinously. He loved the very bones of the woman by the forge she was -

"So."

He grimaced and mentally shored himself up. Here we go.

"So?"

“Darla.”

"It's - Darla?"

“Were you in love with her?”

Erend promptly dropped his flask.

"Was I - what ?"

Aloy was busily examining a frayed section of her armour, and if Erend didn’t know any better he would have said she was avoiding looking at him.

“Was I - by the forge, no I wasn’t in love with her. She was…”

Embarrassment crept through him. The correct answer, of course, was she was gorgeous and willing , which was all the reason a young man in the Claim needed. But he wasn’t in the Claim any more, and he’d grown up since then.

And the last thing he wanted Aloy to think was that he spent his free time seeking out women to stoke his forge.

“No,” he said, hoping Aloy wouldn’t notice how strangled his voice sounded. “No, I wasn’t in love with her.”

Her expression was unsettling. Seeing her looking so vulnerable and exposed...Erend felt as though he should look away, as though he’d walked in on her naked.

No sooner had the thought entered his head than he felt his cheeks flare. Not the time. Not the time.

“But you - “ Aloy gestured towards the fire. “You and her - I mean, you did - you had…“

“Sex with her?” he supplied.

As soon as the words had left his mouth he was seized by the desire to stuff them back in. Aloy’s cheeks went scarlet and for a moment Erend throught she was about to run. Wasn't a bad idea, if he was being honest. He twisted his hands desperately in the loose material of his trousers.

“Yes,” Aloy finally said in an odd voice. “That’s what I meant.”

“Um.” Erend’s mouth was dry. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

“You guess you did?“

“Aloy, is this going somewhere?”

“No! I mean, not really. I just…I never really thought about it.”

“Sex?”

“You.”

“Me having sex?”

Aloy’s face was nearly the same colour as her hair. He couldn’t imagine he was faring much better. 

“I’ve never done it,” she added, as though he hadn’t spoken. For a heartstopping moment Erend was afraid he’d asked.

“Oh?” He managed to croak, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck. Aloy shrugged gently, staring arrow-straight ahead. Tension was etched in every line of her body.

Erend took a deep breath. He wasn’t always the best at reading between the lines, but Aloy had never been one of life’s great communicators, so he was going to have to try.

“Look,” he said desperately. “If you want to talk about - about sex - I’m not an expert but I can probably tell you the ins and outs…”

He could almost hear Ersa cackling in his ear. The ins and outs. 

"...not that you have to do it. With anyone. I just mean - well, I’ve done it, so I can - “

 “I’m tired,” Aloy said abruptly, getting up so quickly she sent the arrows on her knee flying. “I’m going to bed. To sleep. Goodnight.”

Before he could so much as open his mouth she fled into her tent, the flap whispering closed behind her and leaving him with only the cracking fire for company. Erend sagged with relief and buried his head in his hands.

Aloy was a mystery to him at the best of times, but this…this was something else entirely.

Chapter Text

As the Tenakth squared their shoulders menacingly at Erend, he thought of Aloy’s scathing words from before.

“You have friends everywhere, huh?”

“Aloy!” One of them crowed. “Got a mount with your name on it. You in?”

“Hello, Josekk.” Aloy’s voice was curious. “Wasn’t expecting to run into you around here.”

Josekk bared his teeth as he grinned. Erend privately thought when it came to friends she had him beat; his were rarely an assortment of tame machines and mixed Tenakth clans.

“Hey, fresh meat!” Another Tenakth interrupted his musings. “You bring your friend along to make sure none of us come last?”

“That metal won’t help you in the race, Outlander.” Someone else jeered.

“Race?” Erend asked blankly. Aloy nodded towards the Chargers nosing idly in the sparse grass.

“What, they race those?“

“ We race those.” Josekk corrected him, gesturing between the group and Aloy. “She’s the only one who’s ever beaten Red Teeth. It’d sting, getting beat by an outlander, if she wasn’t so good .”

Erend gaped at her.

“Are you serious? ”

One look at her face confirmed that she was. Strangely, Erend’s overwhelming feeling was that of relief. Aloy’s sense of humour was as sharp and uncompromising as her spear; he could only imagine the chaos she would unleash if she branched out into practical jokes.

“Why?”

Aloy shrugged. “It’s…fun. Do you mind?”

“Does she need your permission , Oseram?” One of the riders called amid jeers and laughter.

Erend scowled. Things had been….strange between them since they’d run into Darla in that Oseram settlement. In the quiet spaces he’d noticed an expression on Aloy’s face that reminded him of grief.

He didn’t like it. The last thing he needed was the Tenakth making things weirder.

“Go ahead,” he shrugged, ignoring the heckling. “I’ll watch your gear.”

“Just the potions. I need the weapons.”

Erend surveyed the Tenakth with renewed alarm.

“In case you run into machines?” He said hopefully.

“No, in case I need to—”

Aloy stopped short, eyes narrowing at a spot over his shoulder. Erend peered round and only just avoided throwing a punch when he found himself almost nose to nose with one of the rebels.

“Sunset reminds me of blood on machine oil.” The stranger announced, muffled by his heavy wooden helmet. He was bedecked with the red and yellow insignia of the Desert clan, and all Erend could see of his face were a pair of unsettling grey eyes. “Doesn’t it make you want to draw your bow?”

Aloy rolled her eyes. “Hello Nil.”

Gears started to turn in Erend’s memory. Nil…

“I see you’ve brought a new challenger to the fray,” the stranger continued. Erend could hear the aloof smile in his voice. “Never seen an Oseram race.”

“He’s not racing,” Aloy said quickly.

The stranger’s piercing eyes flicked between them, unblinking.

“Uh — yeah, the Oseram aren’t built for racing,” Erend added awkwardly. “We’re built for fighting and drinking.” 

One of the other riders added something rude and unflattering, voice as sharp as a whip in the still air.

“Not ready to spill a little blood? You surprise me, Outlander. I thought any partner of our Nora huntress would crave the sharp edge of the blade. Certainly kept my blood running hot .”

Erend’s heart dropped to his boots.

“You’re — partners?”

Aloy rolled her eyes. “We cleared some bandit camps together back east. That’s all.”

The shards finally dropped. Nil . The crazy, bloodthirsty Carja who got off on killing.

“You wound me,” Nil said mildly as Erend fought to keep his expression neutral. “The thrill of the race is nothing compared to the sound of your loose arrows. Why not leave your Oseram friend at the starting line and ride with me?"

Something flashed through Erend’s chest like unchecked Blaze, primal and fierce.

“Whoa — wait, hold on.” He heard himself say. “If there’s a space for me, I’m in.”

Aloy turned abruptly on her heel, the beads in her hair clicking. 

“What are you doing?” She asked fiercely.

“It’ll be like those sports holos I used to watch with Varl, right?”

“Erend — ”

“Oseram steel against iron blood,” Nil interrupted serenely. “See you on the track, Outlander.”

He strode towards a battered but sturdy-looking Charger at the side of the road. With a grimace, Erend looked down at Aloy, expecting to see anger rolling through her expression like thunderclouds.

Instead there was something that looked remarkably like panic.

“What is it?” He peered frantically over his shoulder, scanning the horizon for the hazy outline of a machine. A Thunderjaw at least, judging by Aloy’s reaction. Or a Dreadwing.

The air shimmered, empty and quiet.

“Aloy?”

“Nothing. I just — it’s nothing.” She shook her head slightly, as though she was trying to dislodge a fly. “You’ll need weapons.”

“Yeah, about that…” Erend rolled his shoulders, the heavy weight of the hammer tugging at him. “Not sure I can ride and swing a hammer around with one hand. Balance would be all off.”

Aloy somehow managed to look even less happy.

“Leave it with my gear,” she sighed. “Do you want to walk the track?”

“Nah, I’ll just follow you.”

If the tightness of Aloy’s jaw was anything to go by, humour wasn’t going to lift her strange mood.

“Come on,” she grumbled. “Let’s go and get you a mount.”

“Great!” Erend said ebulliently.  “Hey, do I want to know why they call him Red Teeth?”

“Absolutely not.”

He’d been on the back of a Charger before, more times than he could count, but not like this. Everything was charged with tension, the air sharp and dry like the split second before Stormbird lightning. Beside Erend, the other riders were as tightly drawn as bowstrings.

The rider with the broken leg hoisted himself gingerly onto a boulder at the side of the track.

“Ready, riders?” He barked in a clear voice, leaning on his spear.

“Yeah!” Erend roared back. The other racers glared at him; from the back a sound that sounded suspiciously like a giggle floated his way.

“Three!” The caller’s voice rang out in the still air. Erend dragged his attention back to the front.

 “Two!”

He could have sworn the Charger was vibrating underneath him.

“One!”

With a jolt Erend realised that he’d never been on a mount that had taken off at speed from a standing start. He redoubled his grip.

“Race!”

Before the caller had finished the word the Charger was ploughing forward. Erend’s head snapped sharply back; thrown off balance, he inadvertently hauled the machine into the rider in front.

“Sorry!” He yelled over the scream of metal as his competitor skidded into the brush. His voice was swept uselessly into the air as they thundered on, the wind stealing Erend’s breath with it. He’d never been on a mount that was going that fast — he’d never needed to be on a mount that was going that fast.

By the end of the first lap he was thoroughly regretting setting eyes on Nil, agreeing to race, and the number of Brew Battered Wedges he’d eaten in the small tavern they’d passed earlier that afternoon. 

Gritting his teeth he focused on the horizon ahead, the movement on the racers in front as they jostled for position. He couldn’t see the flame-red of Aloy’s hair or the Nil’s tall wooden mask. Presumably they were way out in front. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too embarrassed —

Without warning Erend’s Charger lurched violently sideways. Sky and sand flipped violently around him for a few seconds, before he landed hard and a bright pain seared through his shoulder like Blaze.

“Stay at the side next time, Oseram!” A jeering voice drifted into the distance, swallowed by the thunder of metal as machine and rider rounded the corner.

Then there was nothing but silence.

Erend took a deep breath of desert air and spluttered as dust filmed across his tongue. Spitting into the sand, he surveyed the shattered remains of his Charger.

“Guess I’m walking,” he said to the carcass. The only response was a shower of sparks from a torn wire.

“Think that’s funny, do ya?” Erend groaned as he pushed himself up on one elbow. He could probably get to his feet. Slowly. If he was extremely careful he could walk back to the camp. When Aloy returned he’d bite his tongue against the I told you so , burn with shame at embarrassing her, watch Red Teeth — or Nil, or whatever he was calling himself today—slink around her with those lithe, powerful muscles. Then perhaps he’d daydream rather uncharitably about pushing him down a cliff — 

The morose chain of thought was shattered as the thundering sound of machinery broke the still air. 

Shit .

There was no cover around him and with a bad arm and no hammer he was as much use as a cold forge. Helplessly Erend backed further into the twisted metal of his mount - if he played dead, would whatever it was ignore him and move on? It sounded too big to be a Scrapper, too fast for a Thunderjaw -

Before he could decide on a plan, In a cloud of dust and noise Aloy leapt into his line of sight in a cloud of dust and noise. 

“Are you okay?” She greeted him baldly as she skidded to a halt. Erend blinked in surprise.

“Is it over? By the forge, how fast were you going?”

“Are you hurt, Erend?” 

He grimaced. “My shoulder. And my pride. Maybe one day you’ll come to save my ass and I won’t look totally pathetic.”

Gamely, Erend grit his teeth while Aloy poked experimentally at his arm.

“I don’t think you’ve broken anything,” she mused eventually, helping him to his feet. “But I wouldn’t swing a hammer for a while.”

“Don’t have it anyway.” Erend forced an easy note into his voice as she brushed the worst of the dust from his armour, the gentle pressure of her hands on his upper arms making his insides squirm pleasantly.

There must have been more dust on him than he thought. She was certainly taking her time about it.

“So did you win?” He asked after several long moments of silence.

“Mmm?”

“The race.”

“Move.” Aloy abruptly shoved him sideways. Taken aback he trod on a stone and stumbled; his hand flew to his injured shoulder instinctively, turning away from the impact.

A pair of warm arms snaked around his waist, anchoring him to the thundering ground.

Moments later the riders crashed past. Through the giddy realisation that those were Aloy’s arms around him Erend saw Nil at the front of the pack, pressed low to the back of his mount as arrows flew around him. Three landed in the ground beside his feet with a succession of loud thonks.

Just as quickly, the pack rounded the corner and disappeared, leaving the dust hazing in the desert heat.

“They’re still racing?” Erend said in confusion. “What happened to you?”

To his enormous regret Aloy let go of him and began hastily counting the arrows in her quiver.

“I got an alert on my Focus that you’d taken a bad hit,” she said without looking up. “I came back to make sure you were okay.”

Erend was visited by the sudden desire to punch the air.

“Oh yeah?” He drawled, unable to keep the glee out of his voice. Up yours, Red Teeth.

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve seen what happens to machines that get knocked out of races.”

That sobered him. Erend thought back to the smoking mass of twisted metal they’d left behind and scrutinised Aloy’s desert armour as he followed her through the sand.

There was just so little of it. And this time his observations were critical rather than self-indulgent.

“Why do you do this, Aloy?”

She glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow quirked.

“Do what?"

“This…racing. Coming off like that’s knocked some of my screws loose, and I’m in full Vanguard steel. You in that armour…”

“I didn’t fall.”

“Yeah, this time. What if someone - “

“I’ve taken worse.”

“Aloy, I’ve seen you do some crazy stuff, but it’s always…saving the world crazy stuff. This is just stupid."

The moment the words left his mouth he was so sorry he’d said them. Aloy’s steps faltered slightly, her shoulders stiffening.

“Right,” she said flintily.

“That’s not what I — ”

“Forget it, Erend.”

The quiet yawned around them, every footstep as bone-dry and sharp. Somewhere above them a hawk let out a piercing cry.

When Erend could bear the silence no longer he sighed, rubbing a hand over his chin. “I’m sorry.”

“I said for— ”

“No, I mean I’m sorry for ruinin’ your race.” He shrugged without thinking and yelped when his shoulder screamed in response. “I get it, y’know. it’s something that’s just yours. It’s not saving the world or helping —”

Suddenly a realisation struck him. A wide grin spread unbidden across his face.

“Hang on — you set up your Focus to alert you every time I take a hit?”

Aloy glared at him.

Chapter Text

“You can’t be serious.” 

Abadund threw his hands up in exasperation. “Are you kidding? Of course he’s serious.”

The tethered orb loomed ominously behind the two showmen. Erend looked around and wished for rain. Or NEMESIS. Anything would do, at this stage.

“ I can’t go up.” Morlund interrupted his thoughts, gesturing to his splinted arm.

“Why does anyone need to go up?” Erend asked. “This is Aloy we’re talking about. She’s more capable than all of us put together.”

“True, but the last time I got it more than a few feet off the ground - “

“You broke your arm, I know.”

“No, the last time it actually flew . There was an…incident, with a Stormbird.”

“Oh you’re really sellin’ it to me, y’know that?” Erend said sarcastically. “Why can’t Stemmur go with her?"

“Says he’s too old. And besides, can you imagine Stemmur trying to fight a Stormbird? I don’t think he’s lifted a hammer since he left the Claim.”

Erend took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. The orb looked flimsy and insubstantial, and he wasn’t thrilled about the loud creaking noises that were coming from it in the light desert breeze. 

But the thought of telling Aloy he didn’t want to do with her made his chest ache.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go up in your stupid orb.” He grumbled. “But if I get hammered by a Stormbird, it’s your fault.” 

Morlund beamed. Behind him, Abadund’s expression was one of weary resignation as he raised his eyes to the sky in silent prayer.

The twilight air was still and peaceful, broken only by the muted pandemonium of the tavern. 

“This will hold me, right?” Erend tried to keep his voice steady as he peered over the rim of the passenger box. “I don’t trust these…wooden things.”

“I don’t think Oseram steel would get off the ground,” Aloy pointed out as she adjusted the tether rope. Erend winced as it creaked.

“You sure? Should I take my armour off? It’s pretty heavy - ”

Aloy stood up so abruptly she stumbled, tangling the tether in her intricate Carja armour.

“Hey - ”

“It’ll be fine,” she interrupted as she fumbled with the twisted rope. “I mean - you don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to, you know.”

“‘Course I want to,” Erend replied quickly. Too quickly, he thought. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Morlund told you to go up with me, didn’t he?”

“He might have mentioned it, yeah.”

Aloy rolled her eyes. “Do you want to come with me, Erend?”

Yes, he thought desperately.  Anywhere you need to go, anywhere in this whole slagging world, I’ll come with you. Just say the word.

It frightened him how close he was to actually saying it.

“‘Course I do,” he managed to get out instead. “It’s just - are you sure you don’t want me to take my armour off?”

“No,” Aloy replied in a strange voice. The whiteness of her knuckles as she gripped the tether rope did nothing for Erend’s confidence.

If the basket had creaked when he’d leaned on it, it was nothing compared to the noise it made under his boots. It was only the brute force of Erend’s pride that stopped him from vaulting the side and disappearing into the safe depths of Hidden Ember.

Seemingly unperturbed, Aloy pulled on the burner. The flame roared into life between them. 

“Morlund keeps trying to get Abadund to come up in this thing,” she said casually as the ropes between the orb and the basket began to tauten. Erend hid his balled fists behind his back.

When it left the ground, swaying gently, he abandoned all pretence and clutched the side.

“That thing’s secure, right?” Erend tried to keep his voice steady as he gestured to the tether. Aloy looked at him curiously.

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I just - by the forge, will you stop that?” He yelped as she took a step towards him, making the basket rock gently.

“Erend - ”

“Just you - stay there. Until this thing lands again.” He waved a hand in the direction of her voice, eyes steadily on the horizon. The basket shifted again, presumably as Aloy retreated, and Erend closed his eyes against the dizzy panic rising in his chest.

In theory, he knew how the orb flew - he’d read a bunch of data on something called “thermodynamics,” and even understood some of it. It just didn’t seem possible .

Aloy climbs things this high all the time and nothing bad has happened to her, he reminded himself sternly.

Aloy’s also not a big slag like you, another traitorous little voice in his head reminded him. And she has a Shieldwing. He dared not consider whether the Shieldwing would carry both of them. The thought of Aloy’s arms around him, bodies pressed tightly together as they drifted serenely back towards solid ground, made him feel light-headed - not a sensation he relished when he was standing so close to the edge of the basket.

“Keep it together, lug nut,” he whispered to himself. He should never have let Morlund talk him into going up in this stupid thing, Aloy was more than capable of -

Warm skin brushed against his.

Erend stared dumbfounded as her fingers worked their way through his, his hand opening like a flower. Aloy squeezed gently and moved to stand almost flush with him.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly, staring at the sunset.

“What is?”

“Being afraid.”

Erend immediately opened his mouth to protest, but a sudden breeze made the orb bob gently in the night sky and he shrank back from the edge. Somehow - through luck or force of will, he wasn’t sure - he managed to stop his legs from giving way entirely.

“Erend,” Aloy said, in the same voice she used to talk to overridden Thunderjaws. “It’s okay.”

A thick bead of sweat rolled down Erend’s neck. Aloy’s soft eyes followed it.

“Why didn’t you stay down there?” She asked, without accusation. He shrugged weakly.

“Morlund wanted to make sure you were - okay,”

From Aloy’s expression, it was abundantly clear that Morlund’s input in the Stormbird incident had been minimal. Erend quickly added, “I did tell him you could take care of yourself.”

She half-shrugged. “Sometimes it’s nice to have…help.”

“Whoa. Can you say that again? Need to get my Focus to record it for later.”

She snorted. “Shut up.”

“Some help I’d be anyway. Big dumb hammer guy scared of heights.”  

“Don’t say that,” Aloy chastised him. “Being scared isn’t a bad thing.”

“Easy to say when you’re not scared of anything.”

He was being flippant, but the look Aloy gave him in return was unexpectedly intense. Erend was arrested by the depth of her eyes; her expression fractured in a way that made his chest rise up into his throat. 

“Yes I am,” She whispered without taking her eyes away from his. 

Something strange happened to Erend’s insides as she pinned him with that vulnerable expression. The air seemed to burn away with the orb’s flame, the sharp edge of the naked fear in her eyes seared through him until he thought his chest might collapse. 

He was suddenly closer to saying the words that had haunted him since she’d left Meridian after Ersa’s death than he’d ever been before. Even as trepidation reared up, gripping his chest and making him dizzy, he could feel - with some panic - that his heart was taking over, overriding his brain like Aloy did with machines, turning his brain into a completely different animal.

Her fingers were still between his. Erend took a deep breath.

“Aloy, I gotta tell you - “

“Oh,” she interrupted, looking over his shoulder.

Erend blinked as dozens and dozens of pink hearts floated into view as he looked out into Hidden Ember, filling the twilight sky as far as he could see.

“What the - “

“Stemmur’s ornament,” Aloy said, cheeks lit pink by the lights. “He must be - never mind. Shall we go down again?”

Erend whistled through his teeth, trying to hide his disappointment as Aloy tugged her hand out of his. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Aloy grinned at him as she fiddled with the flame, setting the orb to float gently back towards the ground. Erend looked skyward and said a silent word of thanks to gods he didn’t believe in. He was, he decided, going to fall to his knees and kiss the evening-cooled sand the moment the basket was back on the blessedly solid ground. And then he was going to kill Stemmur.