Chapter Text
Today’s weather was perfect, Aloy noticed, even if the patch of grass she was sitting upon proved to be a bit uncomfortable.
Salt Bite’s air on the west riverbank proved to be colder these days. A sharp and prickly temperature cooled her skin as it ran with the wind, slipping along her braids and blowing gently on her face under the safety of the oak tree’s shadow. It was nice weather, she admitted— the type that didn’t require her to tug her scarf higher on her neck or push the layer away to expose herself to the sun.
The river’s water was clear, too, its murmur low, and the fish plentiful. She could see the animals swim about from her place under the tree as they swam around rock clusters drowning blades of grass, weaving their bodies like the light.
As far as she knew, there wasn’t one other soul in five miles that would ruin the mission today.
Not one distraction to interrupt the relentless curiosity of the strange, young creatures exploring the shores with eager steps.
…Which was good, because they were animals that had suddenly gone extinct around 2000 years ago.
Bear cubs. Three, to be exact.
What remained of Salt bite after the battle against NEMESIS had turned into deep ruins of shattered wood and mud— accompanied only by the thriving overgrowth struggling to reclaim it. Its people, ever resilient, had moved somewhere downstream to somewhere more safe, leaving the lake and its small rivers abandoned among the trees and shallow creeks to surround it into a quiet clearing.
Aloy hoped its people would not want to come back just yet, for she’d chosen this river for the bear cubs herself.
They needed the space– The last thing she wanted was for the tribespeople to see them interacting with the cubs, giving the idea that they were harmless or even pets.
It would be a disaster. Not to mention it would bring all of Erend’s hard work to utter waste.
Aloy closed her eyes, drowning the mess of thoughts. Since arriving at the place, one hour had peacefully gone by, even if Aloy couldn't help but keep an eye on every corner– every tree– with her spear sharp at her side.
When she opened them, Erend flooded her gaze, carelessly wading deeper into the water, with heavy boots soaking and trudging along the rocky shore by himself. He kept to his task diligently as he moved, eyes focused intently on the shallow waters as he herded the cubs wading around the river for the first time.
”Ready?” he suddenly called out to her.
It took a moment for her to breathe, and let the stress go. Only when she was ready, she answered.
“Yeah!”
Erend smiled, and then, the sharp sound of his whistle rang.
Aloy then sat back watching the motions of the water as Erend got into position, his arms waving wide and slow as he attempted to herd the cubs further into the falls.
As Erend stood over the water, her hands produced a small pocket knife and an unfinished wooden carving from a pouch in her belt– One of her latest activities when standing watch. That was her role here. To stand watch, just in case anything came up. She’d keep her promise— she was a woman of her word, after all. This was all she’d promised Erend she’d do.
The sharp edge of her knife dragged along the surface of the small piece of wood, hearing Erend’s groan in the distance when one of the cub’s sudden trot splashed ice-cold water into the dry linens of his shirt.
She smiled at the sound, another soft curl of wood falling from the edge of her knife.
Yes, she concluded, today was perfect.
--
“I’m not doing it.”
Erend’s voice echoed through the empty halls, ringing true like a drum. Aloy turned to meet his gaze, hand pulling back mere inches from engaging the main door’s holo-lock open.
His tone had been deep enough to be heard through the whole ruin— but they both knew it would echo endlessly, heard only by dripping stones and eroded walls. His words had been laced with an almost imperceptible sense of worry, body tense as stone and eyes meeting hers as they stood alone in front of the blast doors. That unnerving edge of dread Aloy never got used to hearing from him had been there again, and her brow furrowed at its strange presence.
“What?”
Her question was met with silence. She called his name, hoping he’d meet her gaze again. It failed— making Erend turn away instead. She could see his eyes bouncing off every crease and bend of the hall as he paced back, looking at everything and anything but her.
She scoffed.
“Erend, we need your help here.” She tried again, stepping away from the door and closer to him.
Erend didn’t move under Aloy’s urging gaze— Her eyes searched his, finally finding them after he turned to barely look at her.
“We really shouldn’t do this,” he tried, not quite caring to hide the small sense of worry and annoyance already clearly clawing its way along his spine, “have you tried asking Egghead yet?”
“He’s busy with his own task,” she countered either way, stepping closer to him as she kept her voice down. “As are Alva, Kotallo, Beta, and Zo. They’re all being briefed by GAIA as we speak.”
She tried reassuring him again, this time with less confusion in her voice. She breathed deep, aiming for a gentler tone.
“...You know this already.”
Erend fell silent at that, lips tightening in a thin pressed line.
Not even the latter member could help him now. Zo never got assigned a species, to begin with. And for a good reason. For the past few years she was already busy with a tiny, adorable cub of her own— and even as the Nora had accepted the new mother and offered to help where they could, she didn’t have the time to be a part of ARTEMIS’ second-stage project yet.
She just couldn't afford it.
Which is why Erend would never ask her to take his assignment instead, no matter how badly he wanted to step back from it. He chuckled in defeat.
“I don't understand,” Aloy began, she sighed, hands coming to rest on her hips as a slight tinge of annoyance clawed its way to lace her words as she spoke, “I thought we agreed on this before. What’s making you want to step back?”
“You know what–” Erend growled out, looking Aloy straight in the eye. “I saw what they will turn into, Aloy. GAIA showed me.”
Her eyes searched his expectantly, eyebrows furrowed. He had her attention. Erend took it as his chance to continue.
“What do you think will happen if we throw them back into the world, huh? What if they end up hurting someone? What if they become another threat? We– We had enough of them back then, remember? With giant, deadly machine versions of them just… walking around.” He finally steels himself, each breath deep in his chest. “We can't release them!”
He then fell silent, a sour expression set deep in his otherwise soft features. A small part of Aloy wished she could soothe the deep frown of his brows, but she turned her head to the side in bitter frustration instead, churning his words inside her head. The quiet only stretched longer, cut by the sound of Erend sliding down the wall to sit on the floor as the deep sense of worry finally took over every nerve of his body.
“Aloy… I’m sorry, I–” he mumbled, searching her gaze with eyes flooding with a begging apology. She visibly softened at the sound. “...Are you sure about this?” He pleaded. Aloy’s gaze turned to him again, considering his next words. “You know I trust you. Even if they’re not really a threat— I just— I’m no good with living things. I can't take care of them. You said they’re valuable, right? I know ARTEMIS has only a handful of them. So… what if they die on me? What if none survive?”
After one, two deep breaths, the silence reclaimed its rightful place between them, heeding the once sharp talons digging at their chests to turn dull like an old soldier tired of the war.
… she gets it now.
Aloy caved, sliding down the wall to sit next to him. Coming up with a response wasn’t easy— not even with a subject like this. Their arms brushed together as they breathed, and the contact was swiftly greeted by their skins. It encouraged Aloy to try and be a bit softer this time, match his warmth with her words.
“...You’re right,” she murmured beside him, “they can be dangerous.” Erend hadn’t expected those words to be the ones to come out of her mouth, and his eyes turned to meet hers in the darkness of the hall. She took her chance to speak further, and turned to add; “...But, they are important, which is why we need to do this— You and me. With the wolf embryos gone, those bears are the final link to balance what’s left of the northern ecosystem— So, yes. They’re very valuable.” She confessed, figuring there was no sense in lying.
Not to him.
She closed her eyes, blowing air through her nose in a quiet exhale. A few moments passed, and she turned, finding Erend still looking intently at her.
“Without them, plant life may not survive on its own. And without those plants, the other tribes won't have anything to eat, or patch up… It’s all connected,” she motioned, interlocking the fingers of her hands, “You know— world machine,” she smiled.
He mirrored her smile at the familiar term, making the growing warmth inside Aloy’s chest strengthen.
“The bears won’t come close to any settlement,” she continued, “APOLLO mentioned they avoid people almost all the time— and even if they did, I’m sure they won't be interested in harming anyone.”
“...How can you be so sure?” Erend asked, “I mean– They’re— you know,” He aimlessly motioned with his hands, moving them in a shape he hoped she could tell was a circle. “...Big.”
When another silence threatened to stretch between them, Aloy unbraided her fingers, raising her hand so it could rest atop his in a quiet act of reassurance with a held breath.
“I promise they won't hurt anyone unless threatened. I know ARTEMIS will handle all of it.”
The uneasy tension around them shifted into something more– angst dissipating like smoke the second the skin of her hand perched itself on top of his. Her chest filled with warmth at the act— More than what she wanted to say was begging to come out, threatening her with the overwhelming knot forming in her throat and the racing blood roaring in her ears. Getting overwhelmed like this was easy when she got close to him, but time and a strong sense of will had allowed her to hone the skill of keeping a feeble mask of control, wearing it with ease.
“You just have to trust me on this one,” was all she said.
His hand was big. Scarred. A silent reminder of how strong and resilient he could be. The same hands that wielded hammers and broke down tyrants would soon be used to heal and nurture again— she figured the change must be hard.
Last time he did it, she reminded herself, he’d been alone.
She wished he hadn't been— She knew things couldn't have been different then, but they could be now. He didn’t need her, yet still, she wanted to be by his side this time. Make things easier.
“I’ll be there if you need me,” she promised, fingers curling around his in hopes of solidifying her words' meaning. Erend’s eyes fell on their joined hands, and he took a second more to just remember it, granting her with a small smile.
Their gaze remained held onto each other for a second that seemed to burn longer— Slower— Erend’s fingers twitched, and he finally breathed out, following with the same weak smile— Thin and bright as a firefly.
“Always saving my ass, huh?” he teased, head turning to her as the smile turned bigger.
“I like saving your ass,” she smiled back.
Erend hummed, twisting his hand to squeeze her fingers in his.
After a few heartbeats, Aloy did the same, squeezing him back for a few seconds as they sat together before, softly, they let eachother go.
“Ursus arctos, huh?” he sighed, voice deep and solemn and sounding like the Utaru when they pronounced their land-god’s names. The words came unpracticed, Aloy noticed, the strange name foreign on his tongue. “...Already sounds like a handful.” He joked.
Aloy couldn't help but chuckle.
A comfortable silence surrounded them again, this time, more intimately. Despite the charged tension from their earlier conversation beginning to fade away, Aloy found herself watching Erend out of the corner of her eye as he thought to himself, eyes fixed on a small plant growing from a thin crack in the wall.
Yeah, they could do it.
With his knowledge of the area the animals would be released in paired up with his size and strength, he would do the job perfectly. It was just a few months of work— Just a few months, and the cubs would be released farther up the Claim.
Sticking along would prove to be nice, too— especially if it meant making Erend feel not so alone. She could be there for him in the same way he was there for her, standing by and ready for when she needed him. Spear and Hammer— a voice echoed in her head.
Hammer and Spear—
When the lines of Erend’s soft lips threatened to dip into a small pout as he got lost in thought, Aloy felt the prickling need to tease him. A new idea formed up, and she readied her words.
“...I mean, you can still ask Sylens, if you want,” she tentatively began, body shifting to bump her shoulder into his, “I’m sure he wouldn't mind–”
“Very funny,” Erend quickly replied, bumping her back with the strength and confidence in his voice fully restored. The mood finally settled into something lighter, and Erend’s arm, firm and strong, slid against hers when his chest rose. Aloy took comfort in that last flicker of warmth before they had to get up again, feeling a quiet tremble run down her spine when Erend did the same thing again.
“Okay,” he said decisively, “you got me.”
Aloy’s lips tugged at the edges in triumphant smile, which then broke into a full grin as she stood up. Erend mirrored her again, and with a little bit of effort, she pulled him up, hands tightly clasped with his as he came to his own feet.
“I’ll do it,” he assured her, “if GAIA has the latest gossip on these things, I bet she could help me with what I need.” With a quick hand he dusted himself off, dirt coming off his clothes in small plumes. “I won't let you down.”
“I know,” Aloy answered, hands still grasped in his, “you never do.”
Their hands didn’t want to let go— The dim light of the blast doors painted them both in a frail, purple hue, and Aloy took a second to mind to remember it. Erend’s warm smile was full of determination now, bright and kind as she remembers— it stretched as he spoke, and the accentuated words came with a reassuring squeeze of her hand as the holo lock waited to be opened.
“Let’s do it.”