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By the time they returned to their camp, their cloth bags contained blueberries, watercress, dandelions, a plant with arrowhead leaves and round bulbs that the Drifter called ‘water-potatoes,’ pigweed, wild mustard, several kinds of mint, violets, sorrel and the chicken of the woods mushrooms.
“I didn’t think we’d find so much.”
“That was just a couple hours. And we only took the best stuff, not the stuff that’s edible but tastes like shit. There’s lots of that around here too.”
“So much better than Europa…”
“Heh.”
“Or Io”
“Yeah,” he whispered, a tremor in his voice.
“What is the matter?”
“Huh?”
“You sounded so sad there for a moment.”
“Ah… I just have no poker face when I’m around you, Moondust. You’d best not come hang around when I’m gamblin’ - I’ll lose every hand.”
“Hmmm…”
“Let’s get you your table and chairs setup first ok? Then we can do confession time if you really want.”
“Very well.”
The table needed a rock and some folded leaves under two legs due to the uneven stone on the ground, but eventually Eris found herself set up at a reasonably stable desk-like surface with her books, some hive leather, a sharp stone, and a cup of tea. Her soulfire orb hovered a few inches above the fingertips of her left hand. The Drifter folded an empty cloth bag and placed it on the side of the table. She smiled and the orb drifted over to softly rest on the cloth.
“Next time we should bring a canopy for a bit of shade and protection from rain. Do make sure you don’t leave your books out overnight or the damp will get in. That mist in the morning rolls over everything.”
“They’re vellum, not paper, so they would be fine, but I agree they should be away when not in use. Some of the pages have hive runes and should only be perceived mindfully.”
He began pulling the various edible things they’d foraged out of the bags and laying them out on the rocks.
“All right, I’ll bite. What’s vellum?”
“Cured skin.”
“What?” He looked up at her, leaves in one hand. “You mean to tell me your books are written on skin?”
“Yes. Mostly stretched hive leather, but there are exceptions.”
“Seriously?”
“It is one of the most plentiful resources on the moon.”
“So… all those books you got, in all those shelves…”
“Not all… a large portion of them, though, yes.”
“You have a lot of books, Moondust.”
She smiled sweetly. “I’ve killed a lot of hive.”
“Huh. You have any made from human skin?”
“Not with me currently.”
“Currently!” The Drifter blinked and cleared his throat.
“Human skin makes very low quality vellum. It is very thin and tears easily.” She sipped her tea. “The only reason to use it as a writing surface would be for the intimidation factor. I have not personally created any books with human skin… yet…” She smiled sweetly again. “Cabal skin, on the other hand, is quite thick and pliable.”
“And people freak out when I talk about eatin’ funky shit.”
“There are many reasons we are compatible, you and I.” She paused. “Hmmm…” She leaned her chin on her hand and watched him. “You are blushing.”
“You ain’t previously talked about us being compatible before.”
She sipped her tea, watching him. “We are. Very. You were first to point it out… Peas in a pod, I believe, was the phrase.”
“Yeah. Yeah it was. Didn’t think you’d even remember that. How do you even see if I’m blushing? You can’t tell the difference between light gray an bubblegum pink.”
“I can see your light. And right now, there’s considerably more of it in your face than usual. Likely corresponding with your blood flow.”
“No wonder I can’t get anything past you. You’re a human lie detector.”
“Yes.” Another sip of tea.
“Wait, if you can see that…”
She smirked.
“Holy shit.” He turned away and stood, running his fingers through his hair.
She sipped her tea. “You said after we set up the table and chairs, we would have… confession time.”
He looked back at her. “I am still trying to process the fact that all those times you and I were in the same space and I thought I was playing it cool about how much I fucking wanted you…that you…knew…”
“First of all, you are deflecting again, second of all, I wasn’t always sure, but yes, after a while, I knew.”
“That time on my ship… when I asked you about Sloane… and you touched my arm… I musta lit up like fireworks.”
She smiled softly. “You did. And then your whole body relaxed at my touch, which was, honestly, even more beautiful to me.”
“Ok seriously.” He pulled up the other folding chair and sat across the table from her, leaning over and pointing at her. “If you knew that, why the hell didn’t you kiss me then?”
“I was afraid of…”
“Nope. I don’t buy that. You ain’t afraid of nothing.”
“I was afraid of hurting you.”
He blinked. “Why?”
Her eyes flashed. “Because you have been hurt enough.”
He looked away for a moment.
“What…” he looked back at her, “made you stop being afraid of that?”
“Nothing.” She reached out and took his hand. “I still am.”
“I guess that’s one of the reasons why I trust you so completely.” He squeezed her hand. “You actually care about making sure you don’t.”
“Yes.”
The fire snapped loudly, startling both of them.
“Ha! Want more tea?”
“Yes…” She handed him her mug. “And then you can tell me about Io.”
“Ugh. Fine.” He took her mug to the fire.
“Did you think I’d forget?”
“Nope. Ya never do.”
“Germaine…”
“Yeah?”
“What colour is your shirt?”
“Green, Moondust. Dark green. Pants are dark brown. Boots, a different brown. And this mug yer drinking outta is the blue one.”
“I remember. It has a different shape.”
He returned with the steaming mug and placed it down in front of her.
She folded her arms and leaned forward on the table, waiting.
“So.. It ain’t actually about Io. It’s more… well ya see… I.. I spied on ya. Not in the moment… but after the fact…”
She rested her chin on her hand. “Explain.”
“You know how much I hate bein’ spied on.”
“I do.”
“So I was in the Hidden archives, doin’ as one does, when one is in the library of one’s enemy, and lookin’ myself up to see what dirt they had on me.”
She laughed. “Of course you would do that.”
“An there I found a transcript of every damn thing you and I said to each other on Io. Like… everything. Every radio bit while we were helping the Guardian. You callin’ me a meretricious rogue. Me tellin’ you I looked it up. You threatening to throw me outta an airlock. Telling me you’d love to kill me. And so of course I read through every word and memorized it because… well… you know how I like listenin’ to you talk.”
She smiled.
“And a thing about Hidden files, which I’m sure you know, is they cross reference shit. And one bit linked to a different set of files. The reports you were sending in at the time. They transcribed them from yer hive leather and put notes on them like how deep the cuts were when you were upset. You were upset a lot.”
The flirtiness had left his voice.
“That was a difficult time.”
“You were fucking starving.” He said flatly.
“It’s true, I was not… doing well…”
“Pemmican and vitamin paste. Hoping to grow pineapples, whatever the fuck those are, for a chance at some sorta fresh food.” An angry edge began to creep into his voice.
“Yes.”
“You’ve seen the Derelict, Moondust. You know what I got on there. I was floating above you with an entire damn garden. I was making food every night, thinkin’ back on what mean things you’d said to me that day… thinkin’ about what else I could say to make ya mad the next day… because you are so damn hot when you’re mad and spitting fire at me over comms. And you…”
His voice cracked.
“...you were alone on the surface right below me… hungry… craving real food… you were losing yer damn mind from the darkness whisperin’ shit at ya and not having enough to eat, no one to talk to… no one to just be there for you… you were so damn alone.”
His hands clenched into fists as he talked.
“I was.”
“So that’s how I ended up sitting in the Hidden archives, bawling my eyes out, feeling like the biggest piece of shit to ever walk around on two legs. And I promised myself that I would make damn sure I never again shoved my head that far up my own ass as to be giggling over dinner while the person I was in the process of falling ass over teakettle in love with was right below me fucking starving.”
Recognition flitted through her face. Eris reached across the table and put her hands on top of his shaking fists.
…Can we eat first?
I bring an offering for the hive god of vengeance.
I'm bringing you dinner tonight. Whatcha want?
You never had crawdad stew?
...wish she was also a pillar of food
I get to know everyone’s favourite hive god has had a decent meal
You don't want to stay for dinner?
...something more than nasty rations
Eat that while you’re thinking. It’s part of that counsel you asked for.
A dozen tiny puzzle pieces clicked together in Eris’ brain all at once.
“That’s not fair.” She rubbed her thumbs along the sides of his clenched hands, attempting to smooth away the rage. “You didn’t know.”
“I shoulda bothered to find out.” He practically spit the words. “I was so wrapped up in how you made me feel I didn’t bother to find out how you were feeling.” His voice became a hoarse whisper. “Of all people… if there’s one person who should never… ever… be ok with sitting pretty stuffing their face while someone they care for is being driven nuts from hunger… starving…”
She could feel the skin on his knuckles being pulled thin from how tightly he was clenching his hands.
“After all that you have done for me, you are still unable to forgive yourself.”
“I ain’t gonna. I’m gonna be mad about it till I’m dead-dead. That way I don’t forget.” His eyes were cold with fury.
“I forgive you.”
“I don’t care.”
Eris let go of his hands and stood up. He sat in the folding chair, radiating anger, not looking at her. She walked around the table and knelt on the ground next to him, slipping her arms around his waist, pressing the side of her face into his chest, her ear next to his heart, and held him close.
She felt his breath rush into his lungs. His hands unclenched and gently, tentatively, came to rest on her arms, shaking. He kissed the top of her head with reverence and then slid off the chair to his knees in order to be more fully enveloped in her arms, his own arms wrapping tight around her waist and her back, as though he could bury himself in her. As though the world was swirling around him and she was the one bit of calm in the chaos that he could cling to in order to survive.
“You… you meant what you said before, right?” he whispered, his words coming quickly beside her ear, “about my tears being a gift and you wantin’ to hold ‘em?”
“Yes,” she whispered back, her head leaning against his.
“That include the angry ones?”
“Yes.”
“Ok good ‘cause apparently I ain’t done givin’ you gifts yet.”