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The stars twinkled down at her teasingly, the moon fat and full as it sat in the clear sky. Ren'ya lay still on the makeshift bed, counting the constellations she recognised in an attempt to fall asleep.
The sound of quiet breathing from the sea elf next to her usually served as a soothing distraction from her thoughts, but tonight, all they did was agitate her further.
Tanelye was lying with one arm draped over her waist, Ren'ya's head buried in the crook of her neck despite the drow being taller. She held Ren'ya close, her grasp gentle but firm, and Ren'ya could feel the toned muscles underneath the seaweed wraps on her arm.
She was always curled around Ren'ya, her body facing outward as if blocking off the rest of the world. If anyone attacked them while they were sleeping, they would strike Tanelye first. It was both a protective and affectionate gesture, a show of how much she cared.
Ren'ya hated it.
I shouldn't be someone you care about.
The fighter has seen Ren'ya kill before, seen how quick and cruel her movements were. How she had clearly been trained to do it. Trained to show no mercy to her opponents.
She has seen the contempt Ren'ya expresses, the anger, the disregard for righteous claims by other adventurers the party had met.
She knows the bitter resentment rooted deep in Ren'ya's mind, the hatred towards the world, towards herself, towards the Gods and whatever the hell else was out there.
And yet, Tanelye still treats her with care. There is no pity or disgust in her eyes when she looks at the drow, there is no caution or false sweetness in her movements when she is around Ren'ya.
She never saw a drow, or an outcast, or a murderer, or a monster. To her, Ren'ya was simply a person, without the blood on her hands or the family emblem concealed beneath her cloak.
To Tanelye, who she was doesn't matter. And the question Ren'ya had never dared to ask was why. Because the answer could confirm her own lingering sense that this wasn't true, this wasn't real. There must be something Tanelye needed from her, and once she got it she would leave, and Ren'ya didn't want to admit that to herself yet.
And now they were laying tangled together, with messy hair and beating hearts and stupidly complicated feelings.
She couldn't bear it for one moment longer.
Ren'ya sat up abruptly, shifting out of the sea elf's grasp to put a little, a bit, anything at all, just some kind of distance between them.
Tanelye blinked at the sudden movement, yawning and propping herself up on her elbows to shoot a curious look at Ren'ya.
"Something wrong? You needa pee? Or did I get too close again? I can sleep away from you tonight if that's what you'd be more comfortable with."
Stop being so considerate, for Gods' sakes.
She avoided Tanelye's gaze, settling for counting the leaves of a bush instead. A moment of silence stretched on between them before Ren'ya glanced back at Tanelye to see her waiting patiently, her brow furrowed slightly in concern.
There was another long pause before Ren'ya spoke, her voice low and quiet. "You're so casual about this. Like it's natural to be kindhearted with me, as if I deserve it."
Tanelye cocks her head to the side, her expression growing more puzzled. "Ren'ya, what are you-"
"It shouldn't be like this! You shouldn't be worried about my feelings, about my safety, about anything to do with me. I'm not, I'm not a person who can give you happiness, you know this, you know me, and yet you still stay."
She stops, searching the sea elf's face for some kind of reason, or explanation, anything. And the word that's been eating at her all this time hangs off the tip of her tongue.
Why?
Tanelye opens her mouth to respond and closes it again, studying her with curious eyes. Ren'ya can see the hesitation etched into her body language, the feelings in her eyes tangling in her throat and getting stuck there.
Ren'ya takes her webbed hands gently, but pleadingly, with the desperation of a beggar clinging to a noble.
How do you see me, from where you stand?
What could I possibly be worth, to someone like you?
She didn't speak, an aching longing in her chest that couldn't be put into words, an inexplicable feeling of want that her tongue would stumble over and warp into a different meaning. Something so intense Ren'ya could not express it with body nor mind, she could only hold it in her heart and wait until it burst out of her chest and tore her apart, breaking the walls she had built around herself all these years.
So she remained silent, gazing into the sea elf's eyes and seeing her own reflected back at her, a sense of longing and curiosity lingering in her gaze.
Tanelye stared at her for a long moment, with such a mixture of emotions that her face shifted into an unreadable expression, changing from caring, to confused, wary, affectionate, concerned, frustrated and hesitant all at the same time.
Her eyes softened, the small fins that resembled eyelashes crinkling around the edges. Ren'ya felt herself being seen, all at once, for everything she had been and anything she could be. Tanelye was looking beyond the drow, and instead painting a picture of what Ren'ya was to her in her mind, perhaps to be able to sort it into words to be spoken, or maybe to put into flesh to be seen, but the feeling rooted itself in Ren'ya nonetheless.
Don't look at me as if I am something.
It was much easier to be nothing in this world. To be insignificant. A footnote in history. A mere stain on holy records. It was one thing to simply exist, and another to truly live.
Ren'ya had wanted to remain nothing, because if she was something, if she had anything, there was always the risk of losing it. It was better to always be nothing than to be something and become worthless right after.
Ren'ya had never done more than she needed, never tried to become anything more than she already was. But the way Tanelye was gazing at her now, like she was so much more than what she felt like, like her existence had meaning, it terrified her.
She had never been more vulnerable than this, not in the eyes of her family, not in the eyes of the Gods, not in the eyes of anyone but this woman, this soul that had called out to hers and dragged her down into an abyss too deep to climb out of.
Why am I something to you, when I am next to nothing to myself?
Tanelye lifted her hands slowly from Ren'ya's grasp to cup her face tenderly, tracing her jawline with her thumb.
And in that moment, Ren'ya wanted nothing more than for Tanelye to rip her apart, break her until everything spilled out and she was left raw and bleeding in the sea elf's arms, stripped down to her rotten core.
To let her build Ren'ya back up again, piece by piece, melded together until the cracks in her heart were filled, ready to be shattered once more when the time came.
She raised her hand to wrap it around the nape of the sea elf's scaly neck, her fingers tracing circles on the skin gently, before tugging her head forward and slamming their lips together.
Tanelye let out a muffled noise of surprise, her eyes widening for a brief moment before she was kissing back, her webbed fingers reaching up to tangle in Ren'ya's hair while the other hand caressed her face.
Ren'ya was a fool, a greedy, selfish, weak, pathetic idiot who craved affection but hated it at the same time. This whole ordeal would end sooner or later, Ren'ya would make a mistake, or she'd piss off the wheel of fate and everything would come crashing down all over again.
But Gods, they were young and stupid and they melted together, to ease the pain of their own scars by tearing open the other's. Tanelye saw something in Ren'ya that she could not, something she didn't dare to believe was there.
There was nothing tender or loving about the way Ren'ya' hands wrapped around the sea elf's back, her nails digging into the skin like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood. Nothing gentle about the way Tanelye's grip on her hair tightened, her webbed hands shifting to tug at her scalp.
They kissed with the desperation of two people who needed to know they were alive, with the hunger of children who had been denied praise and protection. With breathless gasps and rough teeth and needy tongues.
Tanelye yanked her head up by her hair roughly, exposing Ren'ya's neck as the sea elf's other hand moved to grasp her waist, pulling her closer with a forceful tug.
She wasn't slow or soft with her movements, her strength from years of being a trained fighter made clear as she shifted Ren'ya's body weight with no more effort than if she were made of feathers.
Ren'ya appreciated it. She didn't want to be treated with sweetness or softness; it was unnatural, it was wrong. It was a lie told to spoiled children about the world, because in real life nothing is careful with your heart.
I am not fragile, but I know you can break me.
I would let you, if you wanted to.
Tanelye pressed kisses to her collarbone, trailing her lips up her neck hungrily as the sea elf's fangs just barely graze her skin. It was teasing and slow, her way of asking if she was allowed to continue.
Ren'ya answers by moving to straddle her lap, squeezing her waist firmly with her thighs and grinding her hips against the other woman's with the same teasing movements.
She feels Tanelye's lips curl up into a small smile as she presses one last kiss to Ren'ya's neck, before leaning down and biting down on a sensitive spot, her pointed teeth tearing at the smooth skin.
A hum of pleasure escapes her lips as she squeezes harder with her thighs, squirming a little before Tanelye tightens her grip on Ren'ya's waist, her fingers digging into her hips and holding her in place.
Tanelye places careful markings all over her neck, pressing kisses to each tear and bruise on her skin. Ren'ya bites her tongue, stifling a gasp as she feels sharp fangs sinking into the crook of her neck, her skin tingling at the feeling.
"Don't do that." Tanelye licks the sore spot to soothe the purple bruise already forming, her breathing slightly ragged. "Don't hold it in. Let me hear you."
You shouldn't want to hear me.
As if responding to her thoughts, Tanelye suddenly bites down harder, her hands sliding down to caress Ren'ya's thighs. She lets out a low moan, her fingers reaching up to dig into the sea elf's shaggy hair and tangle in the strands.
She lets Tanelye kiss the spot for a few seconds more, before leaning down to bite her bottom lip, her hands moving to rest just under her chest, tracing patterns across the scaly skin.
And then they melt together, their bodies meeting each other like the ocean meets the earth, like the moon meets the sun, like stars colliding together as they fall from the sky.
Show me what you want from me.
There must be something you crave out of my withering heart.
Take it and go.
Please.
That would be a kinder fate.
_____________
Ren'ya watches the stars once again, noting the pink edges of the sky, a sign of dawn steadily approaching. Sleep won't come easily, if at all, especially after tonight.
Tanelye lays next to her once more, one arm around her shoulder gently, careful not to press too hard against the markings that now decorate her collarbone.
This time it isn't Ren'ya who breaks the silence, the sea elf shifting slightly and turning to face her, the grass rustling softly at the movement.
She meets Ren'ya's gaze for a moment before glancing back up at the sky, her voice thoughtful. "Do I need a reason?"
Ren'ya raises one eyebrow, shooting Tanelye a quizzical look. "Huh?"
"Do I need a reason to care about you? A goal, a desire? None of that matters to me. I love you Ren'ya, as you are. Why can't just the fact that you're you be enough?"
She looks back at Ren'ya, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Are you not enough for yourself?"
Am I?
She didn't feel like she was. But she was enough for Tanelye, and that poked at a little voice, a small feeling in her chest that had been buried for such a long time she'd forgotten it even existed.
"I don't know. Not yet, at least."
Tanelye's expression softens into a warm smile as she slips her hand into Ren'ya's own, intertwining their fingers. "That's a start."
And as they lie together, watching the sun rise over the treetops, Ren'ya thinks that maybe, maybe one day she could be enough. Just barely enough.