Work Text:
The clear liquid oozed slowly between the interlocking panels, glinting in the soft, golden light of the crystals embedded into the wall. She dipped the pipette back into the glass bottle and filled the little tube again, moving over to the next joint slowly and letting another drop fall into the cracks.
That smell of fresh-cut wood with a slight chemical edge was a favourite of hers; it meant that she was almost at the end of a project that would often take her months or years. This one had been just over a year in the making. Ri’kara hoped it would be worth it.
Putting the bottle to the side, she very delicately bent each finger of the mechanical hand, testing the articulation with a slowly growing satisfaction. For a moment, she laced hers and its fingers together, crest flushing a little as she imagined what it would be like to do the same with the owner once it had been attached.
With a wistful sigh, she moved to the elbow, twisting it back and forth and bending, then the top of the limb, the part that would attach to the amputee’s stump. All working perfectly.
The leg was a little more difficult to test on her own. She heaved the thing over to her bed rather than her work chair since it was much taller and began the same procedure, taking particular care with the joints of the toes to make sure the whole thing was balanced.
“By the void, finally.” She muttered to herself, squeezing her hands together and resisting the urge to jump around the room and shriek. She’d done it; it was perfect.
Glancing outside, the little Tal’darim winced. The sky had begun to slowly shift towards a deep blue on the horizon, and the stars had begun to fade; sunrise would be much sooner than she had expected.
“Fuck…”
Quietly, she put the limbs back where they had been resting in various stages of construction and wiped her hands off with a clean rag, her eyes suddenly burning at the realisation that she had kept them open for almost a full night. She hadn’t done that in a while.
Not bothering to do any more than climb up and flop against her pillows, Ri’kara closed her eyes and allowed the exhaustion to wash over her.
She cracked her eyes open only a few hours later, the sunrise streaming through the window and right onto her face, rudely announcing the fact that she had forgotten to close her curtains before her collapse into bed.
“Ugh…” Curling up, she pulled one of her pillows over her head so that she could properly look around without being blinded.
The newly finished prosthetics sat neatly where she had left them, carefully polished and glistening in the sunlight. A sliver of excitement slid down her spine, and she smiled. She couldn’t wait to see Alarak’s reaction. She couldn’t wait to finally get rid of that uncomfortable, run-down piece of junk he still had to use as a leg.
Listening intently to the silence of the house, Ri’kara gently got out of bed, grabbing a change of clothing, opening her bedroom door slowly, and creeping down the stairs to the washroom. Thankfully, the door was open, so she didn’t have to wonder if he’d already somehow got up without her noticing.
Standing on the stool against the sink, she washed her face to try and chase away the drowsiness that still lingered around her eyes before beginning a bath, undressing and folding her current clothing to be put to wash.
As she sank into the water, she heard the floor above creak and couldn’t help but smile to herself, grabbing her soap to scrub herself down. At the very least she wouldn’t have to wait long to give him his gifts.
After the scrubbing, she sat back against the bench to soak in the hot water, letting her tired muscles unwind themselves; it was very difficult then not to fall right back to sleep. She should have probably finished up the polishing and joint check this morning, but she had been so engrossed that she couldn’t help but stay up for half the night. Her eyes began to slip closed—
A knock shocked them open again, and she instinctively dipped herself low until she was barely peeking over the water. Not that he would have barged in, not after the first couple of times.
“Yes?”
“I thought the door had been left closed.” Alarak’s voice was lethargic, laced with a soft gravelly tone. “Are you bathing?”
“I am; I’m almost done. Should I leave the water?”
“Please.”
Nodding even though she couldn’t see him, Ri’kara pulled herself out of the bath, sighing a little. Maybe she would have to wait a while.
She quickly patted herself dry and pulled on her fresh robes, not bothering to do anything with her cords but run some cream through them; she had nowhere to be today, so she could ask her companion to braid them for her.
With his new arm. A smile once again crept across her eyes as she made her way to the door.
He was waiting in a patch of sun, tilting his head as he looked her over before getting to his feet, saying nothing.
“The water’s still hot.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, and I need to talk to you when you’re done.”
His eyes narrowed; his whole body seemed to tense. “What about?”
“Nothing bad, but it is a surprise, so I’m not saying anything else.”
That only made him look more suspicious, but he nodded. “… Alright.”
Only after he’d gone into the washroom did she break into a run, flying up the stairs and diving into her room to grab her creations.
Carefully, she pulled the leg over one shoulder, and held the arm under her own, this time slowly making her way back down and into the living room, where she placed both limbs by the sofa three different ways before she was satisfied with their presentation.
Then, she went back into the conservatory to sit in the sun and try not to stare intently at the washroom door until he was done.
Finally, the door opened, and he emerged, face and crest still slightly flushed from the steam.
“Alright. What is it?”
For a moment, she stared at him, completely forgetting the limbs in the other room, completely forgetting what she had even said to him to prompt the question. Every so often, more frequently now that they were properly comfortable, she was struck with how handsome he was, and that ball of yearning that had been locked away while she was angry made itself known again.
“Ri’kara?” He prompted, once again narrowing his eyes at her.
“Oh!” She pulled herself from her reverie and sprang to her feet, rushing to the conservatory door and holding it open so she could gesture to the archway out in the hall, smiling. “There’s something in the living room for you. Two things.”
Her companion was, for a moment, a little stunned. Maybe he’d been expecting a serious conversation even if she had reassured him, maybe he was offput by her excitement. Either way, he just blinked, then nodded, following her through to where her work was waiting.
“You are in high spirits.”
“Yes, I’m excited, ok? I think you’ll like my surprise.”
“Only because it is you.”
Stepping through the arch, the little Tal’darim hopped excitedly to where she had presented them and stretched out her arms.
“Ta-da!”
He stared at the two limbs, rooted to the hallway floor. His eyes darted back and forth between her and the prosthetics, though he once again said nothing; it wasn’t often she could make him speechless.
She answered the clear question she saw on his face. “I made them. It’s been a long time, and I’m sorry you haven’t had an arm for a while, but—”
“It… is fine.” He carefully seated himself, parted his robes to take off his old leg, and pulled the new leg over.
There was something careful about his movements that hadn’t been there with the old limb, a reverence in his eyes as he got familiar with the new attachment method and moved the joints back and forth. It was the gentlest she had seen him since the after the solstice.
Ri’kara sat herself down on the sofa beside him, legs crossed as she tried her best not to prompt him, even as she almost shook with excitement. Already there were a million questions racing in her mind.
He pulled the opening over his stump and made sure it was firmly secured, tilting his head. His face had fallen into a frown as though he had been prepared to have to concentrate. He gave her a look.
“You made this one handed?”
“Yes. I know you struggled with the old one after everything, so I wanted to make sure.”
His eyes softened and he stood, doing a short, experimental walk around the room, keeping the skirt of his robes up and out of the way. In the first few steps, he kept his organic foot on its toes, frowning slightly at the way the mechanical one stretched onto its own tiptoes.
“You can put your foot down.” She said softly, glancing at the heel in the boot of his old one.
As he did so, the joints in his leg popped, and he winced, lifting his foot up to roll the joint a few times before properly laying it on the floor again.
“That will take some getting used to.”
“If it ends up being too uncomfortable, I can always put a heel in.”
He nodded, and after another circle of the room, he sat back down, stretching his organic leg out and wincing again. Despite that, he looked at her with that same soft expression and then reached for the arm, beginning to chuckle as he held up another skin-tight tube.
“Tch. Another sleeve?”
“You need to protect your stumps; it’s not good for you to just have bare metal on them.”
“It did nothing but hinder the psionic connection on my old leg—”
“Well, the sensors I put in the fabric clearly weren’t compatible. The amount of blood and grime in there didn’t help matters. You might have noticed it was easier to move with your new one; the arm sleeve is the same.”
“Fine.”
Pulling his robes down to get the stump out, he slipped the other fabric on, and then carefully put the arm on over it. It took him a few tries to get the correct orientation, and then it was secured.
Lifting the hand up to examine it, Alarak carefully moved the fingers back and forth, watching the mechanisms move. There was a strangely wistful look on his face that she didn’t think she’d ever seen before, as though, for a moment, his own arm had grown back for him.
“… I had wondered why Artanis only had the operation for my cords arranged.”
“I’m sorry it took so long. I told the Hierarch that… Well, I don’t know why, but I didn’t like the idea of anyone else making them, even if I never saw you again. I got some advice from a couple of other smiths and—”
He must not have been thinking, leaning forward and taking her face in both hands, cutting off her explanation. The metal was as warm as the organic now that it was connected to him, both thumbs managing to move in tandem as they stroked her cheeks and he kept his gaze firmly fixed on hers.
“Thank you.”
She wasn’t thinking either. There was such gravity to his thanks that she completely forgot what she was going to say. All she could do was nod, holding his wrists and lifting herself a little on her knees to get closer, close enough that he could kiss her if she wanted. The thought made her abdomen squeeze; at that moment she wanted it more than anything…
After another moment of charged silence, his eyes slid down, stopping at that cord with both clasps, and the spell was suddenly broken. He let go quickly, moving away from her with a soft frown.
She reached up and rolled both of them between her fingers, a twinge of regret stabbing through her. Of course she couldn’t want that, not yet… She hadn’t even given him an answer. From his expression, she suspected he was thinking something similar.
“How… How is it, then?”
“It is easy to articulate. I will require practice, but that will come with time.” He hesitated, glancing at her, then added; “Touch transmits accurately as well.”
“… And the leg?”
“More comfortable, even with the change to my height.” He chuckled a little. “I may decide I could actually run with this one once I am used to it. How you managed to guess at my measurements so accurately is beyond me.”
Ri’kara shrugged. “I didn’t. I met with Zy’mun.”
Alarak snapped his head towards her, narrowing his eyes.
“When?”
“After you’d gone. I spoke with Arun first; I thought he’d know, but he pointed me to Zy’mun instead. I ended up meeting everyone.”
He said nothing, gaze flickering back and forth as though remembering something, seeing a memory she couldn’t. Finally, he sighed.
“I suppose they bombarded you with questions.”
“Yes.” The memory of Nyra’s soft, attentive fixation on her unexpectedly made her crest flush. “Nyra seemed especially interested in asking as much as she could get out of me.”
At that, Alarak rolled his eyes so hard his head moved with them, scoffing. “Of course you would be exactly her type.”
Her face took on the same lilac hue. “I don’t think that’s why—”
“You did not have to endure her drunken reminiscence of her escapades before her imprisonment. That is exactly why she was interested; such small talk is usually never worth her time.”
“Oh.”
He glanced at her again and let out another chuckle. “It is fascinating how easily you forget that you are desirable, Ri’kara. I suppose Ka’tor and Ra’noch were the same, hm?”
She pressed her cool hands to her face, unable to look him in the eye. They had been gentle, soft, had spoken to her politely and hadn’t once taken their eyes off her when she answered what she felt she could, as though hanging off every word. It felt strange to look back on it that way. She shook her head.
“They were, but I don’t believe you.”
“And why is that? I should think I know them better.”
“Nobody has ever once told me! I keep getting these comments from Uljia, and Iruna, and now from you that these Protoss that I have interacted with found me ‘attractive’, but never once has one of them actually said it. I would have thought that if I were as pretty as my friends have told me that someone would have said something about it in the six hundred years I’ve been alive, but no. So I don’t believe you. I think they were just interested in what I was saying.”
As she had gone on her little rant, the amusement that had lingered in her companion’s eyes had only increased. He leant back in his seat, enjoying his new arm in the most annoying way possible; using it to prop his head up so it tilted in that smug way that he hadn’t been able to do on his right side for a while.
“Ri’kara.”
“What?”
“I find you to be very attractive. As it happens.”
She scowled at him. Even her palms pressed to her cheeks couldn’t cool off how hot they’d become; she could even feel her shoulders begin to dust with the colour. That smug aura of his only increased as he leant a little closer again, trying to catch her eyes. She deliberately avoided them.
“I wasn’t asking you to say it, you know. That doesn’t count.”
“Hmph. I said it because I wanted to. Have you know me to lie?” He moved again to try and get her to look at him. Again she avoided it. It was beginning to feel like a game, and she had to try not to laugh as she spoke again.
“Yes. Many times.”
“By my count, four. And I promised I would not do that again, did I not?” Another inch closer and he was within kissing distance again. That didn’t help matters at all.
Ri’kara put her whole hand on his face, pushing him away and finally letting out the laughter she had been holding in. “I know. It doesn’t make me believe you about the others, though.”
He laughed in turn, once again sitting back in his seat. “Fine. I will take one victory.”
As he got comfortable again, idly experimenting with the movement of the prosthetics, she watched him. There was that wrinkle between his eyes that appeared more noticeably any time he laughed or frowned, now prominent with his concentrated look. The curve of his scarred neck ran all the way down to the too-wide opening in his robes; he had never bothered to close them properly. It irritated her if only because the way that the lines of his muscles sloped was far too tempting. She held those decorations again and sighed, tearing her eyes away.
“I think you are.”
His head tilted, attention back on her.
“Attractive, I mean.” She inspected her claws, so she didn’t have to look at him.
There was a pause, and she dared to glance sideways at him. His crest had flushed lilac, but he seemed to recover quickly, responding with a nonchalant shrug. “As though I didn’t know that already.”
The little Tal’darim threw her head back against the sofa cushions and made a loud, annoyed groan. “I thought it would be nice to say it out loud! Bastard, how would you know? I’ve never said it before.”
“I am not blind; I have caught you staring. In fact, you were just then.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, scowling again; she thought he’d been too engrossed in his new arm to have noticed. “Well I’ve caught you so there.”
“And yet it never once crossed your mind that I would have found you appealing?” His eyes rolled again as he laughed. “You are a fool.”
“As if you’re one to talk—”
He held up both hands before she could continue. “Alright, I will admit that I was exhibiting a similar bout of poor judgement; behaviour quite unlike me.”
Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “Right.”
After a moment, she softened. “I’m glad they’re good for you; I was terrified you didn’t like them. You didn’t say much.”
“You did insist on immediately being excitable the moment I had crawled out of bed. Of course I barely said a thing.” Reaching over, he placed a hand on her knee. “I am grateful. As much as I dislike being indebted to someone, at least it is you.”
Gently, she placed a hand over his, patting it. “I’m just happy I could help.” She giggled softly, giving him a mischievous smile. “You can make up for it by braiding my cords. It’ll help you get used to the movement.”
Alarak raised a brow. “You are sure?”
“It’s fine. Just remember not to tug.”
He nodded, kneeling himself on the floor and pulling a cushion down with him for her to sit on. “If you are certain.”
“Of course.” She got down and knelt on the cushion, parting the cords that she would usually keep either side of her crest from the rest of them, and looping the middle one on each side so that he could weave the rest of the ends into a braid.
His fingertips brushed against the base of her neck as he gathered up the thick, wiry strands, causing her to suppress a shiver. She felt her face get hot again as he repeated the motion to make sure he’d got all of them, her abdomen squeezing.
“I’m… surprised you know how to braid; you kept your cords loose on Aiur.”
“It was how I fit them into the casing the of my armour.” He shrugged. “That and a tight bandage; it was necessary to wear them loose otherwise. I likely would have cut their circulation had I not been careful.”
“Oh.” She tensed up a little as he began to section her cords into three. “You really weren’t good at taking care of yourself—”
“Hmph. You are one to talk.”
He was surprisingly gentle, pouring a soft, reassuring emotion over her through the contact. She had meant to talk back, but it was so soothing that she was suddenly very aware of how little sleep she’d had, her eyes slipping closed every so often. It was the same when Ilira or Inzar braided her cords; it didn’t take much for her to feel safe enough to start dozing…
Her eyes fluttered open, the ceiling of her bedroom greeting her. The bright sunshine had been muted by her curtains, which were finally over the window where they were supposed to be to stop her from being blinded.
She blinked a little and sat up, her cords heavy with a long braid, tied at the end in a very crudely made bow by a ribbon that looked more like a robe’s sash than anything else.
A piece of parchment on the nightstand caught her attention, scrawled with Alarak’s chicken scratch lettering. Tilting her head, she picked it up.
Ri’kara,
I suspect you kept yourself awake half the night to finish your little project- you fell asleep almost immediately once I had begun braiding. As such, I have put you to bed. I will be back in the evening expecting you to give that sash back- I would prefer to be able to close my robes, if you don’t mind.
Thank you again.
She chuckled softly, playing with the bow’s ends and rolling her eyes. For a moment she thought about letting him roam around the house without it.
“I’ll think about it.”