Balanced on the Edge (Aeran x F!MC)

Happy Valentine's Day, friends!

(Yes, I know I'm early, but I finished this sooner than expected and I thought I might as well stick to my Thursday bonus content schedule).

This week's bonus content is a bit of an experiment. I wasn't intending on doing short stories for Patreon this early, but I had an idea and it wouldn't leave me alone, so here we are.

I'm still figuring out how I want to tackle bonus short story content. I dislike writing in second person outside the framework of interactive fiction and there are far too many variables involved with the MC for me to write a blank slate and not have the MC feel like a vague blob. I think for future short stories that involve the MC, I will use a different MC for each, with different profiles for gender, ancestry and origin.

This short story features a named female MC (elven ancestry, Child of the Streets origin). It is set after Chapter 1 Route A. It is considered non-canon, but it falls within the realm of possibility. I mean, they share a cabin on a ship for over a month. Anything can happen, right? ;)

This version is rated M (Mature) for sexual themes, but does not contain any explicit content and has a fade to black scene. A version of this story that contains the steamy scenes for those who want them is available for Patrons only. 

Other content tags: romance, angst, mutual pining that gets out of control

Word count: 2,863

Once again, Raina wakes from the creaking of the ship.

Sleep, admittedly, has never been one of her strengths. After a childhood of cold nights where an inability to sleep with one eye open could leave you gutted and bleeding out in the streets by sunrise, sleep remains elusive. A few hours here, a few hours there, rarely more than a handful at a time. Though her nights on Nesactium’s streets are little more than a distant memory, they have left their mark.

Her body aches. She presses a hand to her shoulder, fingers slipping below the loose neckline of her tunic to brush against rough skin. The wound has healed nicely, though it has left a gnarled scar. A not-so-gentle reminder that she is not an unstoppable force. Push too hard and she will break.

She’s no stranger to injury—no Wayfarer is. Anyone without magic knows very well that scrapes and bruises are no small matter when you cannot visit a healer, pay for curative magic, and call the matter done. But a Wayfarer’s work is dangerous and injury is a constant threat. It is the first lesson, drilled into the mind of every recruit and apprentice: you are not invincible. You will be hurt. You will be injured, sometimes grievously. And unlike the rest of the world, you will be slow to heal.

Raina sighs and lets her hand drop to her side. She rolls her shoulder, stretching the muscle.

One more for the collection…

“You awake?”

She turns, rolling to the side, pulling the quilt with her. The cabin is dark, the lamps extinguished several hours ago, but it is no hindrance to her elven eyes. She glances across the cabin.

Aeran lies in a hammock strung across the opposite wall, his lanky body too long for him to lie comfortably within it. One foot dangles off the edge, bouncing absentmindedly. Three weeks into their journey and still he refuses to take the bed—not that it’s the better option. A cramped cot squeezed into a tiny alcove, one that barely fits even her small frame. Space is limited on a ship, even one as extravagant as Zenaida’s flagship.

He stares at the low ceiling, arms stretched behind his head, fingers locked behind his neck. She watches him, listening to the familiarity of his quiet breath. There’s something comforting about his proximity, a safe haven she can turn to without question.

The feelings aren’t new. True, he’s watched over her since her injury, refusing to leave her side throughout her recovery, but she’s carried those feelings for far longer. Aeran has always been a presence in her life and, aside from Master Varyn, he is the last reminder of a much simpler time. A safer time. A time when the world wasn’t actively trying to kill her.

“Raina?”

“Yeah,” she replies quietly. She brushes a lock of curly brown hair out of her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. “I’m awake.”

“I had a feeling.”

A smile tugs at the corner of her lip. “Yeah?”

“Well—” His foot bounces. The hammock creaks. “—you weren’t snoring for one—”

Raina reaches across the cabin and playfully jabs his arm with her fist. “I don’t snore.”

“How do you know what you do when you’re asleep?”

“Easy,” she replies, rolling back over. She stretches out her legs and her feet hit the wall. “I don’t sleep. That’s the problem.”

He falls silent. Beyond their cabin window, the sea roars, thunderous waves rocking the ship to and fro. There’s a vastness to being at sea Raina will never truly overcome. The sea makes her feel small. Fragile. Insignificant. There’s a part of her that likes it, and a part of her that is terrified by it.

“I know,” Aeran says after a moment.

“And you don’t either,” she adds.

She glances at him. He meets her eyes for a brief moment, then turns away. His foot stops bouncing. He groans, passing a hand over his eyes.

“It’s not getting any better, is it?” she says.

He sighs. “Raina—”

“No.” She pushes herself up, swinging her legs around the edge of the bed, dragging the quilt along with her. It bunches up around her, tangled around her legs. “We’ve been doing this for four years, Aeran, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Aeran exhales sharply and sits up, planting both feet on the floor. He links his fingers across the back of his neck and looks away, avoiding her gaze. “Yeah,” he murmurs after a moment, “well…” He swallows hard. “The more you want to forget, the more you’re forced remember. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

She squeezes the quilt between her fingers, tugging at stray threads, chewing the inside of her cheek as she considers her next words. “Is it getting worse?”

“I…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. The closer we get to Velantis, to the heart of the Guild, the more I…” He shakes himself and rises to his feet. “Never mind.” He stoops, picking up an unlit lantern, hooking it onto the wall and lighting it. A flickering glow spreads across the cabin.

The lantern isn’t necessary—both can see well without it—but there is something comforting about the light and its warmth. Something to stave off the darkness.

Raina pauses, pulling the quilt tight across her lower body. “You can tell me, Aeran,” she says quietly. “You know that, right?”

He leans back against the wall, folding his arms. “I know,” he replies. “But Rai, there are some things… It’s best not to know.” He smiles faintly. “You’ve got enough to worry about, you don’t need me fucking things up even more.”

She sighs. It’s difficult to keep the frustration out of her voice. For all his casual, playful moods, he has a stubborn streak that’s impossible to avoid. “For once can you worry less about me and more about yourself?” she says tartly.

He ignores her. “How’s the shoulder?”

She shoots him a dark look. “Aeran.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So I am.”

She stands, slipping off the bed. She pads barefoot across the cabin (not that she has far to go in such a small space) and places a hand on his arm. He glances at her, blue eyes meeting hazel, a and a strange look crosses his face. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around her, cradling her gently as he pulls her to him.

Raina’s voice hitches in the back of her throat. She melts into his embrace, fingers clutching at his shirt as she presses her hands into his back with an unexpected fierceness. He pauses, hesitant, and murmurs something too soft for her to make out and holds her. As she rests her head against his chest, she feels the rapid beat of his heart.

She exhales a soft breath. The ship lurches, tossing to and fro on the dark, thunderous sea, but Aeran holds them steady. Waves splash against the cabin window, water misting across the glass.

She recalls the first time she stepped on a ship. It was the day after Cenric found her on the streets. He was taking her to the Spire. She was already overwhelmed by this unexpected shift in her life, from a street rat without a home to the newest recruit of an ancient order of terrifying warriors. Unable to process such a fundamental change, she latched onto the next thing in front of her: the sea.

She didn’t know how to swim. The sea terrified her—all that endless water, a bottomless void that could swallow her whole, hiding mysterious, monstrous creatures in its depths. Scared though she was, the sea filled her with exhilaration. She couldn’t look away. She spent the voyage on the deck, skirting the crew and watching the waves, balancing the fine line between fear and euphoria.

Aeran’s hand rests on the back of her neck, his fingers curled in her hair. She freezes, her grip on his shirt tightening, pulled out of her reverie by that single touch. She’s thrown back to that moment, that stupid moment several weeks ago when she finally woke from her injuries. When he… when they…

Oh, gods.

She closes her eyes. There was something left unfinished that day. Despite these weeks together at sea, they have been dancing around it, neither willing to broach the subject. This thing between them is complicated. It always has been. Given their line of work, relationships are difficult, let alone relationships between two Wayfarers.

She can’t pinpoint when her feelings for him began. She’s known him for the greater part of her life, he was the first true friend she ever had. Apprenticed to the same master, they were inseparable as youths. It became a joke among initiated Wayfarers that they were a pair that came together. You could not deal with Raina without also dealing with Aeran.

If she’s honest with herself, maybe those feelings were always there. But she made the choice long ago to push them down and lock them away, telling herself that no matter how much she trusts him, no matter how much she wants him, there are some things better left unsaid.

“Raina…” Aeran murmurs.

She lifts her head. He gazes at her, his eyes searching hers, an unspoken question lingering between them. His palm brushes her cheek and she can barely stop herself from trembling. Her stomach is twisted into a knot, yet her heart is racing.

Fear and euphoria. She is walking that precarious line again, but this time it’s impossible to keep her balance.

“Raina.”

He says her name again. She breathes, unable to look away, but unable to say anything. It’s not like her to be tongue-tied, but somehow her words are failing her.

“I…”

She swallows the lump in her throat. She wants more than his arm around her waist, his hand pressed to her cheek. It’s not enough. No matter how close he holds her now, she wants him closer still. She wants to feel the warmth of his hands on her skin, his lips on hers, his body against hers…

“We can walk away from this,” he says. “Leave it alone and don’t look back. Nothing has to change—”

“I want it to.”

Aeran freezes.

Raina reaches up, resting her hands on either side of his face. “I want it to,” she says.

He stares at her, eyes wide, one arm still looped around her. His silence nearly stops her heart. Her mind reels, wondering whether she misinterpreted his meaning, whether she said the wrong thing, the wrong words. She’s put a wedge between them—

He kisses her. She gasps in surprise and he pushes her back with surprising intensity, pressing her against the opposite wall. His mouth is hot and fervent and hungry. One hand is tangled in her hair, the other sliding down her body, tugging at her tunic. She loops her arms around his body, hands splayed across his back, and pulls him to her. He grunts, breath caught in his throat, and he deepens the kiss.

When he draws away, he leaves them both flushed and breathless. Eyes closed, he rests his forehead against hers. One hand hovers at her waist. Despite the passion of the kiss, she can feel his hesitation.

She presses her lips to his cheek, slowly kissing up his jawline. He trembles at her touch, exhaling softly.

“Rai…”

His weight presses against her, pushing her against the wall. She can feel the wood panels through her tunic.

“Touch me,” she murmurs against his ear. “Please.”

Aeran draws back, eyes searching hers. He smiles and does not say a word.

He kisses her.

Raina melts into it, into him, her mind blank, her emotions a chaotic jumble, exhilaration taking hold. They move together, a tangle of arms and legs, desperately seeking something unspoken within each other’s touch. There’s something raw and urgent in their haste as clothes are discarded and they fall into bed.

She doesn’t want gentle. She doesn’t want slow. There’s a part of her, buried deep, that is afraid that if they slow down, if they stop, this fleeting moment will be over and they will never find it again. So she kisses him and pulls him to her.

And she lets everything go.

Some time later, Aeran lies nestled beside her on the cot. His eyes are closed, breathless satisfaction on his face. She holds him, his head resting on her chest, and strokes his hair. She watches him, a small smile on her face.

Outside, the sea roars.

Aeran chuckles.

“Something funny?” Raina asks.

He raises his head and kisses her. “Not at all,” he says. He brushes a loose curl from her forehead. “I’m just thinking about you. Really enjoyed the look on your face. It’s a good look.”

She blushes deeply and raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“A very—” He kisses her forehead. “—good—” He kisses the tip of her nose. “—look.” He kisses her mouth.

She leans into the kiss, savouring it. “If it’s something you’re so enthusiastic about,” she says, “I’m sure there’s a way we can make it happen again.”

He smiles. “I’d like that.”

“Me, too.”

His eyes sweep over her, lingering on her shoulder scar. He gently brushes it with his fingertips. “This didn’t… hurt you, did it?”

She’d forgotten about her recent wound. She feels a deep twinge in her shoulder, but ignores it. “Not really,” she says. “I mean, I think this is the first time I haven’tthought about it. I can’t take a boring convalescence any longer, Aeran, it’s driving me mad. If it’s a choice between my shoulder and sex, I’ll take the sex, thank you.”

He buries his face in her neck, howling with laughter. She chortles and winces, covering her face with a hand. When their laughter subsides, he gently nudges her hand aside and meets her eyes.

“You are ridiculous,” he says.

She shrugs. “It’s much better now, I can barely feel it at all,” she says. “What’s one more scar, anyway?”

He pauses, his smile fading. She glances at him, her eyes sweeping over his chest. Just as he knows the history behind the myriad of scars on her body, she knows his—save for one. The one he refuses to talk about. His silence can only mean one thing—that it is a remnant of the battle at the Spire.

She senses the line again. The fear of asking the one question she cannot ask pitted against her need to know. He has never told her what happened. She knows the lives that where lost, she knows the only place she called home has been destroyed, but she doesn’t know how. And he is the only connection she has to it.

Her fingers hesitantly touch his side, brushing the scar. Aeran freezes against her touch, but he doesn’t protest. She traces the scar, wavering on her choice.

“Raina,” he says, throat dry. “Leave it be.”

“You can tell me,” she begins.

He exhales sharply. “I can’t.”

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” she adds.

Aeran sits up abruptly, nearly knocking his head against the alcove ceiling. “I don’t need your help, Raina,” he says. “Not with this. Leave it be.”

She pushes herself up on her elbows, brows drawing together. “I hate seeing you like this,” she says. “I know it was a nightmare. I know I wasn’t there, I can’t understand what it was like. But gods, Aeran, whatever happened, you can’t block it out forever—”

He grunts and gets off the bed. “Sounds like this is more about you than it is about me,” he snaps. He crosses the cabin, picking up his discarded clothes and roughly pulling them on. “Which,” he adds, snorting, “is typical of you, Raina. Nothing can happen without you sticking your nose in business that doesn’t concern you.”

She sits up and pulls up the quilt, wrapping it around her chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs. “Nothing.”

“I’d rather you tell me upfront than dance around the subject by insulting me,” she says darkly. Part of her mind is screaming at her, telling her to let it go, to backtrack. She crossed the line and she’s on the wrong side. But she’s as stubborn as Aeran, and she won’t back down.

“I’m not—” He sighs, exasperated, and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve asked you to leave it be. If you can’t do that…”

She stands, pulling the quilt tight around her. “I don’t know if I can,” she says quietly.

He looks away, an unreadable look crossing his face. “Right,” he says, after a long moment. “I need some air.”

He pushes past her and opens the door.

“Aeran—”

He disappears through the threshold, closing the door behind him.

Raina is left in their cabin, clinging to her stubbornness even as she curses herself. The room is silent, save for the creaking of the ship and the roar of the vast sea.

She has never felt more alone.