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dredgenaves · 1 month ago

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Another commission done and dusted c:

Had lots of fun working on this one and was super excited to bring it out. Thank u all for the continued support for everything <3

Oolong

Look! Look! Art by @dredgenaves for my story!!!

It was early and many of the market vendors had not opened up their shops, carts, or stalls yet in the rubble of the last city where everyone routinely gathered for commerce. Eris wondered if the Drifter also preferred the lack of people or if his insistence that they come this early to ‘avoid the crowds’ was entirely for her benefit. Probably for her, she realized. A crowd, for him, would simply be a cloak of invisibility.

She reached out and touched a t-shirt, rubbing the cloth between her fingertips, smiling at the softness of it.

“That one? Really?” the Drifter asked her.

“The material feels nice.”

“You uh… don’t see colours the same way, do ya?”

“No. What colour is it?”

He waited a few moments, watching her fondle it, and then leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Bubblegum pink.”

Eris drew her hand away as though the shirt had bitten her.

He laughed, picked up the shirt, and held it up against her, eyeballing the fit.

Eris gave him a look that could curdle milk…or blood.

“I have limits, Rat, and that is well beyond them.”

He laughed again and turned to the merchant.

“Do you have this, but in black or maybe grey?”

The vendor pointed to a pile of clothing in a barrel on the other side of a table.

Eris heaved an audible sigh of relief.

The Drifter began picking through it. “This might do,” he pulled a couple of pieces into his hand. “We'll want to add in a layer or two.”

“We don't even know if they will fit.”

“Oh these'll fit.” He paid the merchant.

“How do you know?”

He gave her a sideways look with a half smile and licked his lips.

“Hmmm…”

“Oooo…” the Drifter stopped at a spice vendor they were walking past who was just opening up their stall.

Eris found the cacophony of scents overwhelming and wandered past the spices to an area filled with pottery. The elderly pottery vendor looked at her suspiciously. Eris found a selection of chunky looking mugs and began to pick up individual ones to sense their weight and feel how the handles felt against her hands.

“You should get two.” The Drifter’s voice was by her ear.

“I was thinking of it. What colours are these?”

“That one’s green and that one’s blue. Both dark and swirly. They don’t match but they also sorta go together. They look nice.”

“Very well.”

“Smell this.” He shoved a small bag in her face.

She sighed and inhaled. “Oh… that is nice… is it tea?”

“Yup. They said it’s oo-long, whatever the hell that is. Smells fancy.”

Eris smiled. “It is. I like oolong.”

“Well we got some now and if you get mugs we can put it in them and be fancy together.”

Eris took the mugs she’d selected to the nervous pottery vendor and attempted to be non-threatening. He took her glimmer with shaking hands.

“Now, let's find you some boots that don't look like they're for walking on the moon.” Drifter tugged at her elbow.

“Everything about me looks like it's for walking on the moon… Because I spend most of my time walking… on the moon.”

“Yeah well, we ain’t goin’ to the moon which is why we’re getting ya non-moon shit for those rare times when you ain’t on the moon.”

“Hmmm…”

“This place has a bench. Here.” He tossed her a pair of dark brown leather hiking boots. “Try those on.”

“The feet fit,” she said after a few minutes, “...but the calves and ankles are a bit too wide.”

“Really? Let me see.”

He knelt one knee on the ground in front of her and pulled her foot up onto his leg. His hands slid along her calf down next to her ankle. Eris would have sworn his hands were empty, especially since she had felt all his fingers caress her gently, but there was a sudden weight and she felt an object pressed against her ankle. Something several inches long in a leather sheath.

He tightened the boot laces and tied them off with a bow.

“Nah I think that's perfect.”

He pulled her pant leg down to cover the knife.

“Let me see the other one,” he grinned.

“Hmmm…”

She replaced her left foot with her right as he repeated what he had done.

“You just ain't tyin’ it right, Moondust.” He looked up at her with mischievous eyes. “Try that. Walk around a bit. Make sure it feels good.”

He stayed on one knee as she stood and walked from one side of him around to the other. She reached out a hand and brushed her fingertips against the side of his beard. He leaned into her hand like a cat and looked up at her with affection.

“I think you might like being on your knees in front of me,” she said quietly enough so that only he could hear.

He blinked rapidly, looked away from her, and gave a nervous laugh. “Now that’s a dangerous observation for you to make.”

“Hmmm…”

“Boots good, though?” He stood.

“Yes. The additions are… comforting.”

“Ain’t never met a hunter… current… or former… who thought there was such a thing as too many knives.” He winked at her.

The Drifter spent some time talking with the leather worker while he was paying for the boots. They conversed in a language Eris did not understand. The Drifter seemed to be asking for something beyond the boots and the vendor asked a few more questions before they came to an agreement and glimmer exchanged hands.

Eris looked around at the market. More people were arriving now. More vendors were opening up their shops in the rubble. A small child stared at her over a barrel of apples. Eris stared pointedly back. An adult behind the child called it away. A few moments later it returned to stare at her over the apples again. She couldn’t see the face, only dark hair and eyes wide with fascination. No fear. Only inquisitiveness. Eris stared back, one side of her lip quirked up in a small smile.

“You frightening children?” The Drifter teased her, pulled gently at her elbow.

“No. They are not afraid.” Eris turned to follow him. “I appreciate naked curiosity. It is so much more refreshing than fear.”

A lone Eliksni was setting up a stall slightly apart from the others, pulling out bolts of cloth and placing them on a table. The Drifter tugged Eris’ elbow again and walked over to converse with the cloth merchant in fluent Eliksni. Eris followed, impressed.

She was able to understand the essence of what they were saying but her Eliksni was mostly gathered from reading books with Eido and what she’d picked up fighting Fallen on the moon. The alien language flowed from the Drifter’s lips and hands as naturally as the unknown human language had before with the boot vendor. He asked specifically about colours first, and then softness, elasticity, flexibility, absorbency. The merchant’s bottom two hands pulled out a bolt of cloth while the top two gesticulated regarding the craftsmanship of the weaving and the materials used.

“Hey, Moondust, touch this one for me, will ya?”

She reached over and fondled the cloth. It felt soothing, light, yet strong. The texture was instantly pleasing to her. She gave the merchant a small smile.

“Yes,” she said quietly but firmly.

A portion of the cloth was cut and folded. Drifter asked about the price. The merchant pointed to Eris and asked a question she did not follow. The Drifter nodded. The merchant raised all four of its hands in refusal. The Drifter insisted and suggested a price. The merchant shook his head and protested. Drifter put a small bag of glimmer on the table. Nods of respect were exchanged. The Eliksni looked toward Eris, bowed deeply, and spoke much more slowly. “Thank you,” he said in his own language, and then he switched to theirs, “...thank you. Eido told us. It is… great honour… thank you…”

They both gave the merchant a small bow in respect before turning away.

“What has Eido been telling people?” Eris asked him quietly as they walked toward several stalls containing fresh vegetables.

“It seems the scribe of the House of Light may have informed them how one of their allies took the wind outta the sails of not one, but two hive gods, at great personal risk to herself, and lived.”

“Hmmm… The Eliksni material feels delightful. What is it for?”

“Your eyes. What you have now is all rough and scratchy. I seen where it chafes. This is light enough it can go underneath between what you have now and yer skin. Won’t look different at all, but it’ll be soothing on your face. Feel nice. I ain’t telling you to hide or not hide your eyes. That’s a you decision. Nor am I telling you what to wear, on your eyes or otherwise. But… you should get to feel nice… if and when you want to.”

She took his hand and squeezed it.

The sounds of the market were beginning to pick up, voices all around were increasing: negotiations, call-outs, the occasional shouting. Eris found it all very overwhelming. Outside of combat, she was never around this many people at once. Her pulse quickened. The Drifter was a central point of calm for her in the swirling noise, but the noise was increasing. She gripped his hand tighter. He looked over at her, concerned.

“It is loud,” she explained.

He nodded and pulled them into an alley and around a corner, which helped to cut the noise.

“Thank you.”

“I think we got everything we need at this point and the day has now fully started so it’s only going to get louder. Shall we bug outta here and go tell Sherlock Mamma-bear we’re running off so she does not hunt us down and nova bomb our camp out of concern for our wellbein’?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Back alleys and shortcuts will be quieter on our way back.” He took both her hands in his as he started walking backwards, slightly bouncing on his toes. “This is my bag, Moondust. Allow me give ya a quick tour of the sketchy side of town.”

His eyes sparkled in glee as she laughed and followed him down the alley.

This is the first in a series I wrote on Ao3 called Embers and Stars (aka Eris and the Drifter go camping and then there is violence). FYI a few of the later sections have some nsfw happyfunsexytimes but those sections are clearly marked with skip links for anyone who isn't into that but wants to still read the stories.

#destiny 2 #eris morn #the drifter #destiny art #drifteris

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