#aloyxerend

[savage-rhi]

Uuuh, I'm loving these prompts! AloyxErend / Worriedly inspecting your temperature after noticing your lack of mood and giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead / thank youuuu!

Coming up!

Aloy sighed, watching Erend get up to tend to the fire. He had been running around everywhere since she started feeling off. Aloy wasn't certain what was going on through her head. One moment she would be fine, the next despair would come in waves. Then again it was approaching the anniversary of Rost's death. It didn't matter how much time passed, for the death continued to have an impact.

"Erend, you can stop now." Aloy tried to coax her companion back to rest. They had journeyed a long way from the Nora, and needed to sleep.

"I'm almost finished. Hold your horses." Erend sighed. He was busy scaling off the fish Aloy and himself caught earlier. Furrowing his brows, he glanced towards her. Concern didn't cut how worried he had been. Aloy was normally very spirited, but as of late she had been a shell of her former self. Erend was beginning to wonder if he had done something to piss her off.

After he tended to the fish and cleaned his hands nearby a stream, Erend ventured to Aloy's side. He crouched down beside her. His eyes scanned over her face before he pressed his palm to her forehead.

"What are you doing?" Aloy made a face, taken back.

"Checking your temperature."

"What for?"

"To see if you're sick. You've been moody." Erend sighed.

"Well, what's the prognosis?" Aloy breathed out. She closed her eyes, reminding herself that Erend was just trying to help.

"You just need a little TLC." Erend mused. He gently grabbed Aloy's chin, tilting her head forward and pressed a kiss to her temple. Even the warm glow of the fire couldn't hide Aloy's blush as she turned red from the action.

"That seemed to perk you up some!" Erend laughed, pulling more away as he let go of her.

"As if." Aloy shook her head, trying to wave him off.

"Maybe I could do that more often?" Erend shrugged. There was a long silence that fell between the two as they stared at one another. Eventually, Aloy softly smiled and lied back down on her mat. She turned her back to him.

"I'll think about it."

Erend let out a playful huff. He got up and went over to his sleeping mat, sitting upon it.

"It was sure nice to see you smile again." He murmured quietly, doubting Aloy could hear him. Erend didn't know that Aloy was listening the whole time.

Maybe she could lean on him more until after Rost's death day passed.

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[dark-t1des-hzd]

Ereloy week day 1: Injury

Aloy wakes up in the healers pavilion in Meridian… / my first attempt at an Ereloy prompt 🧡

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38863023

[ratchetaginger]

My bf when I put one of the books in his hand:

"Wait it's just them kissing and cuddling?!"

Me: "yeah that's the point! It's an Ereloy fancomic!"

Thank you soooo much @godliath !!!!!!! I'm in love with everything!!!💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Also my cat enjoyed the packaging

[marmie-noir]

The Trials of Loving a Tenakth - Kotallo x OC Fic - Chapter 1

Hi all!

I finally got the first chapter wrapped up! I’m terrible at adding filler, my ADHD brain does all the dramatic/smutty/funny scenes and leaves them hanging with no connections. 

I tried to edit but tbh was sick of looking at it, so if there are errors I apologize! 

TW: Detailed wound, medical care, flirting, feelings. 

“Erend, you can’t strong arm it. It’s a hologram, light, not something you can punch.” I chided the man, leaning against his side and showing him how to gently touch the little buttons that appeared before me thanks to the focus. I was working on studying anything about the old ones that Aloy had been able to gather as well as general data that Gaia had even without the subordinate function APOLLO. Watching him repeat the motions I pulled back a bit to sit normally next to him on the couch in the main area with a little smile. Yes, this was sometimes frustrating. I was more of a do it versus learn it girl, hands on if you will, but watching someone else struggle made me feel a bit better about my lack of progress. Zo was a literal genius I swear and she seemed to get everything the first try. Erend, Varl, and I all were not so fortunate. 

“I’m the guy you call when it’s time to break stuff.” Erend almost pouted, his mood obviously soured from his rivalry with the small machine on his temple. “But reading? Smoke and steel, I am no good at this ‘Nara.”

“You’ll get it, big guy.” I said, patting his arm before waving my hand and pulling up all the data on another subordinate function. “Just… it takes time.” I was interested in ELEUTHIA, the mother function. Reading up about the plan to reintroduce humans back to the world from a preserved stock of embryos was so interesting, the mere thought of a cradle facility is something out of legend. The idea that my ancestors came from such a location had me wondering who their descendants were, which of the old ones was I made from. 

There was so much information, so much raw data, I often felt like I would never be all caught up. Learning a little of everything seemed the best option to me although a few of the others seemed to want to master every bit of information before moving to the next. Clutching to my knee to my chest I leaned in a bit as if that would make the information absorb better into my poor abused head, my temples already giving the tell-tale tingle of a headache. 

As if all the gods in the sky felt my pain and the now familiar hiss of the automatic door sounded. Varl stepped in, his usually chipper face drawn a bit in stress, glancing over his shoulder. Behind him walked one of the largest men I had ever seen in my entire life. The Tenakth was well decorated, his skin covered in both tattoos and paint, his features strong but his expression one of careful watchfulness. He had a woven top that exposed his well built middle, the muscles there showing a strength made through years of training versus the exercising I had seen some of the male workers do for defined muscles. He had only one arm, the other one cut near the top of the bicep, wrapped in a blue cloth of some kind. I didn’t linger there, too distracted by the rest of him. Bright dots of color stood out amongst his chest and down the wrap he wore over what appeared to be a short pair of shorts, each movement flashing a bit of thigh equally tattooed as the rest of him. Sliding my gaze up I found he had surprisingly pretty dark eyes and they were looking right back at me. They were a stunning mix of hazel and something darker that reminded me of a specific tree bark I had no name for. 

Blinking in surprise I raised my eyebrows but kept my thoughts to myself, not shy about being caught looking at the new man at the base. His pale gaze lingered where I sat on the couch for a moment, my spine straightening as he glanced me up and down before turning his attention to Erend, and then Zo in the far corner. 

The Utaru woman walked over with a soft smile, moving to stand next to Varl before greeting our new Tenakth friend. “Welcome to the base.” She was always sweet and kind, an admirable trait for someone with so much strength. I admired the Utaru for multiple reasons even though their lifestyle was not exactly for me. “I’m Zo, I assume you are Kotallo.” Sliding off the couch slowly, Varl and Zo both seemed distracted by the Tenakth standing tall before them to be concerned with me. With light steps I walked around Varl, removing the small satchel with the spare focus�� from Aloy from his belt with practiced precision and moved it behind my back, walking around Zo and standing next to her to face Kotallo with an innocent smile. 

Kotallo’s eyes narrowed slightly at me and I wondered if he’d seen my move. It was quick, I hadn’t even missed a beat in my step, but he seemed to be looking closer than the average person did. He didn’t say anything about it, though he was suspicious, instead focusing back on Zo and nodding at her question. “I understand that you all are helping Aloy with the current enemy.” Looking once more he gestured to his temple, obviously seeing we all had that little triangle of white metal in place. “She mentioned something about that tiny machine, a focus?”

Varl reached back and found the space empty, the small leather pouch held behind my back as I glanced over with a little smile. His panic was not long lived as I held up the little bag, tossing it and catching it a few times until he noticed. His panic turned to annoyance and he swiped at it, having me take a step back with a little laugh. I plucked one from inside and tossed the rest back at him.  

“I’ll take it over from here.” Gesturing Kotallo to follow me he paused a moment, looking at Varl a moment before following behind me. 

The heat of him let me know he stayed close as we went into a side room, the door sliding closed behind us and the lights turning on to dimly light up the room. I spun but he was closer than I thought, my chin nearly brushing against his chest. I took a step back, tipping my head back to look up at him. I held my hand out flat, the focus on my palm looking harmless as I offered it. 

“When it touches your skin you will see lights and hear some sounds but that is normal.” I didn’t know how he would react and I wanted him alone in a side room away from the others in case he lashed out. This Tenakth didn’t seem the type but I wasn’t risking Varl, Erend, or Zo. He took it, large fingers lifting it delicately. He was warm, the heat of the brief touch lingering on my skin and I watched as he put it next to his right ear. It snapped into place like they always did, sticking to his skin immediately. 

I had to hand it to him, he took it well. His breath caught slightly but that was the only tell he had, eyes shifting back and forth, no doubt taking in all the Focus’ primary introduction information. I stayed silent, letting him take it all in, ready to move at any moment. 

“What is this?” His voice was gruff, deep, and he glanced down at me. I liked the way he sounded, deep and masculine, but with somehow a slightly gentle edge. He didn’t give the impression of a man who raised his voice at others, at least without reason. I appeared to have been caught staring because he raised his brows. “Anara?”

“Yep, that would be me.” I said, hand on my hip. 

“You are of the Vari tribe?”

“Mhmm, focus tell you that?” He simply nodded before looking around, no doubt taking it all in. The focus highlighted random bits of the room and while I was also a relatively new user myself it had become almost like background noise. I no longer looked everywhere at once when I entered a new room trying to understand every bit of neon color overlapping each room. “Wait until you see what they do to machines.”

“What do they do?” I liked when he looked at me, it sent a zing of awareness down to the tips of my toes. Was I attracted to the Tenakth? He was a large man, my type honestly, but I’d never been so aware of someone after a few moments of meeting them. Perhaps I was just more aware because of the absolutely predator vibes he gave off. Even following me in here he didn’t make a noise, and I was willing to bet a whole lot of shards he was faster than he looked. Normally larger fighters went for strength, like Erend, but not Kotallo. He looked strong and fast, a dangerous combo. I was thankful that he was on our side. Plus, if Aloy trusted him, I would too. She had a pretty good people radar. 

“They show you a machine’s weakness. Highlighting where to hit to do maximum damage.” 

“Truly?” His brows rose.

“Truly. Now, if you tap it here,” I tapped mine, a display popping up. “It opens the main display. You can use this to navigate through the menu, options, and all the information that Aloy has been able to gather.” I gave him a rundown of the basics like I had helped Erend with earlier, helping him set up a few different settings before stepping back with a smile. “If you need help just let me know. I’m still pretty new myself but I’ve figured quite a bit out alone.” 

He nodded but didn’t say anything for a few moments, lost scrolling through everything now literally at his fingertips. “What is this room?” 

“Hm? Oh, I believe it’s a leftover room. Gaia?” Glancing around I looked at the raised table in the middle with some sort of screen on top. “What is this room?”

“This was made to observe terraforming efforts from inside the base. I am working to restructure it to something useful with our current mission.” Her voice came through both mine and Kotallo’s focus and he looked around before touching the machine again. 

“It can be used to communicate?”

“Yes. It’s very useful. Oh, also, you’ll need to meet Gaia soon.” Giving him a little shrug I pulled up a map of the base. Pushing it towards him it popped up from his focus a moment later and mimed everything I did. “This is the room we are in. The main room you walked into. Here is the kitchen, the personal facilities, Varl and Zo’s room, Aloy’s room, my room, and Erend stays in the barrak style room.” They briefly highlighted on both maps as I poked them, showing him exactly where everything was. “You can stay there or we can make this your room, whatever you’d prefer.” 

“I do not need much space. I would like to establish some sort of war room for planning. Aloy advised the enemy is more advanced than we could imagine.” 

“Gaia?” I asked, wondering if she could accommodate this request. 

“That should not be a problem. I will work on rebooting the holograph table for up to date scans of the land.” The machine table whirled to life at her words and began to load, a few other lights coming up in the area to show strange unknown devices on the walls. “It will take some time for the updates to be set up and the data configured. Please check back in a few hours.” 

“While she does this,” I said, swiping away the data once more and sending him a smile. “Let me show you where you will be staying.”

It had been an eventful day since Kotallo had arrived that morning, his introduction to everyone and Gaia, as well as setting up a little base in the ‘war room’ taking up most of the time. A few more days passed in relative ease, some of our makeshift tribe filtering in and out to help Aloy or go run their own personal errands. Erend came back mid day, covered in dust but with a wide smile talking up a place called “Vegas” with an enthusiasm that was purely Erend. 

Everyone seemed to be settling in a bit for the night. Well, everyone besides Erend. “Tenakth drink blood, Anara!” He hissed to me the first night he was back at the base with Kotallo. “It’s common knowledge, how do you not know?” His panic had me smiling and I looked away to hide it. 

“So now is not a good time to advise you two are staying in the same quarters?”

“What?!”

I couldn’t stop my laughter and it rolled from me, bouncing off the sides of the large round room we were seated in. “What is so funny?” Varl asked, obviously drawn out by the loud Oseram and my laughter, walking over from his room with a smile. 

“Nothing!” Erend said, crossing his arms across his chest. He was pouting. The visual had me laughing once more, hand pressing to my side as I tried to stop from cackling at his misfortune. 

He continued to throw me dirty looks and I patted his arm, moving to stand. “I’d take him in my room if he wanted.” I teased, watching Erend’s face morph to shock when I winked. Honestly I enjoyed Kotallo’s silent presence and wouldn’t turn him down as a bed partner, having spent a majority of the past few days by his side. We silently worked side by side, his presence for some reason comforting in a way I didn’t fully understand. Plus, a girl gets lonely. Varl had Zo, Erend was madly in love with Aloy even the blind could see it, and I was in my big bed all alone. 

“ANARA!”

I couldn’t stop laughing at him, walking towards the kitchen Zo had set up and was currently cooking in. Before I could get far the man of the hour stepped out. The last few days had made me really like Kotallo. He didn’t speak unless he had something valuable to say, his stern nature endearing and really fun to tease. I loved to send him a flirt to watch the confusion flash across his face, sometimes completely misunderstanding my innuendos. Varl thought it was humorous but that was probably because he was courting Zo and she often left him speechless as well. Erend was always shocked how easily I teased the Tenakth Marshal, even more when he simply brushed me off or continued talking as if I never had. He seemed to at least tolerate me which is more than I expected from the Marshal of a supposedly blood thirsty tribe.

“Anara.” The man of the hour approached, seeking me out once more. My name from his lips did funny things to my tummy that I had no interest in dissecting further at this time. 

I turned and smiled up at him, my face still warm from my laughter. “Hello Kotallo. Need something?” 

He looked at me, intense gaze no less unnerving now, taking in my rosy cheeks and genuine smile. Whatever he found there seemed to satisfy him. “I need your assistance, if you are free?” 

I nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way. He was silent as ever, walking through the dimly lit hallways of the base, away from the group of people in the main room. Stopping before the bathing area he paused and glanced down at me before the automatic door hissed open and he stepped inside. I followed still, curious on what he needed help with here. There were a few deep baths that I personally enjoyed soaking in, and a heated waterfall that Gaia said was called a ‘shower’ which apparently was the main bathing method of the old ones. I had to admit it was a glorious invention. 

The room was small, the lighting bright, and I squinted a bit looking around. “What did you need help with?” 

“This.” He gestured to the shower, his lips pressed to a thin line.

I glanced at the shower, using it as an excuse to look away and hide my smile. I would never make him feel foolish, Kotallo explained a bit about Tenakth society to me as well as a few things he had learned on the focus. He never made me feel stupid or little. Surprisingly, he was a good teacher so the least I could do is return the favor, his calm steady voice often helping me understand focus data or breaking down an attack strategy he was playing with on the holo-table Gaia had booted up. 

Waving a hand in front of the shower display I showed him a few buttons as well as ran him through how to change the temperature as well as the shower head setting. “This is like a massage, this is like a rain, there are a lot to choose from.” Looking over my shoulder at him his expression was intense as he took in everything I showed him. I wondered how many people saw this side of him, and how many would find it as adorable as I did. “Make sense?”

He nodded, stepping back and letting me slide past him. The desire to offer to scrub his back pecked at my brain and I turned to throw the flirt at him when I caught sight of what remained of his left arm for the first time. He normally kept it wrapped up in the blue cloth, now tossed on the counter, his hand already working on removing the top he wore that was covered in beading and armor. The skin around the wound looked angry and I realized that the exposed flesh was burned closed. Cauterized, and not kindly either. It looked angry, painful. 

“By the Stars Kotallo.” I said, moving back to his side and putting a hand on his right arm to stop him from stripping further, leaning in slightly to look at his wound. I was no doctor but I knew basic first aid and when something looked irritated or even potentially infected. “I had no idea your wound was so fresh, you move as though you’d been born without your left arm.” 

“I lost it a few weeks ago.” He said, moving to turn from me, to shield me from it. I reached up instead to grab the front of his armor, stopping him from turning further as I continued to look. I was not shy around wounds, blood and gore did not phase me. I had grown up Vari until I was nearly 10 winters, sold into slavery for Star’s sake, this wasn’t going to make me shrink back from him. 

“It doesn’t look well.”

“Washing it will help.”

“As will treating it.” I said, pulling back to look up at him. That careful mask was back in place, always so careful as always to hide emotions. Even though I had spent little time with him I had noticed in a few days he normally shielded his emotions and reactions from others. At times I saw hints of amusement, of amazement, or even mild annoyance, but nothing stronger than that. Men had that annoying habit of not discussing feelings but the Tenakth seemed a whole other breed, not even acknowledging actual physical pain. “Does it hurt?” The question felt almost childish leaving me but I couldn’t take it back, concern bubbling in my chest. 

He waited a few moments, contemplating if he should answer, before he shrugged. “At times. Sometimes it feels as though I still have my arm, and it pains me. Like there are blades being driven through a hand that is not there. Most of the time there is just a dull ache as it heals.”

Nodding I recalled a few of the Brothel’s patrons who had come back from the red raids maimed. A man with his leg missing from the knee down often complained that it felt like he was stepping on pins and needles. Compassion had me frowning at him, wanting to soothe his pain. “Well… you bathe. Find me after, I have some medicine I can apply to at least numb the pain and treat it just in case infection is trying to set it.”

“That is not necessary.”

“I’m not asking.” My tone was hard, leaving no room for argument. The staring match was intense and he held my gaze for a few moments before looking away. 

Giving me a nod instead of speaking as usual, but regardless I was still satisfied with my small victory. 

I released his armor and took a step back, not realizing how in his space I had gotten. At least I had the chance to treat that wound, I did not like how it looked. Leaving him to bathe I grabbed my staff and a small basket, calling to Zo as I trotted out of the base to search for some medicinal herbs. It was getting late, the sun beginning to set, but there should be enough time to grab a few things. Being native to the area Zo made quick work on pointing out what I should use. We talked a bit but I was more focused on my worry and tried to hurry to make sure Kotallo didn’t try to avoid having something applied to help with the healing process. 

“There should be focus data on how Kotallo lost his limb.” Zo interrupted my thoughts as we made our way back to the base.   

“What?”

“Aloy was there, was she not? There may be a data file of what happened.” She shrugged, her small pack filled with herbs nearly spilling with the movement. Catching it with a grace that was all Utaru she kept going up the fairly hidden path to the entrance of the base. 

I hadn’t even thought of that. I bet Gaia knew exactly which one too. Filing that away mentally I thanked her for her help before moving to the room I had taken as my own. I lit a few candles, not liking the bright automated lights, and got to work on processing a few berries into a paste. I added a bit of water, a few roots from the East I had brought along that I knew had a numbing property, and began working the small grinding wheel with a bit of pressure to mash everything together. 

The door hissed and Kotallo stepped in, his form taking up the doorway before he moved over to where I sat on the floor working away at the mixture. I gestured for him to sit on the bed and he did, sinking down on the edge to perch and watch me as I continued to move the wheel back and forth. I worked a few moments longer in the silence, wanting the right mixture of the herbs and berries as well as the right consistency so it stuck. If it was too watery it wouldn’t work, if it was too thick it would be painful to spread across the freshly burned skin. 

“Okay,” I said, standing and shaking out my slightly achy legs from sitting in such an odd position. “this might sting a moment but after will go numb.” I scooped the remedy into a small jar I’d set aside for the very purpose, walking to sit down on my bed on his left hand side. “Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” He simply nodded, glancing around the room as I applied the paste as gently as possible. He didn’t even flinch although I knew it had to burn from experience. His shoulders did relax a bit once the numbing feeling kicked in after a few seconds and I stood up, wiping my hands on a cloth while inspecting the wound. After the shower it did look a bit better but still had a bit of pink around the edges that I didn’t like. On a wound this large infection was sure to be a problem and the idea of him catching fever and getting sick did not sit well with me. 

I walked over to the trunks against one wall, one already opened and lengths of cloth spilling out in a messy fashion. I had many outfits, my crates shipped here from Meridian due to this whole adventure starting out as a trip for my mistress. She always overpacked for me, ‘Just in case.’ I could almost hear her say, like always. Picking up a layered dress that I personally didn’t care for with a nice thick natural fabric I tore it down the middle, having Kotallo look at me with a raised brow. 

“You didn’t need to ruin your dress.”

“I don’t even like it.” I said, waving away his concern and moving to wrap it around his wound. “Plus, I have enough clothing. My mistress always has me pack heavy, regardless of the occasion.” The cloth strip was clean and thick enough to protect the wound from dirt while also letting it breathe. “I have a bit of the paste left, so I can keep applying it until any risk of infection is gone.” Putting a cork in the jar I sat it down on the floor next to the low bed, moving back to wipe my hands once more. The herbal smell wasn’t unpleasant but it was slightly greasy on my fingertips.

“You do not need to.”

“I don’t need to do anything.” I responded immediately, knowing he would try to dismiss my help. “I do things because I want to. Now store that Tenakth stubbornness for when we will need it.” Smiling at him I glanced up and noticed for the first time he wasn’t covered in the war paint, his hair down and slightly damp. Those sharp cheekbones and full lips were distracting, especially up close and not covered in that pale paint he was normally bathed in. “Oh, um,” Swallowing I felt a blush rising to my face and bit my lower lip for a moment. “Do you… need help? With reapplying your paint? Or your hair?” His brows drew down and he went to decline and I cut him off. “Not out of pity or anything, I was wanting more Tenakth history. I’d like to learn a bit more about the Marshal in our midst. I’ll take some Kotallo history in exchange for helping to paint your back?”

That had him confused. “Why?”

“Don’t you want to learn about me-uh, us?” Smooth. That came out normal, right? We basically all lived together, a mini-tribe, it was natural to want to know about the people you were around all day. 

He pondered over it a bit before nodding and I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I had been holding. “The paints are in my corner. Come.” He stood, glancing down at my handiwork for a moment before leading the way from my room. He and Erend stayed down the hall, the room truly set up like a barracks with four beds and storage areas. I personally wouldn’t stay here, Erend snored like a rock slide, but Kotallo had turned down the offer of his own room when I brought it up. Said as a Marshal he had worse sleeping accommodations in the past.  

He grabbed two little pots, handing them to me, and grabbing a water skin hanging from the wall. Glancing up he gestured I sit on the bed, which I did, and he sat before me to give me his back. Tearing my eyes away from his well built back I took the lid off one of the jars to reveal a pale clay like mixture. The paint was like none I’d seen before, fairly dry, but he took one little pot and added a bit of water from the skin he’d grabbed. Using a brush he swirled the water in, mixing it, and the clay mixture turned into a thick paint in a few moments. He repeated the same mixing technique with the other jar before handing them both back to me. They had a slightly herbal scent, not unpleasant, but more bitter than the medicine I had made. 

Raising the rather large brush I paused a moment, wondering if it would be cold, before just going for it. He was silent as I slowly moved the white paint across his skin, the brush soft and the paint slightly cool against his warm skin causing lines of goosebumps to form after each stroke. Watching every swipe cover more and more of him had me wanting to touch him even more, feel that warm skin against my palms, my fingers digging into the muscle to pull him closer. 

“So,” I started, working slowly to make sure the paint wasn’t patchy in it’s coverage. “You're from the Skyclan?” He glanced over his shoulder, a little surprise showing, before I gestured to the focus on my temple. Kotallo nodded, turning to face forward again. “Tell me about it?”

“What do you wish to know?”

“Anything you wish to share.” Sliding the wet brush down his spine I had to dip it once more into the paint before going over my line again. “I know very little about the West.” 

He was silent a bit longer, thinking over what to say I think. “It is…cold. Far North.” I hummed in response, not wanting to take any attention away. “I was born in the Bulwark, the capital of the Sky Clan lands. It is a massive wall of stone, you need a lift to even get up.” 

“It sounds impressive.”

“It is.” He rolled his shoulders slightly causing my line to go a little crooked. I worked on fixing it as he continued. “It has stood tall among many attacks, protecting my people from both Tenakth and Rebels since the birth of our clan.” 

“You sound like you miss it a bit… why did you leave?” Realizing I may be pushing too hard I leaned in slightly, swiping the brush across his left shoulder. “You don’t have to answer, I’m just curious.”

“I do not mind.” He was quick to put my anxiety to rest. “My parents were killed in a raid, my squad took over the duty of raising me. I was strong. Happy to serve. My commander Tekotteh was proud of me for a time, until he began to fear that I planned to take his position.”

“You cared for him.” His tone gave that away, Tekotteh was at one point an important person to the Tenakth before me. Going over a few spots that were patchier than I liked, I continued. “What had him change? Was it always tense?”

“No.” He was quiet now, as if deep in thought. “No, I am loyal to my clan. Loyal to my commander. I never wanted to rise above my position to commander.” Shaking his head slightly he flexed his back as if tense from the memory. “He sent me to the Kulrut- a challenge to become a Marshal and serve Hekarroh directly- knowing I would either die, or survive and not be able to return.” 

Words died in my mouth at that confession, compassion making my heart hurt for him. That was a betrayal that one did not easily shake, a hurt that did not heal without great effort. “Kotallo…”

“It was exile, disguised as an honor. He was not the man I had come to respect.”

I felt bad for bringing it up but was grateful he told me. Leaning back slightly to make sure that there were not empty spaces I sat the pot down. “I heard Aloy helped destroy part of the Bulwark with you.”

“Yes. It was glorious.” Seeing the small smile touch his face had me smiling as well, pleased to see he wasn’t bothered by that turn of events. Watching the paint dry it didn’t crack, obviously a well tested recipe, and I wondered briefly what it was made of. 

This felt intimate, personal, I realized suddenly, and I didn’t want to break the mood of the small dark space and the spice of his skin with the herbal mix of paint on top. It had been some time since I’d taken anyone to my bed, having traveled to the Forbidden West unaccompanied. Was this the reason I was reacting so strongly to just painting someone’s back? The way his muscles moved under his skin with an alluring grace was distracting, my brain turning to static at times from him simply moving or turning a certain way. 

Deciding to not dwell on it I handed him the pot of white paint. His fingers brushed mine a moment, lingering, and I pulled back with a little frown. Was I not the only one impacted? Did he also feel this pull between us, was that the reason he was so open? I decided not to ask, thankful for the quiet moment we had alone. As usual they always seemed too brief, his back covered in paint, my job done. Just as I went to speak Erend walked in. 

The Oseram froze, looking at my sitting on Kotallo’s bed, the warrior in front of me shirtless, and his eyes widened a bit. “Oh-um, I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“Erend, it’s all right.” I couldn’t help the laugh at the awkward man, his cheeks dusted with an adorable blush. “I was just helping Kotallo paint his back.” Looking at the man in question I tilted my head slightly. “Need anything else before I retire to my room?”

He shook his head, glancing up at me a moment before focusing back on painting his chest and stomach. I stood up, walking past Erend with a little smile at my friend’s awkward nature before heading back to my own bed. The base had certainly become more interesting.

[xtolovers]

The Anvil

Pairing: Aloy x Erend Rating: M ( albeit in later chapters) Warnings: Graphic Mentions of Violence, slight mentions of alcoholism AO3

Chapter 5: First Watch

He stumbles his way down to the shoreline and hopes that Aloy can ’t see his fumbling movements. Prays she is only joking. As he reaches the water he forces his hands to unfasten the straps and clasps of his armor and his head to stop thinking. When he finally sinks beneath the cool surface, he imagines steam rising from his face the same way steel evaporates every liquid it is tempered with. Erend takes a few swift strokes beneath the surface before he comes up again, kneeling in the water and just letting the river run past him. The current is just slow enough to not carry him with it as long as he leans against it.

As he fails not to think about Aloy ’s retort, he wonders if he would also feel so out of his depth here if this had happened before Ersa left for Red Ridge Pass, back when she was there to be his backbone. People mistook him for the warrior and Ersa for the diplomat, but for all her social cunning, Ersa was also made of steel, and while he did not look it, ore was not the only thing he could smith— words had always come easy to him, too. Sure, his position as envoy to the Nora was in part given to him because he was Ersa’s brother— but Erend knew and had proved that he was skilled around people. Back when they had taken Meridian back, Ersa had not been the only one to deliver rousing speeches.

No, he might be an oaf most of times, but Erend trusts himself with words, speeches, diplomacy. He trusts himself with people. He certainly used to trust himself with women. While he hasn ’t been the womanizer some of the Vanguard are — he is aware of the reputation he has to uphold, in general, even if he fails that occasionally — he has also not been without his conquests.

So why the fuck am I so out of my depth all of a sudden?

Ersa was likely not dead, but clearly this had all shaken him up more than he thought. In all this effort to figure out how to be Ersa, he had apparently also forgotten how to be Erend. But he knows that mostly, it just comes down to Aloy being Aloy. There is something so bright about her, it’s like looking into the sun, and something so fierce about her, that it feels like a Stormbird using that sun to it’s advantage for an attack. He certainly feels spark-struck when she is around, try as he might, he can’t deny it. He really should know better. There is something so entirely her own about her, and Erend thinks it must have to do with her not growing up in any clan. Sure, for the most part, she was Nora, but not in the literal sense. He’d seen his fair share of Nora, and Aloy was far from them. Her experiences with other people and tribes were limited, and so nothing has influenced her to be anything other than unapologetically herself, and Erend likes that about her. Maybe too much.

Although, he remembers their first conversation, and he ’d made a mess of that too, way before Ersa was taken. So this was all him, incapable of not making a fool of himself around her. But she’s still talking to him, so maybe he hadn’t messed up too bad.

His cheeks sufficiently cooled, he goes about washing himself, quickly, efficiently, and definitely not thinking about Aloy ’s words. Minutes later, when he’s heading up to the camp again, he briefly considers asking her if she liked what she saw, but ultimately decides against the teasing. He tells himself it’s because he wants to make her comfortable, and not because he is terrified of the answer. As he comes over the ridge, Aloy looks up at him, and gives him the faintest smile. “Feeling better?” “Like a fresh-born babe, just passed over the forge,” he says and stretches theatrically before joining her at the fire. “Passed over the forge?”, she asks, looking up from the arrows she is fletching. Erend nods and puts the kettle back on the fire. “When an Oseram child is born, a day or two later, the whole family — or sometimes clan, depending on the size— gathers around the family’s forge, stokes the fires high, and the parents stand on each side of it. Then the mother passes the babe through the flames, over the anvil, into the fathers arms. It’s a symbolic way of bringing it into the world, a rite of passing through fire, the first step to the destiny that child will forge. It’s supposed to be good luck, for the child, and the forge. Fire, steel and grit for the babe, and fresh life and a strong future for the forge. That is also the day the child gets its name, and the parents will forge something together, and engrave it with the name they’ve chosen. That way, the name and the life of the child is set solid in steel.” He looks up at her then, and she’s staring at him, equally fascinated and wistful. Erend knows she is always curious, but he wonders if he’s made her sad, and well, he can’t have that. “And then, everyone gets drunk,” he grins at her, and the spell is broken, and there’s the eye roll he’s come to know. “Everyone? Even the child?”, she asks with a grin. “Ah,” he mumbles and scratches the back of his head, “ just a sip, really.” Aloy snorts. “ Let me guess: A blessing to guarantee a strong stomach and a cup that’s never empty?” “Now, you try to tell me again you’re no Oseram!” She’s laughing with him, and giddy, he teases, “Although, you’re too skinny for that.” Her laughter stops, replaced by a frown, and he hurries to lift up his hands in apology. “I was only teasing! There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look. I mean— ,” he stops himself before he can make it worse. Berating himself, he brushes his hand through his mohawk. Aloy is silent for a moment, then asks, in a low voice: “What happens if the mother can’t be there?” “Hm, the grandmother or aunt, or any other female relative will do it. If nobody’s there, usually one of the elders will step in. It’s more about the gesture than the parents, although everyone wishes for the mother to be there, of course.” She takes that in silently, nodding to herself. When she doesn’t answer, he asks : “What about the Nora? Any naming traditions or something of the sort? I bet there’s half a dozen, with the fascination with motherhood and all that.” Aloy looks up at him, shaken out of her reverie. “ Uh… The parents take the child up through the valleys and mountains on a ledge high up on a cliff opposite Mother’s Heart, the last night of their fifth month. There is a small temple there, and one or all of the Matriachs will wait for them there. Then, they wait for sunrise. When the first light of the first day of their sixth month rises above the All-Mother and touches them, the parents proclaim the name, and if the name is called back by the mountains, the child is blessed by All-Mother.” “What if the name is not called back?”, he asks, and Aloy makes a face that answers his question. “They get shunned?! Because they didn’t yell loud enough?! ” He really tries to be respectful, but the sheer stupidity makes him angry. “Oh no, not them. Just the child,” Aloy says, and there is a

fierce rage in her eyes, that quickly dwindles to embers as she shakes her head and stares into the fire. “Of course, the parents can decide to be shunned alongside, if they want to.” “Fire and spit,” he curses. The Nora had irked him when he was there, but it was mostly because their world made no sense. Now, they make him angry. Aloy is cleaning feathers, the knuckles white from the hard grip on her knife. He shouldn’t ask. Erend knows he shouldn’t. But the night has grown quiet around them, and this might be the only time he’ll ever learn more about her. So he tries, gently. “So… Is that what happened? The All-Mother did not call your name back? You- you don’t have to tell me, if I’m being too forward here, just tell me to shove off.” Aloy looks at him then, for a long moment, head tilted to the side, and he forces himself to meet her eyes, now golden next to the fire, to show her there is no malice in his question. After what feels like ages, she comes to a decision, and shakes her head. “No, it’s alright. You can ask,” she sighs, but it sounds more wistful than defeated. “I’m only curious, you really don’t need to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” Aloy gives him the smallest smile and shakes her head. “ It’s not that, it’s just… until recently, everybody I ’ve ever met knew why I was cast out. It’s strange to have to talk about it. And I guess it was nice being known for something else.” She shrugs, eyes turning back to the flames. “Hey,” he says to get her attention, draw her eyes away from the fire and to his, because he needs her to know that he is serious, for once. “ If you don’t want to tell me, that is okay. I was just curious. It’s up to you. But I promise, whatever you tell me… Well, I’ve already told you what I think about the Nora and their shunning practices. You’re not an outcast to me. I promise, you’ll… just be Aloy. And if you never want to talk about any of it, that’s fine, too. Just tell me to, and I’ll never ask again.” Aloy studies him for a moment, a frown on her face, and Erend thinks he’s done it again, talked himself into a dead end. But then she smiles and nods, and starts talking. “No, I was not shunned because my name was not called back. Rost did that for me, and the name was accepted. I was shunned because I am motherless . ” There is no way to miss the bitterness on the last word. His stomach drops, and he wants to say he’s sorry, but Aloy shakes her head. “No, not what you think. My mother did not die in childbirth— at least I don’t think so. I … In the caverns of All-Mother Mountain, there is a metal door. That is where I was found, as a baby. In a place that his forbidden for anyone but the Matriarchs. There was no one to claim me. And having no mother is the greatest crime a Nora can commit.” The bitterness is back, and she’s staring into the flames. “Lansra was convinced I was the child of the Metal Devil, and wanted me killed, but Teersa convinced Jezza I was a blessing by All-Mother. They could not agree, so they came to a compromise: I would be allowed to live, but not among the tribe. They gave me to Rost, and he raised me, but he was sworn to never tell me what he knew of my birth, and oath he kept. All I ever knew was that my crime was having no mother.”The rage Erend feels at that is a sweltering forge-fire between his chest and his stomach, and he ’s glad he’s not going to be returning to the Nora lands any time soon.So Rost was not her father, Erend thinks, and faintly remembers her words at the gates: The man who raised me. Erend is no religious man, but he sends out a prayer of gratitude for the man who had taken her in, glad she had not been completely alone. “That’s horrible,” he says, laying all the empathy he feels for her into his voice, and she gives him a weak smile. Then he shakes his head fiercely. “ I’m glad Teersa talked sense into the others. She seemed the most reasonable, for a Nora. Sorry,” he adds, shooting

her a sheepish look, but Aloy just barks a hard laugh. “Don’t be. You’re right.” “Lansra was the one with the gigantic headdress?” Aloy nods, and Erend gives a theatrical shudder. “ Colder than an anvil on a ruined forge, that one. Wouldn’t even talk to me or the other blasphemous outlanders. Now that I know that story, I’m glad about that. It probably wouldn’t have done any good for Nora-Carja relations if I’d’ve given her a piece of mind about her customs. Avad might’ve had to fire me.” “I’m sure you could’ve talked yourself out of it. You handled the Nora pretty well,” Aloy says with a smile, and his face grows hot again. “Ah, that was just luck,” he says, and before she can answer, before she can remember how he’d made a fool out of himself in front of her right after that incident, he asks: “ So you ran in the Proving to be accepted into the tribe again? Teersa mentioned some of the rules when she was explaining the whole thing to us.” Aloy looks down at her arrows then, fingers idly playing with the fletching. “No. … Maybe. Mostly I did it because the winner gets one wish from the matriarchs.” She falls silent then, but Erend knows her enough by now to confidently piece together what she wanted. “And you wanted to know who your mother was.” She shoots him a glance. “ I wanted answers, yes. Why I was shunned, who my mother was… I wanted them to look at me and justify it. Maybe I wanted to be part of the tribe too, if only to see… But I don’t think it would’ve lasted. I would not have been allowed to talk to Rost, so I was set on breaking the rules the moment I set foot in Mother’s Heart. I doubt I would’ve stayed part of the tribe for long.” “That does sound like you,” he says with a smile he can’t help,” and I don’t think anybody could blame you. I wouldn’t want to be part of the tribe either, after all they’ve done to you.” A small glance at her tells him she’s lost in thought, but relaxed, so he probes, gently: “ But then the Proving was attacked. So now you’re looking for answers elsewhere?” Aloy smiles, but it’s a sad smile. “No, I won. Before the Eclipse attacked, I won. And then… well, I woke up wounded inside All-Mother Mountain, and Teersa showed me where she found me. Told me that I was motherless. And then…, “ she hesitates, and Erend waits patiently, “then they made me a seeker, to go find answers, find the killers. And I left.” There’s something she doesn’t tell him, Erend knows, but he won’t press her. He’s glad that she has shared this much with him. She’s already told him that Rost died to save her, and it’s clear it was during the attack, and he won’t make her remember that. “Well, if anyone can find them, and your answers, it is you,” Erend says, full of confidence. There are still a thousand questions he has for her, but he doesn’t want them if she does not offer. So Erend swallows them, hoping that he’s shown her that if she wants, she can tell him anything, and let’s it go, saying only: “ Thank you for telling me.” Aloy doesn’t meet his eyes, focusing on her arrows for a moment. “Thank you for listening,” she says in a small voice that rips his heart clean in half. “Always,” he tells her, voice thick, and he clears his throat to mask the entirely unbidden intensity . But if her reaction is anything to go by, he will take the embarrassment, if it means she knows she doesn ’t have to carry these things alone. She doesn’t answer, but he thinks there is the slightest pink to her cheeks, although that is probably only the fire playing tricks, and they both fall silent. It’s no uncomfortable silence, more companionable, Aloy fletching her arrows, Erend cleaning his armor with the hot water, the night heavy around them. “What did your parents forge for you?” Erend looks up and finds her studying him, melancholy gone. “ A small knife,” he answers, and pulls it out of it’s sheath at his side. He passes it over to her, lets her study it. The

glyphs of his name are faded, but still readable, and she traces them with her fingers. “It’s customary for boys.” “It’s pretty,” she says, then eyes him again, “ And what did they make for Ersa?” He can see her hesitation in the question, unsure if the topic is welcome or not, and he can see her react when his expression turns dark, but he waves her apology away. “She got a brooch, like most girls.” Aloy’s scowl matches his own, and he grins. “Yeah, naturally, she loved that. Told you you two will get along. You know what she did? Turn the knife around.” She did as he asked, and he could see surprise and then a laugh as she traced the crudely written glyphs, spelling out his sisters name. “When she was ten, she got into a pretty bad argument with our father of wanting her own knife. He turned her down, harshly, like he was used to do. So I offered her mine.” “Isn’t that bad luck?” Aloy asks. “Nah, we’re not that superstitious. Besides, she engraved my name on her brooch, too.” “Sounds like you are close,” she says with a soft voice as she hands him back the knife. There’s the bile again, rising in his throat, and he fights it down. “Yeah,” he answers, softly, and then adds without thinking: “We had to be.” Aloy looks up and starts to ask him why, but that is a topic he is not ready to think about right now, not as long as Ersa isn’t safe and sound back by his side, so he grins and diverts the subject. “You know, maybe it was bad luck. My father always complained I was too soft, and Ersa too hard. Maybe we mucked it up when we engraved our names on the other ’s gifts.” It’s half a joke, and not that far from the topic before, but Aloy can’t know that. Still, she scowls. “Too soft? Why would he say that? You can hold your own on a battlefield, I’ve seen it, and you helped Avad take back Meridian.” Erend is definitely going red now, and hopes the darkness hides it. “Uh, yes, I can hold my own, but I always liked talking, I was always better than Ersa at being sociable. She was always the warrior out of the two of us. True steel. In comparison to her, I’m soft.” The scowl on Aloy’s face is deep now. “You’re not— that’s not a bad thing,” she says, voice hard and angry. He wonders what he’s done wrong now, until he realizes that Aloy isn’t angry at him, she’s angry for him, and his heart feels like he ’s dropped it straight from the Sun’s Terrace down into the canyon below. He stutters out a thank you, and Aloy looks down at her arrows again with a curd nod, resuming her work, mouth set in a grim line. Erend stops himself from imagining what made her say that, because he realizes that is a dangerous path to take. But the only other thing that comes to mind instead, are memories of his childhood, and thoughts of Ersa, and that is path he doesn’t want to take right now, so he asks Aloy how she wants to handle the next morning. They plan together, and agree that it might take them until mid-day to get the men ready to ride, but Aloy thinks it is worth the delay. They can rest through the heat, then ride a few hours, she says, and then make camp early, because the men will be sore after a couple of hours. “It takes a moment getting used to,” she grins. Erend doesn’t doubt it. Aloy expects them to reach the border of the Carja lands the evening after that, if they make good way, and from there on out they assume it might take them a day more to reach Pitchcliff. Aloy has not been there yet, but it would be two days more on foot, up into the mountains, Erend knows. “It all depends on if we run into trouble of course, but that could happen on foot, too. This way, we might be able to just outrun it,” Aloy says. Erend can’t believe it. Four days instead of seven or eight. “ I’ll get up a little earlier tomorrow and scout the area, find us a herd of Broadheads. We passed Striders before, but I think those might be a bit uncomfortable, especially for Oren,” she says with a

little grin, “ There’s a plateau to the east of here where I’ve had luck before. Might take me an hour or two to get back here.” “Should I come with you?” “No, I’m—” she starts, but he waves his hand. “Faster alone, I know,” he grins. “ Still, if you’re not back after breakfast, we’ll come look for you, okay?” He sees her want to argue, but she seems to bite it down. “I’ll leave a trail.”Satisfied and a little surprised, he nods. “ You should go to sleep then. Our shift is almost over anyways, and if you’re going to get up earlier, you should get the sleep now.” Aloy hesitates, but again, she surprises him and rises. “ Tell them to wake me an hour before dawn,” she says as she gathers her arrows and armor and stows them away. Before she heads to her tent, she looks down at him, uncertain. Whatever she wants to say, she seems to decide against it. She gives him a small smile, and wishes him a good night before she slips into her tent. Erend let’s out a huff and rubs his face. If he didn’t know better, this whole situation would feel like a big, cosmic joke. He spends the next half an hour drinking more tea, desperately trying not to think too much. Eventually, he pulls out the knife, studying the clumsy glyphs spelling Ersa . A wave of sadness rushes over him, but Erend shoulders it and forbids himself to grieve. Nothing is set in steel yet. She ’s survived worse before. And this time, she has him. Not just him, but Aloy, too, and that gives him more hope than he dares to feel. I ’m coming, Ersa. Just hold on. Erend grits his teeth and slips the knife back into its sheath. As he downs the rest of his tea, he gets up to wake Andrik and Beren. As they take their place at the fire, he instructs them to tell Karan he shall wake Aloy an hour before dawn. They ask him why, but he dodges their questions, too tired, and the grin Beren has on his face as he starts to ask a questions dies as he sees Erend ’s face. It’s what he appreciates about them; as much as they love to rile him up and rib each other, they all know when to stop. When he’s finally in his tent, body tired and mind running with thoughts of Ersa, their childhood, and more than occasionally, Aloy, Erend finally sinks into sleep.

Notes:Um. Hi. It sure has been a year, huh? Sorry for the long wait. This fic is not abandoned however, and never will be, even if I am awful at updating. Thank you to all who are still here, welcome to all that are new. Kudos and comments are always much much appreciated and give me incentive to write more!

[hzdphotos]

proud

[dhysis]

cudl

[horizonzeronikola-blog]

These two bring me undone ❤

[echoechowhiskey]

The battle with HADES has ended and Aloy has settled into a new life in Meridian. As she works to untangle the mess that is Gaia, she travels between tribes strengthening their bonds with one another, while simultaneously taking time to strength her own bond with a certain Vangaurd.

She's finding her footing, but without warning that footing falls away as a piece of her past she thought was gone forever suddenly... isn't.

A novel length AloyxErend fic full of love, murder and mystery, with an unexpected twist.

[candletrails]

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[colcmacgrath-archive]

Tagged by @arsuf, thank you!

Relationship status: single Favorite color: pink, gray Lipstick or chapstick: chapstick Last song:  O’ Death from Until Dawn Last movie: InFamous: Second Son cutscene lmao i dunno i don’t watch movies Top 3 shows: Criminal Minds, Bones, The Walking Dead Top 3 ships: my main ship rn is DelsinxFetch, AloyxErend idk

I tag: @sahuna @eliuthia @saintsrowtwo @wrxnches and anyone else who wants to do this

[ratchetaginger]

I love drawing them🥰

[demonpassion]

AloyxErend is the OTP of Horizon

- “I’ll always have a minute for you. Maybe even two.’ - “Two? Ha! She likes me.”

[xtolovers]

Wild Ember

Wild EmberCompanion fic to The Anvil Pairing: Aloy x Erend Rating: M ( albeit in later chapters) Warnings: Graphic Mentions of Violence Summary: Aloy is used to the look in people’s eyes when they regard her. Hatred.Mistrust. Disgust. Sometimes, careful curiosity. Even rarer, cautious friendliness. An unreprehended smile, almost never. The looks have changed since she became a brave, and again after she left the Sacred Lands, but they are never that different. She has a mountain of problems more pressing than helping a drunk Oseram find the murderers of his sister. The search for answers and revenge has driven her out of the Sacred Lands and a sense of urgency she can’t explain yet spurns her on. But there’s something about the grief and fury in his eyes that feels so close to her own, that Aloy can’t turn her back on. There is something else in his eyes she can’t turn away from either. Red stains cover her fingers as she’s ripping out another stalk of wild ember. The sun is just cresting over the mesa, casting a golden shine and the deep, long and soft shadows only found at dawn. The sounds from the waking city have started to drift down from the upper rings, but down here at the village set at the foot of Meridian people have been bustling about for the last half an hour. None of them have payed her much mind while she’s wandered the river shore, gathering herbs and passing the time, and Aloy is glad for it.

Back in the Sacred Lands, nobody had ignored her the way these people do. Back there, people acted like she wasn’t there by claiming loudly that they were not in any way acknowledging or accepting her presence. In her mind, she hears Rost’s voice, telling here they were only abiding the law and protecting themselves from even looking like they were breaking taboo, but the words were barely a comfort back then, and now, the grief and anger feel like Metalburn in her stomach. In Meridian all the attention she got was simply because she was a stranger, maybe a novelty as a traveling Nora, but to most of them she was just… part of the crowd. In a way, it’s like she’s not even here, and she can see how that could be lonely too, but to her it feels like a blessing, like sinking into a cool pond. The image makes her groan a little and she uses her free hand to wipe the sweat from her brow. Even though it is barely dawning, Meridian is already almost too hot for her. Admittedly the Blazon Armor helps, although her bare midriff is still something to get used to. It makes her feel unnecessarily vulnerable, but whenever a cool breeze grazes her skin, she knows it is worth it. The thought of spending the next days in the blazing heat of the desert is less than thrilling her, but she supposes it doesn’t make a difference. Even if she had turned down Erend’s plea, she’d still be baking in the sun for a while. Before she can head to Makers End, she has to make a detour to the Spurflints. She wants to curse her compassion, because she needs answers, but Rost’s last lesson has sunk too deep into her bones. To serve a purpose greater than yourself. Because of Rost, she wanted to kill Olin. Because of Rost, she didn’t. And now, this. Of course she had agreed to find Ersa, once she’d found out there was a chance she might still be alive.

A loud guffaw of laughter echoes down from the Eastern Gate, and Aloy taps her focus. Sure enough, she can see Erend’s familiar broad, purple silhouette flare to life, accompanied by five other people. She watches one of them rub his head as she starts to make her way up the ridge. The slightest bit of unease is buzzing in her stomach. This will be the first time she’s travelling with more than one person, and the fact that she is the outsider, again, is not exactly helping. Not like I’m not used to it. And Erend’s there. The thought gives her a little ease. As blunt and exasperating as he can be, Aloy knows his heart is in the right place, which is the reason she is hear after all. “A guy can remember that Aloy is the only reason we even know Ersa could still be alive, so a guy would do better to shut up!” Erend bellows somewhere on the ridge, and as Aloy’s head rifles through what this might have been the reply to, the unease crawls back. “I thought we were leaving at dawn. Where is she?” Another voice asks. The tone is more casual than exasperated, but Aloy clenches the herbs in her hand harder anyhow. She was here on time. She’d done everything right. She tries for sarcastic instead of angry, but her voice doesn’t completely comply. “At first light is what we agreed upon, I believe. She was here then, but because the rest of you weren’t here, I went down to the river and gathered some herbs in preparation.” At her words, Erend turns around, a look of … relief, she decides, on his face, while the other man, who has apparently spoken, clambers to stand up straight at her sight. A blush spreads across his cheek as another Vanguardsmen steps out between Erend and him, older than both of them, with a seasoned but kind face. At the right moment, he twists just so, and his hammer hits the younger man in the head. Aloy thinks of seeing him rub his head moments ago, and has to suppress a grin. The man bows his head to her, and out of the corner of her eye, she can see Erend watching him. “Apologies, m’am. We ought to have been here sooner, there is no time to lose.” Aloy corrects him and offers up her name. She has no business with titles and politeness, and there is no point in wasting time with them, not when the have a life to save.

Karan, she learns is his name, complies without protest, something that doesn’t happen nearly as much as she’d like, and Aloy decides that she likes him. With him and Erend along, she can do this. She sees him send a look to Erend, who clears his throat awkwardly and starts introducing his men. The one who had asked where she was is called Andrik, he’s one of the slimmer ones of the troop, even though that means little. Apparently all Oseram are sturdier in built, and even Andrik is as broad as the stronger Nora men she has met. She supposes he is good looking, in an obvious way, with dark hair falling around his dark eyes, a small beard at his chin, but Aloy can see a cockiness about him that hides insecurity. Two brothers, Beren and Enoch, both young, dark-skinned and the smallest of the group, one with short cropped curls, the other with a shaved head but both with full beards braided in different styles. Oren, a giant towering above the group with a reddish tint to his skin, a light brown bushy beard and a leather cord wrapped around his bald head. She returns their nods curtly, and turns to look at Erend. This time there is no hesitation as he meets her gaze with clear eyes. He is sober, and she is glad. The need for alcohol seems to be replaced by purpose, and she thinks it’s a good sign that he’s able to quit it when he needs to. With a nod she pushes through them, unsure of what to do other than get on the road. As she passes Andrik she makes a point of pushing the wild ember against his chest, hoping it’s enough to assert her presence, before she leads the group through the gates and up the trail. She forces herself not to look if they follow. As Avad’s Vanguard they have to be good fighters she supposes, but drunks or assassins are different opponents than a herd of machines in the wild. Erend can hold his own, she knows, but he is not exactly quiet either, and if they are going to run into machines— and they will— then Aloy would rather be at the tip of the group, dictating the conditions on which they will fight. The sound of several pairs of heavy steps are encouragement enough for her. She half expects Erend to catch up to her, but no one slips in next to her. It’s a quiet procession due north, and the silence behind her unnerves her. Erend alone usually makes more noise than all of them together right now. She would’ve expected a group of them to be loud, talking, joking, a  drunken road-song or two bellowed across the desert. Maybe she has it wrong, or they suppress their Oseram nature. She wonders if that is because of their positions as Vanguard or because of their dire quest. Aloy’s held out for nearly an hour when she glances over her shoulder in curiosity, wondering what had suddenly managed to stop Erend out of all people from talking. He’s watching his steps, and doesn’t notice her looking at him, apparently lost in thought. Erend seems tense, but she supposes that is to be expected given the purpose of their mission. A mission she hadn’t wanted to be part of, at first. Why should you have justice and not me? With a huff she turns back to the road. It wasn’t like she was really going to deny him her help. It was her own need for revenge and answers that needed fulfillment, that made her turn him down at first, not disregard for him. Erend had been one of the first people to treat her without suspicion or apprehensiveness, even if his personality took some getting used to. Back then, in Mother’s Heart, he’d been brazen and confident, clearly enjoying his status as emissary in such a savage tribe, and maybe she’d have found him off-putting, had it not been for the ease with which he’d calmed the crowd and the easy acceptance with which he’d answered her two dozen questions. Two minutes talking to him and it was easy to see that while his bravado wasn’t as real as he put on, his friendliness was. Only later she’d realized that he’d been flirting a little, too, embarrassed at her own obliviousness. Not that she’d wanted to reciprocate, but it made her keenly aware that where she was sure and experienced in the wilds, she was lost and unpracticed in  society. That was the first time anyone had ever expressed interest in her other than a harsh and rude remark made by a drunk hunter somewhere on the edge of some small village, but she still felt stupid for not understanding what he meant. At first, when she had headed to Meridian, she’d thought that maybe he could mistake her appearing there as an acceptance of his invitation, but Ersa’s seeming murder had  put an end to that before it could begin. He’d been happy to see her, but since then he’d made no further attempt to flirt with her— at least she thought so. The Oseram where so blunt and open, Aloy felt like half the time they were flirting with the whole world for no other purpose than simply because they could. But even completely drunk he hadn’t flirted with her once when she arrived in  Meridian, and nor any other time since then, so maybe he’d lost interest. Or maybe he was not drunk enough to miss the look on her face when he’d greeted her, and knew better than to try.

If she was honest, half of the reason why she didn’t accept his plea at first had been the state she’d found him in. Aloy had tried some liquor she’d wrangled from Karst three summers back, and after a few sips and the following problems with walking straight, decided she didn’t like it. Out in the wilds there was no room for inebriation if you wanted to survive, and the few incidents where she’d met drunken Nora— usually men— had been extremely uncomfortable. A part of her could understand him. There’d been a small part, or rather, there is a small part of her still, that wishes she could just diffuse all the pain, all the anger, all the questions. But it wasn’t an option. Rost never drank.

Your mind is a blade, Aloy, useless if not kept sharp at all times. The weird thing was, despite seeing through his bravado, she’d also thought Erend was capable, and when she’d found him at the gate, she was relieved for a moment, expecting his help. That had turned on its head pretty quickly,  and she’d been disappointed in more than one way. Helping him investigate a battlefield wouldn’t just cost her time, if he was going to be drunk and loud and slow to understand, it would cost her twice, and Aloy couldn’t risk it. Don’t act like this isn’t personal. Don’t make me beg. He didn’t have to. In the end, concerns and causes aside, it hadn’t really been in question. She’d spent hours on her way from the embrace to Meridian helping others, Rost’s last lesson still branded into her mind. Erend was right, and turning him down would’ve been cruel. And the pain and fury in his eyes, not disguised or hidden as if they were a weakness, felt all to familiar to her own. So she’d agreed, albeit reluctantly, but told him that he needed to pull it together if he wanted her help. Aloy had vowed to herself that she’d go to Red Ridge Pass and help him only if he was sober. And he was. His mind wasn’t clear, but this time it was only grief and anger, nothing else that occupied his thoughts, and that was something Aloy understood all too well. He’d surprised her that day, following her step by step, trusting her conclusions, closing the gaps next to her in battle. And then she’d looked around and felt the familiar rush of answers to be found, the thrill of the hunt. It didn’t take her long to piece the signs together, and the moment she realized that Ersa had been abducted, not killed, she’d expected to feel envy, but there was none. There was a rush of victory and satisfaction that she’d been useful, because she knew that without her help, Erend would still be grieving someone who was out there, waiting for him. The look on his face when she’d laid out her theory had erased all her doubts about whether or not she’d wasted time. The thought hurt, but she was only chasing revenge. Erend was chasing someone who could still be saved. So when she came back to Meridian and had her theory confirmed, Avad didn’t need to ask her. She was going anyway. But last night Aloy had slept poorly, ill at ease at the upcoming trip, not knowing what to expect of her companions. Now it looked like there hadn’t been any need to worry, because nobody had spoken to her in the last four hours. Aloy tries to shake the thoughts from her mind, but like flies they keep coming back, settling, itching. She focuses on her feet, on their surroundings, enaging her focus now and then, but they’re still close enough to Meridian that the machines are scattered sparsely before them. Above them the sun bears down on them, and she can feel the sweat in the small of her back and gathering in her hair at the base of her neck. They’ve been walking for hours, and it’s almost noon. They’re slow. With a flinch she thinks back to the basement. I’m faster alone. It was true, but maybe a little cruel too. She hasn’t been to Pitchcliff, but by Erends description it is to the north way past Red Ridge Pass, up in the mountains past the desert. If they keep this pace, it’ll take them a week to get there. A week Ersa might not have. They had passed a herd of Striders earlier, and Aloy had considered to get all of them mounts, but the silence weighed heavy on the back of her mind. If they didn’t talk to her because they thought she was strange and a savage, walking up to them with a bunch of tame machine in her wake would probably not help her image. Maybe that’s why Erend isn’t talking to me. The thought makes her angry and for half a dozen reasons, and she starts to walk faster to blow off some steam. Within minutes she’s out of earshot of the group, hand up on her focus, pretending to scout ahead. It takes half an hour of solid effort to let the anger go. It takes half an hour more to swallow her pride and let herself fall back to Erend, but she knows they need the rest. At the last moment she remembers that he is supposed to lead them, and the way he doubted himself, so she leaves the choice to him. “There’s a small valley between those mountains up ahead where we can rest for a bit. Unless you want to push ahead.” “Something you never do, I’m sure. Do you ever eat?” It’s the first real laugh she’s heard of him all day, and a little of her unease slips away. The way he teases her is no different than usual, so it’s probably just the stress of chasing his sister that keeps him silent. Erend turns around and watches his men for a second, all  of them avoiding her eyes.

Or maybe it’s his men’s opinion of me.

The dread comes back a little. Aloy pushes it down. It’s nothing she hasn’t handled before. “Let’s rest.” With a nod, she turns away, and hurries to the front of the group, where she doesn’t have to see the looks. Just as she’s pondering whether or not she should tell Erend that she will hurry to Pitchcliff alone and scout ahead, she can hear steps picking up behind her.

[dawnonthehorizon-blog1]

Someone asked me what my “rules” were for shipping. I told them I only have one rule: I only ship Canon.

After about 4 paragraphs of incomprehensible gibberish and an attempted intellectual beatdown, they asked why.

I explained that only the Canon couple has the connection, the interactions, the meaningful moments, the ATTRACTION to each other that make me believe it. Plus they usually, ya know, kiss at some point.

I respect that people are gonna ship…whatever they ship. And that’s ok. I just don’t see it.

Now in a world like HZD, Aloy never “chooses” anyone. So the skies the limit there. I’ll just have an order of AloyxErend, with some Teb and some Varl on the side.

[dhysis]

Oops I accidentally