Faebreaker

11: Heart

Erik remembered everything now, everything about that night. The gentle whisper of the girl's voice, the touch of her skin, her carrying him across the river. Everything, minus only the most obscure of details.

The arrival of the visitor had caused an unexpected delay in Sorcha's departure. Her party stayed the day, milling about, passing time as Sorcha and what appeared to be her friend had their reunion. Lesie swung her greatsword outside, practicing her stances, which Erik regarded with a sense of awe as he watched from one of the tavern's windows. Her form, impeccable, made the weapon seem a part of her as her argent red hair rippled through the wind. He only imagined the actual weight of the thing. At first glance, it looked like she wouldn't have been able to pick it up. I wonder if I can even lift that sword a foot off the ground. He probably couldn't.

As for the other two, they arm-wrestled each other to death for quite sometime, Alec and Hamish going at it as they competed for free drinks amongst the patronage. Erik had already said that they had free reign over the place...but he supposed some friendly competition would help pass the time. Most of the time, Hamish won, but sometimes times Alec did, especially when they switched arms, which they did frequently.

Still though, the fact that this man claimed he was the girl's father remained. Erik stood skeptical on the matter, but either way, he knew he needed to talk to this man if he wanted to get closer to an answer. Sorcha might have brushed him off, but maybe this Alaric wouldn't, despite whatever foreboding impression he exuded. If that girl's a fairy or whatever...then that man—

That man was something else entirely.

As day turned to night, the patronage emptied until Sorcha's party and only several others remained. The two had spoken for hours, eventually choosing to go behind closed doors in one of the rooms for rent.

Erik sat with only Lia to keep him company. She appeared distant, her head on the counter with both her arms acting as a rest. Maybe he'd been too forward earlier. He didn't know, but he intended to make things better at least.

"Lia?" He strode over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry about earlier. I—" Unsure of what to say after that, he chose to apologize again instead. "I'm sorry."

Lia picked her head up, looking back at the boy with dreamy eyes. "Erik," she said longingly. "I need you to promise me something."

He'd hardly expected this, pretty certain that she was supposed to say, "No, it's me, not you," or some similar fake line. Listening quietly, he nodded to her in response.

"I want to tell you something," she said, almost crying as she rose from her seat, going towards the staircase behind the counter. "Upstairs, please..."

Erik trailed behind her, thumping up the staircase as Lia led him to her room. The inn was quiet, with only hushed whispers below, and a loud snoring that Erik was fairly certain was Hamish's.

Father...slept as usual, as though he might be in that room forever and ever. He'd talk to him tonight, He needed to. A sadness ate away at the pit of Erik's stomach, and judging from the look on Lia's face, he was fairly certain that something ate away at her as well.

She led him in, and sitting down at her bedside, she beckoned him over with the sea-breezy calmness of her voice.

He sat down, and Lia didn't break the silence for quite some time. She sat there, twiddling her fingers as a low-lit candle flickered on a table set up beside her bed.

She picked her head up, and looking Erik in the eyes, she inched over, slowly, but with a certain inevitability. Their noses touched, and their breaths brushed up against each other's lips. "Let's do what best friends do," she said, "And not care, if just for one night."