By the time the forest finally thinned, Maelis' legs were shaking.
Not metaphorically. Actually shaking.
Riven noticed because her grip changed. It always did when she was tired — tighter at first, then oddly careful, like she was afraid if she squeezed too hard he'd vanish. Or break. Or maybe that she would.
"You're limping," he said quietly.
"I am not," she snapped immediately.
He raised an eyebrow. "You just dragged a half-dead man through a nightmare forest while threatening strangers. You're limping."
She scowled, then winced as she stepped wrong. "Fine. I might be limping. But you're bleeding, so I win."
"That's not how winning works."
"It is if I'm still standing," she muttered.
They reached a narrow ravine where moss-covered rocks formed a shallow overhang. It wasn't safe. It wasn't comfortable. But it was hidden — and right now, hidden mattered more than anything else.
Maelis lowered Riven carefully, almost reverently, easing him down against the stone wall. He hissed when his back hit the rock.
"Sorry," she said instantly, hands hovering. "Sorry, sorry. I— I didn't mean—"
"It's fine," he interrupted. "If I die, I'll haunt you for apologizing too much."
She snorted despite herself. "Good. At least you'll finally follow me around for a change."
He smirked weakly. "Careful. Sounds like you'd enjoy that."
She froze.
Just for a fraction of a second.
Then she turned away too quickly, busying herself with her satchel. "You're insufferable."
[Affinity Ledger Update: Emotional Fluctuation – Maelis Thorn]
[Note: Dependency reinforced through proximity and vulnerability.]
Riven closed his eyes briefly. The system's presence wasn't loud — it was observant. Like something sitting in the corner of the room, arms crossed, watching two people lie to themselves.
Maelis knelt in front of him and finally looked him over properly.
Really looked.
He was tall — taller than she'd expected — but lean, not built. His frame looked like it had once been strong and then forgotten what rest was. Pale skin, still tinged gray from blood loss. Sharp features softened only by exhaustion. His dark hair clung messily to his forehead, damp with sweat.
He looked… breakable.
That realization made her chest tighten in a way she didn't like.
"Okay," she said, voice steadier than she felt. "No moving. No talking. Definitely no dying."
"Bossy," he murmured.
She shot him a glare and immediately lost it when he smiled — small, tired, human.
"Stop that," she said.
"Stop what?"
"Looking like that."
He blinked. "Like what?"
"Like you trust me," she snapped — then froze, realizing what she'd said.
Silence stretched.
Riven studied her quietly. He didn't tease her this time. Didn't joke. Didn't deflect.
"That's dangerous," he said calmly.
Her jaw tightened. "I know."
She cleaned his wounds with shaking hands. Her touch was careful, almost intimate despite herself. Every flinch he made felt like a personal accusation. Every hiss of pain made her heart race.
"You're bad at this," he noted.
"I've never patched someone up who kept commenting," she shot back. "Be grateful."
"I am," he said simply.
She paused.
Then continued, more gently.
Riven noticed things as she worked — the way she favored her right leg, the faint tremor in her fingers, the way she avoided looking at his face too long. She was strong, but not endlessly so. Brave, but not fearless. And stubborn enough to destroy herself before admitting weakness.
A dangerous combination.
"Why did you help me?" he asked quietly.
She stiffened. "Because you were dying."
"That's not an answer."
She swallowed. "Because I couldn't leave you."
"That's worse."
She laughed — sharp, defensive. "You ask a lot of questions for someone who shouldn't even be alive."
He met her gaze. "You attached yourself to a stranger in a forest full of killers. You don't get to pretend that was rational."
Her hands trembled again.
"You don't understand," she said softly. "Everyone else who falls there… doesn't get back up."
"So I'm special?"
She shook her head fiercely. "No. That's the problem."
[Affinity Ledger Update: Emotional Reliance Deepening]
[Warning: Dependency threshold approaching.]
Riven felt it then — not power, but weight. The bond wasn't romantic yet. It was raw, unfiltered survival instinct turning into something tighter.
More personal.
"You're going to get hurt because of me," he said flatly.
She looked up at him, eyes flashing. "You're already hurt because of you. Don't put that on me."
He chuckled, then winced. "Fair."
She finished bandaging him and sat back on her heels, exhausted. For the first time since they'd met, there was nowhere else to run.
The silence settled between them — heavy, awkward, strangely intimate.
Maelis hugged her arms around herself. "If you survive," she said quietly, "you're going to attract trouble."
He tilted his head. "Jealous already?"
She glared at him. "I'm serious."
"So am I."
Her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means," he said slowly, "anyone who gets close to me now… pays a price."
She looked away. "I already did."
He didn't argue.
Because they both knew it was true.
Above them, the forest whispered. Somewhere far away, something moved. Watched. Waited.
Riven closed his eyes, letting exhaustion finally pull at him.
This was only the beginning.
And the first scar was already forming.