I was writing a v long Knighttide piece, but have cut and refined and made it into... whatever this is.
The night air slowly drifted in the cracked window. The breeze danced gently along Jaxâs exposed skin and she sighed. Had there ever been a more perfect evening?
Aernâs body, tangled with hers, shone gently in the whitewashed moonlight, hair- long and full- spilling out across her back. Jax let out a sigh of contentment. She wasnât quite sure why Aern liked her, but somehow this woman blushed the cutest red when Jax smiled at her and that was enough for Jax-- for now.
Red had always been a hard color for her-- angry, temperamental, reminding her of her fatherâs rage and her motherâs indifference. She felt a sickness in that red-- the rage that sat dormant within her each day, waiting to explode in battle⊠and sometimes out of it.
But Aernâs eyes-- red like cherries and strawberries and the sweetest fruits-- was just the opposite. That red washed over the rage, calmed the torrent seas within Jaxâs heart. This red, Aernâs red, felt soft and warm and affectionate.
Her eyes reminded Jax of a field of red poppies, like the expansive meadow was before her and Jax had no other desire but to lay there forever, staring into the depths of red, resting her head down in the bed of flowers.
Aern gently stirred in her sleep and Jax smiled down at this unit of a woman, strong as Jax-- perhaps more so. There was so much sadness in Aernâs eyes when she thought Jax wasnât looking, when she didnât realize her guard was down a bit.
Whatâs the point of being strong if you canât protect people from the hurt? Jax mused. If she could reach her hand in Aern and pull the trouble from her chest, let her breath easier, she would.
Sheâd lay her life for her friends-- if Nirahâs troubles got too hefty, if Killianâs- and by default Jaxâs- past caught up with them, if Mari ever needed anything, if Keikaâs ghost issues got worse⊠Jax knew that she could give herself for that, would give herself for them.
But now⊠with Aern here⊠would Jax still give her life, knowing that she could see Aern again? That there was a chance to let herself actually feel this crush, to let it maybe move past the crush stage? She swallowed the lump in her throat, she wasnât sure.
You have to, Jax, she thought to herself. You have to, you have to stay strong.
She squinted her eyes shut, there had been too much loss lately. Too many people getting hurt, people leaving, secrets surfacing. Her fatherâs voice rang in her head, the first time since sheâd regained consciousness that it resounded so clearly in her mind: Affection is weakness, Tolsa. Do not disappoint me, do not be weak.
She ran her thumb over Aernâs cheek, pushing her bangs back, to see her face, to press a kiss to her forehead as she slept. Do you make me weak? Do you pose a threat to me? Jax sighed, with every emotion she had locked inside her chest in this moment, doubting Aern and the happiness and the desire was not one, no matter how loud her fatherâs voice screamed. Besides, her thoughts continued, you know if Aern asked, youâd follow her anywhere, help her with anything. Itâs who you are. That doesnât make you weak.
Jax folded her arm behind her head, tightening her other around Aernâs body. She would do anything if someone asked her. She knew she was here for that reason-- to help, to protect, to be the strength when people canât be strong enough to go on. Her father was wrong. Affection was not weakness. It was weak to bottle up everything and pretend like nothing bothers you and to explode on your daughter because you couldnât handle the feelings. That was weak. It was weak to instill shitty toxic thoughts in your daughter's mind to make her think that she would only be worthy of being a Stoneback if she was hardened like said stone. That was weak. Jax was not a Stoneback, but an Evergrey. Sheâd choose Killian a thousand times over if it meant she would get to be who she was today, no matter the cost of her own memories.
The ceiling danced above her as her eyes filled with tears and she took a few shaky breaths to calm her nerves, tensing her abdominal muscles gently to hide the shakes so as to not wake Aern up. Stone is hard and rough and cold, Jax thought to herself, we are not. So-- weâll be clay. Soft and malleable to the needs around it, but strong enough to withstand force and heat and pressure.
Jax smiled at the thought, looking down at Aern, eyes swimming with affection. âOh Aern⊠what have you done to me.â she whispered, her breathy voice barely louder than the gentle night breeze.
If⊠if this was just a one night stand though⊠Jax had begun to think, stealing one more glance at Aernâs sleeping face. She chuckled under her breath. Nah, itâs definitely more than that. Itâs⊠itâs hopefully more than that.
She didnât want Aern to leave, to go back to Venusadt, to the enforcers. She just wanted to stay here in this room, ignoring the world around them, living in secret bliss. But she also knew that was unlike both of them, they wouldnât be able to shut out the world that long, that both would want to help and would have duties to uphold. Jax swallowed her slight sadness at that, focusing instead on the good feelings of the evening.
Jax closed her eyes, trying to sleep but her mind filled with Aernâs hands on her skin. Her arms. Her back. Her thighs. She wrapped her other arm around the knightâs body, pulling her as close as she comfortably could. Her thoughts still swimming, images as real as the evening had been hours before. Aern turning, body washed in moonlight; Aern kissing her deeply, her hands tangled in Jaxâs hair; the primal need that took both woman over, bodyâs arching and shaking with touches and kisses; the quiet whispered âi want youâsâ and âiâm yoursâ: over and over like a broken record through Jaxâs head: the world around her spinning as she laid still with herâs in her arms.