"You dare!" Rissa hissed. She drew the dagger just an inch from its sheath, the silver metal gleaming in the firelight. "Take one more step, and I swear to the gods I'll open your throat."
Finn froze. He looked at her raised weapon, then up at her face. A faint, deeply regretful smile touched his lips.
"Well... that would be a mercy," he whispered, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the embers.
"What?" Rissa spat back, her eyes narrowing in disbelief and her guard rising even higher. She hated his dejected tone. She hated the sadness in his eyes.
Instead of stepping back or drawing his own blade, he slowly lowered himself to the dirt. He sat down right there, exactly at arm's length from her, crossing his legs.
He didn't say another word. He just sat in the dirt, staring up at her through the flickering flames, looking completely broken.
Realizing he wasn't going to move, she turned her shoulder, ready to walk away and go back to the safety of the stuffy carriage. She didn't want to spend another second in his presence.
"I won't hurt you," Finn said quietly, his voice low and raspy.
Rissa stopped. She slowly turned her head back to look down at him, her eyes filled with pure, cold disgust.
"Hurt me?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You think I'm afraid of you?"
Aeryn was asleep. Her breathing was still shallow and fast, her body shivering under the heavy wool blankets as she fought the quiet, consuming fever. Rissa had stayed by her side for hours, wiping her burning forehead with a damp cloth until her own arms ached with exhaustion. Eventually, the air inside the wooden box became too heavy to breathe so she stepped out as the carriages stopped for a stay.
She sat down by the small campfire. The flames crackled softly, throwing orange light against the dark rocks. Rissa stared into the heat, her hands wrapped tightly around her knees, trying to block out the rising panic in her chest.
Crunch.
The sound of a boot stepping on dry dirt was tiny, but to Rissa's hyper-alert ears, it sounded like a thunderclap.
She casually looked up, trying to appear calm. But the moment her eyes adjusted to the darkness beyond the fire, her heart stopped.
Finn was walking toward her.
In an instant, all her exhaustion vanished. Rissa jumped to her feet, her boots kicking up a small cloud of red dust. Her right hand flew straight to her belt, her fingers locking tightly around the wooden hilt of her dagger. Every muscle in her body went rigid.
Finn tried to take another step toward her.
"You dare!" Rissa hissed, her voice a sharp, lethal whisper in the dark night. She drew the dagger just an inch from its sheath, the silver metal gleaming in the firelight. "Take one more step, and I swear to the gods I'll open your throat."
Finn froze. He looked at her raised weapon, then up at her face. A faint, deeply regretful smile touched his lips.
"Well... that would be a mercy," he whispered, his voice barely louder than the crackle of the embers.
"What?" Rissa spat back, her eyes narrowing in disbelief, her guard rising even higher. She hated his dejected tone. She hated the sadness in his eyes.
Instead of stepping back or drawing his own blade, he slowly lowered himself to the dirt. He sat down right there, exactly at arm's length from her, crossing his legs.
He didn't say another word. He just sat in the dirt, staring up at her through the flickering flames, looking completely broken.
The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating. Rissa's hand trembled slightly on her hilt. She refused to even speak his name. To utter it would be to grant him some lingering piece of the humanity and friendship she thought they once shared. Now, he was nameless to her, just a cold, heavy presence. She hated how calm he was. She hated the way he looked at her. She felt her skin crawl just being near him.
Realizing he wasn't going to move, she turned her shoulder, ready to walk away and go back to the safety of the stuffy carriage. She didn't want to spend another second in his presence.
"I won't hurt you," Finn said quietly, his voice low and raspy.
Rissa stopped. She slowly turned her head back to look down at him, her eyes filled with pure, cold disgust.
"Hurt me?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You think I'm afraid of you? You're a coward."
The sight of him sitting there brought a rush of bitter memories flooding back into her mind. When they had first boarded the ship, he had been so different. He was a silent, shy boy. He was the kind of person who had never really been close to a woman his age, always turning his path on the wooden deck just to avoid crossing her way. Rissa remembered how he used to blush whenever she spoke to him. He was quiet, clumsy, and she had actually thought he was sweet. She had trusted him. She had treated him like a friend.
And then, he had played his misogynistic card.
He had turned that innocent trust into complete disgust. Underneath the shy blushes and the awkward steps, he was just like the rest of them. A man. A monster hiding in a human body.
She remembered the dark, damp hull where the air smelled of salt and rotting wood. Aeryn had been so sick then, struck down by that cursed black magic object. Rissa had been entirely alone, desperately trying to keep the Queen alive while the ship tossed on the waves.
And he had come down into the dark.
He hadn't drawn a sword. He hadn't raised his fists. Instead, he had used his massive size and his physical presence to slowly crowd her into a corner. He had walked closer and closer, looming over her, trapping her against the wooden beams of the ship. He did it to scare her, to manifest his ugly, heavy authority over a young, helpless woman. He wanted to show that he was the master of that wooden castle, and she was nothing. It was a dirty, deliberate display of a man trying to make himself feel big by making her feel small and weak.
The memory of that deep, aching hurt made Rissa's stomach turn. She had felt so dirty, so small, and so incredibly disgusted by him that day.
Now, standing by the fire, looking down at him sitting at her feet, that same disgust burned in her chest like wildfire.
"You like to think you're powerful," Rissa said, her voice turning steady and dangerously calm, completely avoiding his name. "You like to crowd women into dark corners when they have no one to protect them. You did it on the ship because the Queen was too weak to cut your head off. You wanted to make me feel small. You wanted to show me your ugly power."
He didn't look angry. Instead, he slowly lowered his head, his eyes staring down at his scarred hands resting on his knees. The orange firelight danced across his face, revealing a deep, painful expression.
"I have hated myself every single day since that happened," he murmured, his voice so quiet it was nearly swallowed by the wind.
Rissa blinked, her grip on her dagger pausing. She hadn't expected that level of raw dejection.
"It is the truth," he continued, looking up at her with eyes that were no longer cold, but heavy with shame. "When I came down into that hull... I was terrified. I didn't trust you or your Queen. I wanted to force you to tell the truth about who you both were. I thought it was the only way to protect my crew. But..." He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I never, ever wanted to scare a woman like that. I didn't realize what I was doing until it was too late. I am a raw man if it was a man it wouldn't have mattered....but ..."
He looked at her, his eyes shining in the firelight.
"I only realized my mistake when I looked at your face," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "I saw the fear in your eyes. Pure, terrifying fear. And my heart shattered. my heart was screaming, oh god, Finn, what have you done? You've done so wrong. i didn't know it then...In just a few short days, you had started to mean so much to me. And when I saw my own ugly reflection in your eyes... I started to hate the man looking back at me. I have looked in the mirror every morning since then and disgusted myself. No idea how many i have broken." he said while checking his bandaged knuckles that were red stained.
The silence returned, but this time, the sharp anger in the air had softened into something heavy and sad. Rissa looked at him, searching his scarred face for any sign of a lie, any sign of more manipulation. But there was none... only raw regret.
She slowly let her hand fall away from her dagger, though she did not sheath it completely.
Rissa said, her voice quiet but firm. "You broke me."
He gave a slow, painful nod. "I know. And I am sorry."
Rissa didn't offer him forgiveness. Some wounds were too fresh, and some memories were too dirty to wash away with a simple apology. But she didn't spit any more venom at him either. She turned her back on him, walking away.
She climbed back into the royal carriage, pulling the heavy wooden door shut behind her, leaving him to sit alone with his regrets in the cold night.
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