Chapter 4: Fractures and Bridges
The safe house's dim interior was colder than Aeryn remembered, or perhaps it was just the weight of Selene's presence that made the air seem heavier. The older woman's sharp gaze lingered on her, watching every movement, every breath. It had been hours since the morning's confrontation by the canal, but the tension still clung to them both like mist.
Aeryn sat cross-legged on her cot, the pendant hidden beneath her shirt but ever-present, its warmth a subtle comfort. She tried to focus on the small, tattered book she'd found on a nearby shelf, its pages filled with nonsensical scribbles that someone might have once called poetry. But Selene's presence, seated at the table across the room, was impossible to ignore.
"You're brooding again," Selene said finally, breaking the silence.
"I'm not," Aeryn replied curtly, not looking up.
"You are." Selene's voice was matter-of-fact, devoid of malice but carrying an edge of certainty. "I can hear it in your silence."
Aeryn's fingers tightened on the book's frayed cover. She hadn't asked Selene to come closer, to start speaking to her like they were equals. Selene had been cold and detached since their first meeting, and Aeryn had found some solace in the distance. But now? Now the woman seemed… different. And Aeryn didn't trust it.
"What do you want?" Aeryn asked, finally looking up. Her tone was sharper than she intended, but she didn't soften it.
Selene leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable. "You," she said simply. "Your safety. Your survival. Your strength."
The words made Aeryn's stomach churn. She couldn't decide if they were a promise or a threat. "Why?"
Selene's eyes flicked to the pendant beneath Aeryn's shirt, though she said nothing about it. Instead, she sighed, a sound that seemed more weighted than usual. "Because you're important. Even if you don't see it yet."
The sincerity in Selene's tone unnerved Aeryn more than her usual coldness. Important. She didn't feel important. She felt like a mistake, a nobody from the Dust Quarter who'd stumbled into something far beyond her understanding. The idea that Selene, or anyone, saw her as valuable made her uneasy.
"Is that it?" Aeryn asked, her voice laced with suspicion. "You want to use me. Just like everyone else."
Selene's expression hardened. "I'm not like everyone else."
Aeryn laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Right. And I'm supposed to believe that? After everything I've seen? After everything I've been through?"
Selene opened her mouth to respond but stopped, her eyes narrowing slightly. Aeryn's words hung between them, heavy with unspoken pain. The younger woman's posture was tense, her hands clenched tightly around the book as though it might anchor her to something solid. It struck Selene then, how raw Aeryn still was, how much of her strength was built on fractured foundations.
"You think I'm going to hurt you," Selene said softly.
"Aren't you?" Aeryn shot back. Her voice cracked, betraying the depth of her mistrust. "That's what people do. They hurt you. They use you. And when you're not useful anymore, they throw you away."
Selene felt the words like a punch to the gut. She hadn't expected this—this raw, unfiltered glimpse into Aeryn's mind. For all her cold exterior, Aeryn was still a wounded child beneath it, carrying scars that hadn't healed.
"I'm sorry," Selene said after a long pause. The words felt foreign on her tongue, but she meant them.
Aeryn looked at her, startled. She'd expected deflection or dismissal, not an apology. Her guard wavered, though she quickly rebuilt it. "Sorry doesn't change anything."
"No, it doesn't," Selene agreed. "But I'm still sorry. For what you've been through. For the way the world has treated you. And for not realizing sooner how much it's shaped you."
Aeryn didn't respond. She looked down at her hands, at the way her fingers had worn the edges of the book's cover smooth. The apology felt genuine, but she didn't know what to do with it.
Selene stood, crossing the room in a few quick steps. She knelt beside Aeryn's cot, lowering herself to Aeryn's level. "I don't want to use you, Aeryn," she said firmly. "But I'm not going to pretend I don't have my reasons for keeping you close. You're strong. Stronger than you know. And I want to see you become everything you're capable of. But that's your choice. Not mine."
Aeryn met her gaze, searching for deceit but finding none. Selene's eyes were steady, her expression open in a way Aeryn hadn't seen before. It scared her, this honesty. It scared her even more than Selene's coldness had.
"Why me?" Aeryn whispered.
Selene's lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. "Because you're worth it."
The words hit Aeryn like a thunderclap. She didn't believe them—not yet—but for the first time, she thought maybe she could. Maybe, just maybe, she was more than the broken pieces of her past.
Selene rose, her usual air of control settling back over her like a cloak. "Get some rest," she said, her tone brisk but not unkind. "We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."
Aeryn nodded, watching as Selene returned to the table and resumed her quiet study of the maps and documents strewn across it. She still didn't trust Selene completely, but something had shifted between them. The bridge was fragile, but it was there.
For the first time in a long time, Aeryn allowed herself to hope.