Shining 3

 The first week consisted of adjusting their lifestyles to include one another. Aizawa wasn't used to living with anyone, but the pale woman was unobtrusive and a great help. She was exceptionally good at fishing and beach combing, and, though she wasn't the best at cooking, she elevated the food several levels higher than what he could manage.

Their strangest arrangement involved their sleeping conditions, because she didn't mind sharing the bed with him at night. He found that out right away when it was time to sleep again.

Aizawa groaned and slapped a palm to his forehead. "I haven't had time to set up a cot or anything. I didn't think. I'll sleep on the hearth again, and tomorrow -"

"But there's room here." She patted the spot beside her on the bed. He'd gone to the village and gotten her some cast off clothing that very day, and she was wearing a long, plain nightshift instead of his coarse shirt. "Unless you'd rather not share your bed," she added mildly. "I'm telling you I don't mind, Aizawa. You're a good man and I trust you."

If he were to be honest with himself, she was really testing his willpower. She probably knew this, too, since he felt he was embarrassingly obvious in the looks he cast her way and the awkward positioning of his trousers. He finally decided sharing would be the most logical course of action, yet it still felt very strange.

Even stranger was the fact that once they began sleeping in the same bed, the nightmares all but ceased. He woke up now and then in a cold sweat, but ghostly pain in his back and the memory of the lights were fading.

He made no moves toward her, and the bed was indeed large enough to share without them touching. It had been here when he took over the place, and made with a family in mind. This was something, he realized, that he had been yearning for and never dreamed he might have.

They lived comfortably together for a couple more weeks and Elly never mentioned her stolen clothing. She wore the random plaid dresses he gave her without comment except to thank him, using a shell from the beach she cleverly combined with a pin to fashion a brooch to hold everything together.

Though she seemed content, one night at dinner he decided to ask her about the items in more detail.

"Were there family heirlooms?" He touched the chain of the necklace he wore, lingering on it with his fingertips. "You don't seem to be too concerned about getting them back."

Elly checked the fish on the fire and pulled them to the side. "I've been looking," she told him quietly. "No one has sold anything resembling my outfit in town, and nothing's been shipped out. Someone's holding on to them."

"That reminds me," he said, filling his cup with ale from the flagon on the table. "It's about that time of the year when a certain traveling merchant stops by. You might want to talk with him about that." He drank deeply and then sighed.

She placed a bowl of potatoes and another of carrots on the table. "How do we know when he's coming?"

"He'll stop here, first. He's about the only friend I have. Doesn't act like I've got the plague or anything like those people up there." Aizawa jerked a hand in the direction of town. "I like being alone, but their attitude towards me is completely illogical."

"Why <i>do</i> they treat you like that?" She asked curiously as she served him a roasted fish. "I think they're a little nicer to me, but it could be because I'm a woman. It doesn't feel genuine at any rate, but when they talk about you it's different."

"My past is vague," he warned.

"That's okay. I want to know what I can about you. Whatever you want to tell me is fine."

He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking off into the distance as he gathered his thoughts. "I guess... I kind of just showed up here as a kid. Something terrible happened to my folks, and I don't remember much after that. I do know that by the time I was a teenager I'd been living here by myself for some time. I don't know how I survived when I was smaller, because the townspeople damn near shunned me at first."

Elly paused in the act of putting a fork full of fish in her mouth. "They did <i>whaaaat</i>? To a child?!"

"I don't know exactly why," he shrugged, tossing his long hair back as it threatened to spill onto his plate. "But I managed to get by, and learned a lot by myself out of desperation. When I got older I guess they sort of accepted me because I trade them fish in return for the things I need."

"They barely accept you," she insisted, frowning and upset. "I thought people were supposed to help each other like you did me."

"I look different." He reached around and tugged his hair back from his face. "My eyes, my dark hair. They're afraid of things that aren't like them. I think," here he let his hair drop back down, almost hiding a rare, small grin. "I think they believe I'm some fairy creature or something."

She giggled faintly, though her brow was still drawn. "What are you, then? You're far too large to be a leprechaun and I've yet to see any gold around here."

Now Aizawa laughed. It was rarer than the grin - a sort of dry, coughing sound that grew more natural as he warmed up. She smiled and held out her hand, and he took it without thinking.

"I've never had use for gold," he chuckled wryly.

"Me either," she confessed. "It might look pretty to some, but I can do just fine without."

"Money doesn't buy happiness, though poverty is no guarantee of bliss," he quoted glibly.

"Well, we're not empoverished either, then. So I'd say we're happy!"

He laughed a little louder with her hand held gently in his.