"Mhm. My nana would tell me stories of Elvish women who were abducted by the fae to be their brides, because they were beautiful and strong. They were taken to the otherworld until they produced an heir. It’s probably just a story, but it was one of my favorites when I was little. I used to think it was so romantic . . . then I realized how creepy it actually is."
Ainsley’s brow was furrowed, his eyes narrowed in thought before he shook it away, shooing the air beside of his face like it was an annoying gnat.
"You okay?"
"Oh yeah, I’m great. Just one of those questions I don’t really want answered, I think. If your friends are all so fucked up, how did you turn out so normal?"
Ris side, leaning against his chest, shrugging. "I don't know, but I'm grateful. My parents are totally chill. Maybe it's because they're poor?" She laughed at her own answer as he rolled his eyes. "No, I'm totally serious! I told my mom I didn't want to have kids a few years ago and I thought it was going to be this whole big thing."
She sobered, remembering the conversation. It had been at the beach, on their little yearly holiday. They’d been walking along the shoreline, reaching a rocky outcropping where she’d dug for crabs as a child, building elaborate structures behind the protective barrier of the rocks.
"I don’t want to have a baby," she’d blurted, her ears heating, despite the wind coming off the waves, breaking in an unending line of whiteheads. "I’ve thought about it a lot, and I . . . I don’t think I’m ever going to change my mind. I don’t think I want to get married either."
Her mother had gripped her hand, and they’d walked in silence for several minutes before she spoke.
"Your father and I tried for years," she said finally, smiling as a plover zigzagged before them. "Both of your grandmothers were insufferable. Insufferable. The whole time. I had three miscarriages. And all they wanted to know was when we were trying again. They’d pull out birth rate statistics like we didn’t know they were declining and it was somehow up to us to reverse natural selection." They’d reached the seaweed-covered legs of the dock above, the spot where they turned around, where they’d been turning since she was a child, hand-in-hand. "It was worth it, sweetheart, because we love you more than anything else in this world . . . but I wouldn’t wish that on you for anything. All we want is for you to be happy, Ris."
"Like, maybe they were disappointed in private, but they didn't push," she went on, feeling Ainsley’s arm slip around her, curling around her waist. "They never made me do anything I didn't really want to. I won the parental lottery, I think."
"Sounds like it."
"Which is why you don't get to be such an asshole to Silva." When he made a noise in his throat, dismissing her words, Ris frowned, turning. "No, I'm serious. You don't understand the position we're put in. It's not just about having bougie parents who are specist or whatever. And don't get me wrong, most elves aretotallyspecist. But correct me if I'm wrong, so are most orcs. At least the ones I've met."
"They are," he agreed reluctantly. "Especially the clan-raised ones."
"This is so much bigger than that. We're literally taught in primary school that our only job in society is to have an Elvish baby so that our bloodline doesn't die out. Elvish populations have been dwindling for more than 100 years. Do you know how much pressure that is? Our grandparents and great-grandparents don't want to hear that we fell in love with a goblin or troll or an orc, because every generation that gets further away from that Elvish bloodline is a generation further away from that stupid turkey claw. None of it makes any sense and it's all completely arbitrary and absolute bullshit, and little girls are the ones who bear the brunt of it. So if I were to tell you right now that it's me or Shu'la, how fair would you feel that is? That's what we deal with. My friend Lurielle went no contact with her mom, and granted, the reasons there are myriad, but the whole 'pressure to get married to the first elf that comes along' was a huge part of it. So be nice to Silva. Your friend isn’t exactly unproblematic, you know. I would have an easier job bringing home a rock from your parking lot and telling my parents it's my true love than she has with him, let's be real. He looks like he’s going to murder everyone in the room more than fifty percent of time, and you can’t even deny that."
"Fine. You win! I'll be nicer to your spoiled brat friend, are you happy now? And to be fair, he’s only looked that way recently, because all he and Elshona do is fight anymore. We're having a party for him, right at the close of the season. Rukh and I were talking and in all the years the Pixie's been open, we've never thrown a party, isn't that ridiculous? We have a pub! At our disposal! It’s such a waste. And in all the years I've known him he's never had a birthday party, so that's our excuse." He chuckled. "I don't even know when his birthday is. But we figured he'd throw a fit if we tried to do anything during tourist season, and once the league starts up, that's it, they're packed. So we have like a two-week window. We'll see if your friend is still around by then." He cocked his head in thought for a moment, a grin spreading on his face until it broke into that big beaming smile. "That'll be our anniversary, Nanaya. Can you believe it? We're the hottest, normalest couple we know, and we're almost one year old. Oh! This is it! It’s this one! With the mummies!"
Ris settled back against him, scooping up a handful of the wasabi-flavored popcorn they had in a giant bowl. It didn't feel like a year. It felt like a handful of weeks at most, grains of sand, chafing beneath her skin. A full year of his life, gone in the blink of an eye, the same amount of time it had taken her to wash her hair or blow her nose, or at least, that's how it felt. She needed life to slow down; slow down and let her savor these moments, moments like this.
"We'll have to celebrate that," she murmured, tipping her head back against his shoulder. "One year is a big deal, right? One year closer to putting your brain in a jar."
She tipped her head back as he kissed her, agreeing cheerfully as she leaned against him, settling against his chest.
“Do you know how much neuraltechnology will have advanced by the time I’m ready to croak? You’ll probably be able to wear me like a smartwatch!”
She didn't especially want a relationship, she reminded herself as she shushed him, and she certainly had gone looking for love. Ris wasn't still quite sure how both had seemed to find her, but as she made herself comfortable against his warmth, she couldn't quite find it in herself to complain.
♥ ♥ ♥
Summer
