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authorgirl0131 · 3 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Seven Realms Series - Cinda Williams Chima Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Han Alister/Raisa ana'Marianna Characters: Han Alister, Raisa ana'Marianna Additional Tags: Touch-Starved, Touching, But not in a sexual way - Freeform Summary:

Ever since Mari and his mam died, Han has had this ache in his chest that bursts into flames whenever he was touched.

@i-love-all-books

The burning started a month after Mari and his mam was killed.

At first, the burn was just a dull ache in his chest, barely there and not, in Han’s opinion, worthy of note. It didn’t hurt that much and was very easily shoved to the back of his mind, and he kind of just assumed it was part of grief and the fact that he’s gotten his family killed. Most of the time, he just ignored it.

Until Bayar’s murder attempt.

After his near-lethal fall down the stairs, one of the higher students had practically dragged him to the infirmary to make sure he hadn’t broken anything important. The nurse had checked his wrists, his ribs, his skull, her bare hands prodding his skin-

The dull ache in his chest turned into fire that burned so agonizingly that he had almost shouted.

The fire took a while, nearly two hours, to finally dull back down to an ache, and once he wasn’t immobilized by the agony he’d instantly gone into the amulet to ask Alger what the heck was going on. Alger hadn’t known, he’d never heard anything like it, but he swore up and down that Han hadn’t been cursed. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he would have known if Han had been cursed.

Meaning that, whatever this was, Han would just have to deal with it until he found out what was wrong.

The next month was spent actively avoiding touch, which wound up being pretty hard once the other students began to like having him around. He dodged what touch he could and, when someone did touch him, he retreated to his room as soon as possible and spent the next few hours curled up on his bed, his pillow held against his chest in an iron grip. The other students gathered that he didn’t like touch fairly quickly, thank Hanalea, and that made it easier. He avoided touch like the plague, and the ache in his chest stayed just that- an ache.

Then Rebecca came along.

He realized, a bit too late, that their lessons in all things court would soon mean dancing lessons, and he tried everything he could to stall it, but it couldn’t be avoided forever. Not wanting to reveal whatever was wrong with him, Han reluctantly agreed to her dance lessons. He grabbed her hand (the fire lit,) wrapped an arm around her slim waist (it seared.) Her hand went to his shoulder and she moved close, not so close that their bodies were flush, but close enough for her to occasionally brush against his burning chest.

He’d thrown himself back, moving away from her so quickly that he tripped over the table and hit the ground hard. She’d rushed over, hand reached out to help him up, and he’d cringed away.

Her mouth had dropped open. He was pretty sure she had gotten the wrong idea, but she didn’t try to touch him again.

Their dance lessons were different, her telling him what to do, him trying it (without a partner,) and her correcting what he did wrong, all while she never touched him. He was glad she was being so considerate, but the memory of her touch lingered, coming after him in the late hours of the evening, lighting him on fire and keeping him from sleeping.

Hanalea, he wanted to dance with her again.

Months passed, a lot happened. Rebecca had revealed herself to be Raisa ana’Marianna, the princess. She was crowned, Fellsmarch was very nearly invaded, Han became High Wizard…

They began courting.

While he was happy, so incredibly happy, his problem came back. Unlike before, he couldn’t find a way to avoid touching her. He was her lover, they were supposed to hold hands and hug and kiss and all of that fun stuff, and he wanted to do that… But the one time she hugged him, the fire had become so bad that he’d nearly thrown himself across the room. She hadn’t said anything, but he could see her confusion. Worse, he could see just a bit of hurt.

He’d wanted to tell her, but what would he say? That he was cursed? That he was sick? He couldn’t explain what was going on when he didn’t even know! Han didn’t like not knowing.

Then, two weeks after the hug incident, he’d finally gotten an answer.

In a fit of desperation over not even being able to hold the hand of the woman he loved, he’d gone to the royal doctor. He’d explained everything. And she’d given him a diagnosis.

Touch starvation.

Somehow, hearing those two words made him feel even worse. He knew about starving for food, for water, for adventure and the like. But who had ever heard of being starved for touch? Hanalea’s bloody bones, that sounded pathetic.

According to the doctor, the only way to treat touch starvation was to get what you were starving for- touch (yeah, that was pretty obvious.) But if he were to do that, it would hurt. Only for a little bit, if the doctor was telling the truth, but still.

At the risk of sounding pathetic, he was really bloody tired of pain.

Still, the problem would only get worse as time went on and, try as he might, he couldn’t avoid touching Raisa forever. So, after a few days of agonizing over his decision and changing his mind nearly twenty times, he forced himself to tell Raisa everything.

“Rai?” He took a deep breath, and then another, and sat on her bed. She glanced over from her desk. “Can I talk to you?”

If only his old gang could see him now. The infamous Cuffs Allister, silver-tongued sweet-talker, reduced to fidgeting and staring at the carpet.

“Of course.” She walked over and sat next to him. Her hands twitched as if she wanted to take his, but she seemed to think better of it.

So he reached out and took them.

Her eyebrows raised and her eyes- her beautiful, beautiful eyes- widened. The fire exploded in his chest, burning so badly he clenched his teeth. “Han? What’s wrong?”

“I’mtouchstarved!” He blurted, trying to force it out before he could change his mind again. He expected a lot of things- for her to laugh, for her to judge him, for her to roll her eyes-

The one thing he didn’t expect was the relived smile that broke out across her face and her whisper of “Thank the gods.”

For once, Han Allister was completely thrown through a loop.

“Huh? He asked intelligently, eyebrows shooting up.

“I was afraid it was something bad.” She squeezed his hands tightly. “I thought that someone had hurt you.”

Oh… When he thought about it, it was pretty obvious she had come to that conclusion. If she had known he was touch-starved, he was pretty sure that she, Hanalea bless her, would instantly try to confront the problem. In a way, he was kind of glad she’d come to the wrong conclusion. It had given him the time he’d needed to accept that he’s had this problem. “I… I want it to get better, but I don’t know how.”

Yeah, that wasn’t entirely true, but he wasn’t sure how to ask for what he wanted- what he needed. Thankfully, she seemed to understand.

“We’ll start small if you want,” she said, squeezing his hands again.

“No… I… Can you…” Words, for once in his life, were failing him. He just couldn’t make himself ask for what he desperately needed.

Like always, Raisa understood. “Do you want me to hug you?”

“... Yes please.”

She let go of his hands and, moving slowly, wrapped her surprisingly strong arms around him. His body moved forward against his will, pressing against her as much as it could, and she responded by hugging him tighter.

To his surprise, the fire… well, it didn’t exactly disappear, but it dulled.

Hanalea, this felt incredible.

“Would you like to stay with me tonight?” She asked, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

He wasn’t sure he could make himself leave if he tried. “Gods, yes.”

#the seven realms #han allister #hanson allister #raisa ana'mariana #my writing

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