Chapter Text
Aloy's steps were muffled as she slowly made her way past the rows of metal-fabric hybrid tents. The warm light glowing from the oil lamps lining the dirt paths and posted by the tents gave the illusion of warmth but the night was anything but. The snow that had fallen on the roads had long melted beneath the trampling feet and rolling cart wheels of the Oseram camp dwellers, mingling with the dark earth. The snow however left its cold touch in the air, turning Aloy's cheeks and the tip of her nose pink, her breath a mist. The numbness she felt however in her legs and chest was not a result of the cool night air, but rather something else that wasn’t entirely separate from the hunter she was moving towards.
Nil.
Aloy felt herself exhale as she stopped before the tent she knew to be his. Had she been holding her breath? No, it was just the cold, she told herself. Her head felt strangely light, and she was acutely aware of her pulse, the thrumming of her heartbeat in her chest.
Nil . . .
The thought of the Carja hunter plunging into the depths after her, wrapping her in leathers and furs and himself to keep her alive.
Nil, sacrificing himself to right her wrongs.
I believe the word Jadamin was searching for was desperate.
Saravid's words echoed in her mind and suddenly Aloy felt the heat of anger. Foolish, idiotic, careless. A reckless disregard for his own life. What had he been thinking? Her hand parted the heavy fabric of the tent's opening and she half stormed, half surged into the warmth of Nil's tent.
Although almost twice the size, its setup was not unlike her own; a pit of glowing coals in the centre, flickering embers and the occasional wisp of smoke curling towards the small ventilation flap at the roof's centre. But where Aloy's tent was sparsely furnished, Nil's looked more like a storage space that had been hastily converted into a room. Wooden chests strengthened with metal brackets lined the edges in towering piles, lanterns hanging off hooks nailed directly into the wood. Crates filled with wide, rounded glass storage vessels waiting to be filled with Scrappersap or water caught the lantern light, scattering little blue and green spots of light on the tent walls. And crammed up against a disassembled cart towards the back of a tent was a cot with a half-conscious Carja sitting at its edge, tousled dark hair obscuring his face.
Aloy's lips parted as she began to speak but as he lifted his head slowly at the flurry of snowflakes and cool air that had announced her abrupt arrival, eye flicking slowly up to hers, all words and thoughts alike left her.
For a few moments, they simply stared at each other, neither uttering a word.
Nil was sitting on the edge of the cot, thick furs curled around his bare slumped shoulders and pooling around his hips where they'd slid from his back. While he too had been wrapped in dark Oseram trousers that tapered at the shins, they'd left his torso bare to better treat the angry rash that was spread across his chest like a cloud, the aftermath of coming into contact with the Glinthawk's poisonous ammo. His hands rested on the edges of the cot either side of him, as if he had been about to lift himself up. And his eyes . . .
Aloy had not fully appreciated until that moment just how much of Nil's lively energy was communicated by his shining irises. Gone was the usual vigour that illuminated his eyes like twin moons, animated every feature, radiated from him in waves of restless energy. Now, only a faded grey gazed up at her, communicating a weariness that she could feel deep within her own bones. Even his skin had lost its bronze tone, noticeably a few shades paler even in the warm glow of the lantern light. The sight of the Carja hunter so muted and washed out unsettled her more than she expected.
"You look a little worse for wear, outlander." Outlander. The word sounded strange in her mouth now. It felt like it no longer fit him, as if it was too … distant. After such an encounter, Nil felt anything but distant.
A shadow of his usual grin curved his lips before he dropped his head with a sigh. Even his usually limber movements were sluggish, heavy, as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, hands hanging limply between his knees.
"I admit, I was unprepared for such a . . . prolonged onslaught. I suppose though that is the beauty of the fight, a part of the challenge -- adapting to the unexpected. " Although he spoke through his smile, there was a waiver in Nil's cadence, a dullness to his usually sharp gaze as his eyes roamed over her. She felt a tightness in her chest as she realised that Kendert's assessment of her partner had not been an exaggeration.
Nil seemed to be watching her with an equally assessing eye.
"The alewife visited me not long before. Her silence at my question of you made me begin to worry that my efforts were in vain." Sure enough, when Aloy looked to the chest by his cot, there sat a full bottle of Scrappersap and an untouched bowl of stew, now cold. So Gera had visited Nil as well.
Unease swept through Aloy at the memory of the Oseram's stony reaction to her partnership. Aloy had had a lifetime to learn how silence could be wielded as fiercely as any words. So although Gera had not voiced her concern, Aloy did not miss her silent disapproval of her comrade. Though if Gera had similarly communicated her feelings to Nil, he'd either missed it or was untroubled by it.
Nil followed her gaze to the bottle. With a sigh, he reached over and began filling the flagon that accompanied it.
"Ah yes, the brewer left it here. Sang its praises for a while, insisted it could keep you warm during a snowstorm-"
"-and strip the grit from a gearwheel." Aloy finished for him. He smiled up at her from under his eyebrows as he continued pouring the amber liquid, giving her a questioning but amused glance that pulled at something within her.
"So they say." He tipped the bottle in her direction as an offer but she shook her head. He lifted his mug in a toast to her and winked before knocking back the flagon, draining its contents quickly. She was surprised to see his shudder as he lowered the now empty vessel. He set the Scrappersap and flagon on the far side of the chest with a grimace. A laugh bubbled out of her at the sight.
There were very few occasions she had seen such an innocent and mundane gesture from the Carja. Subtle reminders that the Carja was just as human as she was. Aloy quickly sobered at the thought that such a moment could never again have been seen or even possible had help had not come when it had. The light moment was then quickly swallowed up in the silence that fell between them.
Nil's face had lit up momentarily when his gaze returned to her at the sound of her amusement. But it too faded before long as he read the tension in her face, her posture.
"Something plagues your mind."
Aloy's laugh this time was not one of amusement.
"A few somethings." When Nil's silence beckoned her on, she moved away from the tent entrance to lean against one of the support beams. She sighed as she let her head fall back against the wood.
"I can't count how many times I've nearly died in battle. If I was just a moment too slow to roll out of the way, if I'd rolled a few hairs too short or too far, if I hesitated even half a second longer before releasing an arrow. Even scaling a Tallneck or mountain trail, just a single slip and it would be all over. Sometimes it feels like my day's incomplete unless my life has been in danger at least once. I've barely given any of those instances a second thought, let alone lost any sleep over it.
"But this? It's like I can still feel the ice of the water." She breathed in deeply to fill her lungs with the night air, relishing in the heat flowing into her from the coals. "And like I can’t get enough air still. Like my heart is working twice as hard." She dropped her head to see that Nil was watching her thoughtfully. His weariness made her wonder whether he was feeling the same way.
"Such a close encounter with death does often have that effect. Such an intoxicating affair, balancing on the fine line between death and truly living. But it is another thing to be thrown over the edge, only to be caught before you hit the bottom."
A frown creased Aloy's brow.
"You speak as if you didn't almost freeze to death as well, Nil."
Nil simply shrugged. "A small but necessary risk. The price is never too steep when you're willing to pay."
Her frown deepened as she shook her head incredulously.
"Nil, do you understand that if Gera and Kendert hadn't found us when they did, you would have frozen out there? You as good as condemned yourself by following me into that lake. I hardly think that constitutes a 'small' anything."
The Carja's brow furrowed. "We are partners, are we not?"
"That's not the point!" Something flashed across his face at her words but she kept going. She pushed off the beam, her fists clenching. "I made mistakes Nil, I was careless. If I was to face the consequences of my actions, I was to face them alone. If that means that I don't survive then … so be it." She swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "Endangering yourself to save me was reckless."
That was the way of things. Rost knew it when he stepped back to let her face her first Sawtooth alone to prove she was ready. Even Talanah knew it as she had watched Aloy defend herself against the horde of Snapmaws and scavenging Carja all those months ago. A warrior that could not defend themselves, that was incapable of making the right decisions even in the heat of battle would not survive in this world. Mistakes were not without consequence and even the strongest and most experienced warriors had to suffer those consequences. Even if it kills them, Aloy thought as heat spiked behind her eyes and within her chest. And for a moment, she was back on that snowy ledge, staring into Rost's fading eyes as he held her. Moments before he pushed her free. Moments before he told her to survive. Too many had fallen for her. Too many weighed on her shoulders.
As it threatened to choke her, Nil's quiet reply brought her back, cutting easily through the tension in the air.
"I couldn't do nothing, Aloy."
"You could have died Nil!" The words tore from her throat with the weight of all those who sacrificed themselves for her. But the Carja was unflinching.
"So could you." He said evenly, with such simplicity that it should have enraged her. But instead, Aloy felt the heat of her anger dissipate, the heaving breaths in her chest slowing.
Because from the moment she had entered his tent, Nil's gaze had barely stopped roaming over her living, breathing form. Despite his exhaustion, he was staring at her with such intensity, as if she would sink right into the dark earth beneath them, slipping right through his fingers if he took his eyes off her.
For his own life, perhaps. But for the life of another...
Through the openness of his expression Nil was showing her something more raw and much deeper than an unwavering loyalty to her. And for the second time that night, Aloy felt as if the air was being forced from her lungs.
Nil's gaze flickered to her clenched fist at the same time Aloy became aware of a wet warmth trickling over her fingers.
"You're bleeding." He rose slowly to his feet, crossing the room to her. Aloy said nothing as he gently took her hand, easing her fingers open with his own. The cut on her palm had reopened, blood pooling in her palm and dripping onto the dirt floor. She let him lead her to a small wash basin that had been set up in the corner. Bandages and ointments leftover from the treatment of Nil's own wounds had been left by the tarnished metal bowl.
Without a word, Nil set to carefully cleaning and dressing her wound. Aloy watched silently, wondering at how his hands, capable of such violence and destruction now handled her with such care. She tried not to dwell on what it meant that the slightest brush of his fingertips over her skin sent a current through her entire arm, how quickly her breaths became synchronised with his. She tried not to let herself stiffen at the memory of his body pressed against hers to keep her warm. The way she continued to feel his touch even after he pulled away, like an imprint on her skin. The way her body seemed to remember the feel of him, anticipating his touch.
Trying to look anywhere at his face as he finished tying the bandage around her palm, she let her eyes drop to his chest.
This close she could see the light sheen of the freeze rime root oil they'd used to treat the chillwater rash across his chest, smell the fresh, cool scent on his skin. She lifted her fingers to his skin, feeling the slip of the oil under her fingertips. Feeling the warmth of his skin.
As if coming out of a trance, Aloy lifted her gaze to see that Nil was watching her silently. He had finished tying the bandage but had not made a move to step away. They were standing so close that she could feel his exhale against her skin.
Nil's voice was a low rumble as his lips parted. "I could not bear to see your fire burned out at the bottom of a lake, Aloy." She had not realised that he had not let go of her hand until she felt a gentle squeeze on her wrist.
His gaze dropped to her neck as his other hand brushed over her skin, moving over her scar as he had at Sun's Blessing. Aloy felt herself exhale and Nil gently tilted her face to his. "I could not let death take you."
When he finally flicked his gaze back to hers, Aloy felt herself waiver. Looking down at her as he was, the colour of his eyes a muted grey, she could see the same pit of loneliness within him as she felt within herself. She could see the unspoken words written in the openness of his expression, the way his body curled towards her. The ache in her gut spread to her chest.
And so, taking an unsteady step down the path that he had opened with her, Aloy placed her uninjured hand over the hand he had on her neck, moving his thumb to where she knew her pulse thundered. Then she spun her wrapped hand around so she was holding him, and guided his palm to her chest, above her heartbeat.
Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke.
"I'm still here, Nil." She let herself inch forward, shortening the gap between them. "I'm not going anywhere."
Nil said nothing but she knew her words sank deep as he moved into the space between them, bringing his forehead to hers, his nose bumping against hers, and she felt his exhale, a lightness everywhere they touched. And with it, Aloy felt the yawning pit within herself begin to shrink, infinitesimally. With a slow, shaking breath, she closed her eyes and finally let herself relax into his touch.
She did not know how long they stayed pressed together like that but it felt too soon before exhaustion began to pull at her limbs and eyelids. She hadn’t realised she had swayed until she felt Nil's grip on her tighten, the faintest brush of his mouth. He shifted ever so slightly, his nose sliding against hers briefly before his mouth was at her ear.
"Rest with me."
A hot spike jolted through her that momentarily chased away the heaviness in her bones. It was quickly replaced by the unwelcome chill of the air as Nil moved away from her. He pulled the mountain of furs and blankets from the cot onto the space of flat earth between the coal pit and the cot. He sank down into the furs first, laying on his back, a hand beneath his head, the other sitting atop his stomach. When she slid down beside him leaving a small gap between them, he did not beckon her closer or fit himself into the spaces around her and she was grateful for it.
The glowing coals in the pit still emanated waves of heat, although the bite of the night air was slowly seeping in. And so she shuffled further from the pit and closer to her partner, rolling onto her other side to let her back press into the warmth of his arm and side. For a tense moment she thought he was going to roll onto his side to pull her closer, but he simply shifted to allow more of his torso to press into her curved back, giving her more of his warmth.
Aloy pulled a dark pelt closer around her and watched the slowly smouldering coals, their soft pulsing glows mimicking her slowing heartbeat. Falling quickly into sleep's embrace, the last thing she remembered was a shifting behind her, a warm cloud of air on the back of her neck, and the low rumble of Nil's voice.