Chapter Text
Alone, or at least as close as she was going to get tonight. She could hear the lively banter from the first level even from here, hear the jeers and shouts and laughter. They had survived, defeated Hades and the Eclipse cult. They had won.
She tipped the candle in her hand, angling the wick into the small flame of an already alight candle. She had traded her battered armour for her light leathers to ready herself for rest. It had taken her almost an hour of intense scrubbing to cleanse her skin of the soot, dirt and blood using the small wash basin in the corner. By the time she had finished, the water had turned a dark brown colour, the colour staining the rag no matter how many times she tried to wring it clean.
When she'd given up Olin's apartment to a family who had lost their home in Meridian Village, Avad had offered her the comfort of one of the rooms in the palace. To his disappointment she had declined, opting for a less grand, more familiar option. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to feel the eyes of thousands boring into her, whispering her name, praising her as their saviour.
But she'd barely taken a few steps from the bridge before the Sun-King's palace when she had run into Talanah and Tufanah who wouldn't hear a word of her protests, practically dragging Aloy by either arm to the Lodge.
She'd been deposited at the bar among many of the other members and refugees who had had their homes in Meridian Village and the Maizelands razed, watching them chase the sun down with flagon after flagon of brew. It was only when Talanah had been dragged into a game of cards hours later that Aloy was able to slip away from the celebrations unnoticed and into the small room at the furthest end of the Lodge.
And so here she stood alone in her temporary dwelling in the Lodge, slowly bringing more light to the small space. She set the candle down in a ring of its own wax. It was still too early to try and rest, she was still too awake, too aware. She wondered if she could manage to sneak out for a midnight hunt. Surely they would all be too inebriated to notice or care. She glanced at her bow propped up by the bed.
"She'll face a hoard of metal demons and murderous zealots yet flee a room full of her kinsmen at the first chance she gets. I see even the machine tamer has her limits."
Aloy turned slowly, barely recognising the Carja hunter without his headdress. Nil stood before her, lingering at the threshold of the room. Cuts and bruises lined his arms in the places his armour hadn't protected him. Shrapnel wounds flecked his skin along his right side, across his neck, jaw and cheek. He'd traded his usual vest for a plain red one without the white shell fixings or golden stitching. Without all the extra adornments, he looked like just another citizen. Less lethal, more human.
"Big crowds and drowning myself in brew aren't really my thing. I like to be able to think and see straight." She said. That earned her a smirk.
“Something we have in common Nora. Still, one cannot blame another for revelling at the idea of beating back death with one’s own hands. Each celebrates life in their own way, most prefer to do it by numbing their senses.” As he spoke, Aloy felt herself get caught on the playful gleam in his eyes, the mischievous grin he spoke through.
She thought by now, hours after she'd drove her spear through Hades' red lens, the exhaustion would have caught up with her. But the rush from the battle and fervent celebrations of those downstairs was yet to wash from her veins and she found herself silently studying the Carja hunter. She didn't need her Focus for this. The light from the candles cast slight shadows on him, accentuating the curves in his arms, the strong lines of his jaw and cheekbones. Everywhere else, his skin was bathed in a soft, warm light.
That was another stark difference between the Nora and Carja. Aloy was used to seeing . . . well to not seeing so much skin. Back in the Embrace it was much too cold for anything less than a covered torso and legs, at the very least. The only time they'd strip off their layers was to bathe or to sleep. Even then they were never bare for longer than they needed nor more than they needed to be. But the Carja wore garments fashioned to expose their skin to the sun and the admiration of others. Exposed midriffs and arms, chests even for the men. Men like the one leaning lazily against her doorway.
She found herself following the line that ran down the middle of his chest then split off to outline the muscles in his abdomen. A sudden, strange restlessness made her palms and fingertips tingle. The motion of him crossing his arms snapped her out of her trance. She shifted her wandering eyes away from him, readjusted her position against the bedside chest.
If he'd noticed her ogling of him, he didn't show it. He wasn't even looking at her but rather glancing at one of the bandages on his arm that was already beginning to fray. Then she realised he hadn’t stopped talking.
"-I suspect I won't find much to the South. The North may be more promising but something tells me that any vagrant Shadow Carja might find themselves drawn back to Sunfall."
"The last time I was at Sunfall I had people cheering for my death." Aloy said bitterly. There was that lopsided grin again.
"Another thing we seem to share in common. Which is why I'd thought I'd leave my regards before departing." The Nora straightened, frowning.
"You're not staying?" She wasn't surprised but she couldn't help the sinking feeling in her gut.
"It is one thing to fight alongside a man as his brother in combat but it is another to share his roof." Came his reply. She had to admit, it was a strange sight seeing him within an enclosed space. It looked unnatural, like seeing a caged animal. At times she felt the same.
"You think there will be much trouble from the remaining Shadow Carja?" She said.
He shrugged with his good shoulder. "I don't doubt the vermin will come crawling out of the cracks of the world, eager to fill the void the derangement and violence left behind. It's just the natural way of things. When they do, I'll be waiting."
"You're heading out tonight?" She said but he shook his head.
"Not tonight. I'll return to my camp to regather my resources and take wing tomorrow morning."
She remembered the gruelling climb up to the mesa at his request, how she'd had to lunge and reach at full stretch for each handhold. Even in full health and well rested, her muscles had burned by the end of it.
"You should stay here tonight. Allow yourself time to recover." She suggested. He shook it off.
"A hawk does not rest after a hunt when it knows more rats are lying in hiding."
She sighed. At times talking to him was like trying to clutch water.
"Nil you're injured, you've just fought off a threat to the entire existence of our world." She pushed herself off the chest, calculating the number of beds and refugees the Lodge was currently holding. "We could make room for you. I’d let you stay." One quick glance at the room though told her it would likely be an uncomfortable set-up. Even him standing at the door, the room already felt crowded.
She didn't know why she fought him on the matter. She understood as well as anyone the need to be away from the commotion. If she had her way she would have set up her own camp beneath the stars. She'd never really understood the notion of company other than for collaboration in hunts and combat. But suddenly Nil's presence was a welcome one and she thought that maybe she didn’t want to be alone after all.
"She lets her guard down too quickly tonight." He commented.
She noted that he had not made a move to enter the room since appearing.
"Why, is there some reason I shouldn't trust you to keep to yourself?" She laughed, trying and likely failing to come off as sardonic. Nil's expression told her he thought it otherwise.
"I'd never take advantage of you, Aloy. It's not for me to share your bed." He said.
Something became alight inside her. As he’d said, most people channelled the relief and thrill of victory through bumping flagons with each other, gambling away their shards or trading banter and fists. But she’d heard as well that it was common to seek the comfort of another’s presence in more private and intimate ways.
She tried to swallow down the feeling of her heart in her throat. She willed her voice not to betray her when she spoke.
"What if I asked you to?"
He had had his silver eyes turned to the candles flickering beside him but at her words he lifted his head to meet her gaze.
He said nothing, his face betraying no feelings. She tried to read him but she couldn't tell what he was thinking.
That was the thing with him. In the heat of battle she could read his mind as clearly as if it was her own, anticipating and complementing his movements without a word spoken between them. As soon as her last arrow flew though and he tucked his knife back into its sheath, half the time still slick with blood, it was like blowing out all the candles.
Complete darkness.
He moved smoothly across the room until he stood before her, metallic eyes holding hers.
"Is that what you want?" He said quietly.
She knew he was tall, big, but standing so close together like they were now with his eyes swallowing her up, she never felt smaller. Was he trying to intimidate her? Test her? Either way, she would not yield. She set her jaw and held his gaze defiantly. He should have realised by know that nothing could scare her into submission, not even his bloodlust or complete mysteriousness. If anything, it intrigued her even more. She couldn't deny though that he made her nervous. Made her nerves comes alive like sparking wires.
He broke eye contact first, gaze slowly moving down her face, her neck, to her chest.
His fingers, long and thin, traced the red stitching of the long piece of fabric that hung down her front. As he reached the part that draped before her middle, he suddenly clenched the fabric in his fist and pulled her forward. He took half a step to meet her as she lurched forward and she had to put her hands out to stop herself from colliding with him, one hand on his upper arm, the other on his ribs. She saw something blazing in his eyes but she wasn't sure what it was. His voice was low, soft when he spoke, his breath warm on her face.
"You know how we work. I wait for your mark, you need only give it." Her mouth fell open in hesitation as she struggled to process her situation, to find the right words but no words would come. She was overwhelmed by his closeness, how warm and sturdy he felt beneath her palms. She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or a trick of the light but his eyes had softened to a smoky brown.
Her time was up.
He withdrew from her, releasing his grip on her shirt. He gave her one last up and down sweep before turning to take his leave.
"Sweet dreams, Aloy." He threw over his shoulder, and Aloy swore she caught the end of a smirk before he disappeared.
With his departure she suddenly exhaled, her tense muscles finally relaxing. But she didn't feel the relief normally associated with such a motion. Instead, her heart pounded just the same and something like disappointment weighed down her shoulders.
What had just happened?
She shook her head. Ran trembling fingers through her hair. Why did he affect her so, all of a sudden?
Nil was by no means a simple man. Maybe that was why she felt such an intense attraction to him, like a scrapper to downed machinery. Except she didn't want to break him apart to recycle; she wanted to know what metal he was made of, unravel the mechanisms of his mind. She crawled onto her cot, not bothering to blow out the candles. She laid her head down and closed her eyes, his words echoing in her head.
"I wait for your mark, you need only give it."