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If someone had told Aloy that she would, one day, fall deeply and unequivocally in love with another, she would have hit them with her spear. Not that anyone would have spoken to her, but that point was moot. If, per say, this fictional individual also happened to mention that she would fall for a bloodthirsty Carja – one that had fought in the Red Raids, no less – she would have instead stabbed them with her spear. Not fatally, of course, but just enough to make her point very, very clear.
Yet here she was, in the presence of that very same Carja. In his shelter, far east of what had once been Las Vegas. Having a meal with him. And it wasn’t for the first time.
Nil was leaning over his cooking pot, observing the stew simmering inside. The firelight cast flickering shadows over the features of his strong and angular face, as hidden as they were beneath the Tenakth face paint that he wore. Beyond him the world was dark and quiet as, several hours earlier, the sky had filled with clouds so thick that the moon had absolutely no hope of shining its reflected light through them. A quick flash of optic blue was enough to tell her that both of their Chargers remained on guard beyond the ruin of what had once been a plane. The ruin that Nil called his own.
He turned to look at her with a soft smile on his face, his machine metal silver eyes creasing at the corners, before he returned to his work. But that one quick glance was more than enough for Aloy to feel comfortably at ease with the darkness around them, with the stillness.
She should not be here, not really. Aloy still had so much work to do. The Zeniths were gone, but they had left something so much more dangerous in their wake. And then there was Hephaestus, still out there in the cauldron network, creating new and more dangerous machines day by day.
But Nil, in his Red Teeth garb, and his young squad of rowdy Tenakth teenagers, had found her as she travelled around the outskirts of Hidden Ember, hunting and fighting a new machine that closely resembled the scorpions of the desert. They had come to her aid without a second thought, distracting the machine, the Stingshriek, so that she could get in close to reach the small and sensitive spot on its underbelly. When the machine was finally felled, and Aloy was utterly exhausted, Nil and his squad had helped her to tear away the machine’s ridiculously thick armour so that she could reach the components that she needed.
Nil had led her away from the killing ground shortly afterwards, commanding the teens to return to their Hidden Ember shelters that Morlund had built for them. Together they watched as the children bolted away on their mounts, cheering and shouting amongst themselves. Once they were out of sight, she and Nil had mounted their own Chargers and rode to his private shelter in the mountains.
And so here they were, sharing a meal as they had so many times during their days of bandit hunting, but this time they were in the comfort of a real shelter, and not at the mercy of the wilds or the attempted attacks of revenge driven bandits.
Aloy realised that she had become stuck in her own thoughts when a firm, raised voice broke her from her reverie, and her vision focused on the steaming bowl of stew that was being held tantalisingly close to her face.
“Here, partner,” Nil’s voice was no longer hard, but instead soft and barely a whisper.
She took the warm bowl with a quick thank you, hoping beyond hope that their fingers would graze, but came away disappointed. Nil remained oblivious to her internal plight as he did nothing but smile pleasantly down at her, before he took a seat across from her and placed his bowl on the small table he had built.
Their meal led to conversation about Nil’s squad, about how proud he was that Josekk had come so close to finally besting him on the track, and how they had taken down not one - but two – Slaughterspines that had taken up residence at the Cliffs of the Cry. Aloy listened with a smile on her lips the whole time, watching as his expressive face and hands told the tale in detail, the troubles of the world – her troubles – melting away.
Aloy wasn’t sure when she had fallen so deeply in love with Nil, or what it was that had finally tipped her over the edge; was it his voice and the way he beautifully framed his words – even during those times when the words had been little more than murder poetry? Was it his handsome looks and strong, sculpted body? Or was it that he respected her, but did not hold her up on a pedestal like so many others? That he respected her autonomy?
No, she was not sure. She had become vaguely aware of these feelings in the Sundom, but she was unsure of the moment they had they evolved into such a staggering, overpowering sensation that both knocked her to ground and stole her breath, whilst simultaneously lifting her to great heights and filling her lungs with clean and crisp air.
And why, why could she not force herself to be unfeeling, to become numb to this horribly crippling sensation? Because she loved Nil, she truly, unquestionably did.
But he didn’t love her.
Aloy knew that he saw her as a hunting and a racing partner, and perhaps he even saw her as a friend, but he clearly saw her as very little else; his eyes didn’t burn with that fire that she felt when she looked at him, and whilst she often moved into his space, to be close to him, he remained away from hers. Just as he always had. A respectable distance, some would say.
Aloy wasn’t the kind of woman anyone desired or wanted. Even Avad, she knew, didn’t truly care for her in that manner – he was still hurting from his loss of Ersa and saw in her someone who reminded him so much of his lost love. No, Aloy was, and always would be, a friend to many and a love to no one.
Perhaps it was for the best: she wasn’t even sure what she would need to do in a relationship anyway. That was something that Rost had never taught her.
With their meal finished, Nil searched his stash for some bottles of Oseram ale. Aloy eyed the bottles warily, having had a terrible hangover the last time she had touched the stuff. She groaned as Nil mentioned that he had heard of this little story from Stemmur, as she had been drinking with Erend at the time. Why she had thought she could best her well-trained friend, she had no idea. Sometimes, she was too competitive for her own good.
But Nil did not judge. He did laugh, but he passed no judgement. Instead, he encouraged her to drink until she felt at ease, pushing two bottles across the table towards her.
“You are wound as tight as a bowstring, Aloy,” he noted, his face suddenly becoming serious. “Even the children noticed, and their observational skills are meagre at best.”
Aloy snorted. “Weren’t you just singing their praises?”
“I will give praise where praise is due, and in that area, my praise is not forthcoming.” Nil smirked, taking a swig from his bottle. “Recently, both Pekka and Elottak charged headfirst into an obviously placed tripwire – a remnant from the rebels, I would assume – and the others decided to follow, to lend their aid.” He looked at her then, clearly exasperated. “You can imagine how that particular scenario ended.”
“In a pile of Chargers and confused Tenakth?”
His lips thinned, and he nodded.
“Okay. Fair enough.” Aloy nodded.
Nil took another mouthful of ale before placing the bottle on the table. He levelled her with his unwavering gaze, and Aloy felt heat creep up her neck and into her cheeks.
“But you are changing the subject.” He gestured at her. “The tension you are carrying is obvious, more so than it has been during our last few meetings, our races.”
Aloy chewed the inside of her cheek, suddenly feeling uneasy.
Nil frowned, his eyes full of concern. “Can I help at all? We are partners, after all.”
In truth, Aloy had already thought about this. Nil, working alongside her once again, facing off against unknowable odds to protect life on earth. Together. But then images of his lifeless body would haunt her, or she would hear the arguments as Kotallo and Zo demanded to know why a Red Raider’s presence on their team was necessary.
It hurt, but she shook her head, doing her very best to ignore the hurt that flashed across his face. It was a look so alike to the one he had given her on that damned mesa, when she had refused to fight him. Her heart ached; Aloy didn’t want him to hurt. She had to put him at ease.
“Nil, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but what I’m doing… it’s hard to explain.” She looked to him imploringly, noting that his face was suddenly plain. “There isn’t an enemy to fight, at least not yet, and maybe there never will be. It’s something intangible, something…” She made a little punched out huff, looking to her hands where she fidgeted with her nails. She couldn’t even begin to describe Nemesis, not when she knew so little about it herself.
In the corner of her vision, Aloy saw another bottle slide into view, and Nil’s soothing voice quickly followed.
“Then please, Aloy, just rest for one night. Ease your burdens.”
The concern in his voice caught the air in her lungs. Did that mean he did see her as a friend? A sad smile crossed her face. Even if he didn’t love her, at least she could call him a friend. She would have to make peace with that.
Her eyes raised to the bottles, and then to Nil’s worried face. She took one of the bottles in hand and raised it to her lips, sipping at the bitter liquid.
For his sake, she would try to relax.
Minutes passed, or at least she thought they were minutes? Hours, perhaps? No. No… Something in between. Yeah, that. Minhour. There. Aloy had made a new measurement of time. She was very clever.
From her position, laid half on the table, she reached out for another bottle. But then the bottle moved, escaping her clutches. Strange. Bottles don’t move. Ohhh, machine bottles! Cursed machine bottles, stealing her drink!
A chuckle echoed in her skull, and it sounded so nice. She liked that voice.
“I think you’ve had enough, partner.”
“Nah!” Aloy cried, flailing her arm. There had to be another machine bottle somewhere. She’d catch it. She was a good hunter.
“Yes, you have definitely had enough.”
Aloy looked up, and found Nil – beautiful, stupid, handsome Nil, how dare he be so nice? – smiling at her. He was holding the bottles in his hands. No! He had caught the machine bottles first!
“Aw! I was gonna get them,” she waved her hand at the glasses that he held. “Damn machine bottles, stealing my ale.”
Nil’s eyebrow quirked, and his smile grew larger. “Machine… bottles?”
“Yeah! You didn’t see how that one ran away from me?”
Nil snorted.
“I’ll catch them. I’ll get my drink.” Her head slumped to the table, hair falling around her face. Why was her hair so long? It could get caught in something, or grabbed? She giggled. Heh. Grabbed. Such a funny word.
“I think you need to sleep this off, Aloy.”
“No, no sleep! Only hunt!” Her voice was muffled by her hair.
He barked a laugh. “Normally I would agree, but you have drunk three bottles of the weakest ale known to man, and this is the state they have left you in.”
“But I’ve only been drinking for…” She paused. Why was thinking hard? “Minhours.”
She finally lifted her head and found Nil holding his lips in a tight line, but his eyes (such pretty eyes) crinkled in the corners and his shoulders were shaking. Was he cold? She should warm him up. She couldn’t let her Nil catch a chill.
Rising to her feet, Aloy felt herself to be in the best that she had in a while. A whoosh of air, and… oh, hello ground, how are you?
A yelp echoed around the plane, and Aloy blinked. Who was that? Was it her? No, she was too busy laughing at herself. She could hear bottles – those damnable, drink thieving, things – roll away, and a shadow fell over her. Huh, where did the light go?
“Aloy?”
She giggled. “Hello floor.”
A sigh, a pause, and then “I’m going to touch you. Is that okay?”
“Hm?”
“Aloy, please, try to concentrate.”
With a great deal of effort, Aloy turned to look up at the shadow above and found Nil kneeling over her. From this distance she could smell him – machine oil, fresh desert air, something… citrus? Fruity. Fruity Nil. She smiled. He smelled so nice. He was nice. She loved him.
“Aloy?” His tone was sharp this time. Why was he worried?
“Hi, Nil!”
Nil looked to the roof of the old cabin and took a deep breath.
“Did I ever tell you that I like you? Because I like you. Lots and lots.”
He froze, before he looked down to her with yet another irritatingly plain expression.
Aloy smiled up at him regardless, reaching out a hand along the floor. “You’re so kind to me. I like that.” Her eyes fell shut, her breathing nice and even. “And you’re fun. And you make really nice food.”
She was moving, rising slowly, and a warmth grew at her back.
“I’m really happy when you’re around, Nil.”
Distantly, Aloy heard a strong, sharp breath, a shudder, as she laid atop something soft. Warmth surrounded her, gently tucking itself around her frame. Her breathing slowed.
“I miss you… when you’re not…”
Something touched her hair, moving it so that she was not laid on directly on top of it, and then… the touch lingered, gently running across her scalp. It stopped, and was gone as quickly as it had begun.
No, come back! Please!
A quiet voice, cracking ever so slightly above her, wished her sweet dreams.
Darkness. Cold, empty darkness. She was alone, trapped, frozen to the bone. Her head throbbed. Then, angry purples filled her vision, the screams of her friends, of her sister, of Nil.
“Aloy!”
She tried to thrash, to fight against her invisible bonds. Too tight. Too tight! So much purple, and then red, bright burning red that filtered through her blinded eyes. It hummed with a vicious drone, louder and louder and louder.
“Aloy!”
Nil. He was hurting. He was scared. She couldn’t help him. She couldn’t even help herself. She’d failed.
She could feel tears tracking down her cheeks as Nil cried out to her again and again, as her friends, as Beta, screamed as the light burned at her flesh. She tried to claw at herself, to escape the pain, but something restrained her hands.
“Please, Aloy!”
She sobbed. “Nil…”
“Yes! I’m here! I’m here.”
“I’m sorry!” She cried, losing the strength to fight against her restraints. “I’m so sorry.”
“Aloy, it’s alright.”
“My fault. All my fault.”
The bonds on her hands loosed, and she felt fingers entwining with her own.
“Open your eyes, partner. Please.”
Aloy took a deep breath, readying herself for what would await her. She wasn’t expecting to wake up on the mattress that Nil had made for himself, her eyes blinking against the very dim light of a very early sunrise. A thick blanket that had been laid over her, protecting her from the chill of the air, was now a tangled mess around her. And before her, on his knees, was Nil. He wore nothing but his green shorts, and the face paint had been washed away. Her hands were resting on his knees, where his fingers mingled with hers. In the murky light, she could see the deep concern in the lines of his face. The exhaustion.
Doing her best to move in the messy cocoon that she had created, Aloy felt how her skin was slick with sweat and she shivered.
Nil released her fingers – and the emptiness that followed was painful – helping her to sit up, holding her as she held out a hand as the world span around her. He head screamed at her, throbbing in anger. Whilst she was still, Nil removed the blanket from where it was wrapped around her waist and her legs. Once she was free, however, he instructed her to lay down once again, and he draped the material over her.
He forced a smile as he spoke, tucking the blanket so that it would keep her warm, but not become too tight. “I have dark dreams too.”
Aloy watched as he moved away, returning to his damned respectful distance. Her heart yearned for the closeness. The heat of his body. His smell. His touch.
He stood, offering her a weak smile. “Try to go back to sleep. You need it.” He whispered as he turned on his heel, moving towards the table.
No. No, she didn’t want to be alone!
“Nil?”
His slowly vanishing silhouette stopped.
“Please. I don’t want to be alone.”
Nil’s silhouette hung its head. “Aloy…”
He sounded… broken? No. No, no, no. She didn’t want him to be hurt. What had happened during the night? Had she hurt him? A thrill of terror ran up her spine, stabbing at her like ice. Had she said something? Why couldn’t she remember anything but… yes, the meal. She remembered most of that. But what happened after that?
A pause, building her courage. “What did I do?”
Nil said nothing, but his broken sigh spoke in volumes to her.
“Did I hurt you?” She keened. More panic flooded her body. No, she didn’t want to hurt him! “I’m so sorry!”
A flash, and Nil had moved from the darkness and into the little light that shone in through the entrance. He was by her side in an instant, his face plagued by mixed emotions.
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t hurt me.”
“But… you’re upset. It must have been me.”
“Oh no, you are not allowed to blame yourself for this.”
Aloy’s vision swam, her head hurt, her heart ached, and all she wanted was to curl up and die for the pain she had so very obviously inflicted upon him. She didn’t deserve this man anyway. He was too good for her. She would have only abandoned him, left him behind the very second she thought he might be slowing down her life-saving work. He deserved someone who hadn’t, once upon a time, thought him abhorrent and dangerous.
She had resigned herself to loneliness, to deciding that she would leave and not return for fear of hurting Nil again… But he clearly had another idea.
With deliberate movements, Nil moved to the other side of the mattress, laying himself down on the small slither of space left available to him. They lay back to back, and a thin prickle of heat was beginning to creep its way up her spine and spread out to her limbs. It was… it was perfect, or at least it would be, if not for the subtle shaking that Aloy could feel vibrating through the mattress. Was Nil shaking because of the cold, or…?
She craned her neck so that she could see and found, to her absolute horror, that he had curled in on himself, tucking himself into the tightest foetal position she had ever seen. Still uncertain if it was the chill in the air, or something that she did not quite want to imagine, Aloy did the only thing that she felt she could. Freeing herself from the blanket, she instead lifted it up and over Nil, covering as much of him as she could with it. She heard his sharp intake of breath, felt how he forced himself to still.
“Good night, Nil.” She whispered, returning to her original position and doing her level best to ignore the chill prickle of cold air on her skin. Never had she been more thankful for her Nora leathers and suedes whilst she was out in the desert.
Movement behind her startled her. She felt Nil rise from the mattress, the blanket returning to her, before he settled back down again. He had pulled the blanket from beneath him, so that they might share it. A faint smile crossed her lips, one that faltered when she heard Nil’s quiet, broken voice behind her.
“Good night, Aloy.”
What had she done?
Aloy wasn’t exactly sure when she had fallen asleep, or how she had even managed to do so. But with the rising sun greeting her eyes behind closed eyelids, Aloy remembered. Not everything, but enough; The ale, her tripping over herself as she stood, Nil’s deep concern, and –
“Did I ever tell you that I like you? Because I like you. Lots and lots.
She could clearly hear the disgust in his sharp breath as she admitted that she enjoyed his company more than he did hers.
By the All-Mother that she did not believe in, how stupid was she!?
She needed to leave. Now, and not come back. She had to avoid the tracks, avoid Hidden Ember. She couldn’t do this to herself… and she couldn’t subject Nil to any more of her foolish emotional antics. It just wouldn’t be fair to him.
And so Aloy began to rise from the mattress, or at least she would if there wasn’t something holding her in place. As her physical awareness returned to her from sleep, Aloy felt the warmth of something large against her back, over her waist, under her ribs. The smell of fresh, clean desert air, of citrus, of machine oil, flooded her senses. A steady breath continuously puffed against the shell of her ear.
Nil.
Aloy froze. Everything she wanted was right here – his touch, his smell, the heat of his body, his presence – so why was she suddenly so averse to it? Why was he doing this, if he didn’t share the feelings she felt for him? Was he even aware that he was doing this? Was he even awake?
Aloy turned her head as much as she could and found his face now so very close to hers. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep. He was asleep, and he looked peaceful. In the morning light she could see faint traces of the paint that lingered on his skin, but now there was nothing to hide his tattoos from the world. Well, her hair was trying to conceal them, at the very least.
She felt his chest expand as Nil took a deep breath, his nose burrowing into her hair and pushing her head back to its original position. His arms, one around her waist, the other beneath her, pulled her closer to him until she was all but confined against the expanse of his torso. With a curious wriggle, testing the boundaries of how adamant his grip would remain, Aloy found him rolling them over, ever so slightly, so that she was partially trapped beneath the weight of his body.
To all intents and purposes, Aloy was stuck here until Nil awoke. A situation that she wanted to enjoy, but the thought of his reaction when he roused filled her with dread and very little else.
The sun rose higher above the horizon, and Aloy remained relatively still the entire time. After a while her fears began to fade and she, rather selfishly, allowed herself to simply enjoy this moment, committing as many details as she could to her memory; his heartbeat at her back, his breath on her skin, the overwhelming mass of him, his scent. All things that she would be able to call forward in her mind when she needed comfort. The guilt at using him for her own selfish purposes gnawed at her and she forced it back down, squeezing her eyes tightly shut to fight the encroaching tears.
Nil shifted, mumbled something incoherent in her ear. Aloy grew rigid.
He was waking up.
Aloy panicked. Should she simply pretend to be asleep, to avoid an awkward confrontation? Or should she swallow her stubborn pride, and face the situation head on, just as Nil deserved. The former won. Aloy forced herself to breath deeply, evenly, and kept her eyes as closed as she could without it being obvious that she was feigning sleep.
Coward.
Nil stirred, stretching his back with a pop!, and he shuffled even closer to her than before (quite a feat, in Aloy’s opinion), nosing her hair with a content – yes, that was most definitely content – sigh.
And then, like Aloy, he froze.
She could almost hear his brain working overtime as he came to terms with their current predicament, and an almost silent, pained noise escaped him. He lifted himself on his elbow, and even with her eyes closed Aloy could feel the intensity of his gaze. For what felt like forever, Nil stayed there. What was he hoping to find? Was he trying to oust her ruse? Maybe she should have been honest, and not feigned sleep. Perhaps then neither of them would be in this situation.
But then Nil lowered himself back to the mattress, his arms loosening their vice grip on her. But he did not let her go. Instead, he shifted both of them until Aloy was partially laid atop him, just as he had been a few minutes earlier. She felt his breath ghost over her ear, his nose bury itself in her hair…
“Aloy…”
How she managed to prevent her breath from hitching in her throat, she would never know. For, in Nil’s single utterance of her name, was the deepest level of feeling Aloy had ever heard. There was so much softly-edged reverence there, and it was for her. Just her.
Did he… could he…?
Aloy felt Nil shuffle, huffing to himself, as he pushed himself away from her, but not before he had made sure that she was comfortable. But without his warmth, his touch, Aloy felt empty. And, as involuntary as it was, she whined.
“Aloy?”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could she be so utterly stupid!?
Well, she may as well forget her ruse. Opening her eyes, she turned so that she lay on her back. Nil was half-seated on the mattress, his eyes wide with panic.
“How long have you been awake?” His voice was uneven.
Aloy sat up, turning so she was facing him. “A while. Nil…”
“I’m sorry.”
“What?”
Nil frowned, looking altogether sheepish. “I should have not abused your trust. I should never have touched you.” He couldn’t hold her gaze, turning away, and Aloy’s heart ached for him. “Can you forgive me?”
“Nil,” her voice was soft and even, despite the tight bundle of nerves that made her want to retch. “There’s nothing to forgive. I’m the one that should be apologising – for the things I said last night, for taking advantage of our positions this morning. Yes, I was awake that long. I could have tried so much more than I did to move away from you, but I was selfish and I didn’t. So, I’m sorry.”
Nil’s gaze returned to her, his lips quirking upwards ever so slightly at the corners. The nerves in her stomach lessened at the sight.
“I’ll… I’ll go.” She breathed, making to rise. “I don’t really want to cause you any more grief than I clearly have…”
“Did you mean it?”
Aloy turned, and found Nil’s face held a faint trace of hope in it, tempered with a little trepidation, a little fear.
“Did you truly mean those words you spoke to me last night?”
“That I… enjoy your company? That I miss you when we’re apart?”
He nodded furiously.
“Yes,” Aloy smiled, her nerves ablaze. Her heart beat so fast in her chest that she could clearly hear her own pulse in her skull. “Every word. I do… I do like you. I mean, more than…”
“Will you stay?” The pleading tone in his voice was unmistakable, and it was not one that she had heard from him before. “At least until we have shared a breakfast?”
How could he not hear her heart thumping against her chest? “Yes. I’ll stay.”
Nil let out a long breath and he smiled, wide and toothy, and oh how she loved that little gap between his teeth.
Breakfast was eaten in companionable silence, with shared soft smiles and featherlight touches of hands and fingers. Words went unsaid until they both emerged into the world beyond the shelter. Both were dressed in their armour, and Nil, with his freshly painted features, held his mask in one hand as he moved to stand beside his Charger. Aloy was about to mount her own machine until Nil moved to her side, his fingers interlocking with her own.
“Please, Aloy, don’t be a stranger.”
Aloy responded with a gentle squeeze of his hand – so much bigger than her own, and yet they fit so perfectly – and an equally gentle smile. “I won’t. I promise.”
Standing on her toes, Aloy stretched until, at last, her lips brushed his cheek. His skin was so warm.
Nil huffed a disbelieving laugh, and as she lowered back to the flat of her feet, he returned the favour with a kiss to her crown.
They rode together until Nil broke away, making his way to Hidden Ember as Aloy returned to the base. With one last shared look, one full of promise, of shared feelings, Aloy travelled eastwards, the largest of grins plastered across her face.
If someone had told Aloy that she would, one day, fall deeply and undeniably in love with Nil, she would not have believed them. But she would have been very glad to have been proven wrong.