Chapter Text
Corvo hadn’t liked wearing gloves, and although he donned them all the time in royal service, he flung them out at any given opportunity. His mask however, had been thrown out into the sewers right after getting Emily back. He had never liked that damned mask, and it had nothing to do with the wires and hollow eyes. It marked him as something he was not…an assassin, a murderous killer.
The reason he was here today was simple: Daud.
The red-cladded assassin had said he would leave Dunwall, and yet, after three months since sparing him, Daud remained, as did his whalers. Corvo could sometimes spot a whaler or two spying on the palace before they hurriedly blinked away under his burning glare.
So of course, at the first opportunity he had, he made his way to the Flooded District, demanding an explanation. Getting in was still easy, and as he neared Daud’s office, two whalers walked down the corridor.
“Still brooding?” One asked.
The other nodded, and sighed.
“He’s been like this ever since he murdered that Empress, and it got worse when the Royal Protector spared him.”
The whalers finally looked up, and spotted Corvo just…standing there. The two jumped, but neither screamed. They froze, and a short silence followed, with Corvo just watching them.
Neither drew their swords, and Corvo kept his hooked to his belt.
The two whalers then looked at each other, before they made a transversal away. If they had been frightened, Corvo couldn’t tell with their masks on. It didn’t feel like they were running. From experience, Corvo knew the whalers were unhesitant about fighting and protecting their master, Daud. More possibly, they were letting him go on, or maybe they wanted him to. Something about doing what the whalers wanted annoyed him, but Corvo let that slide once he thought of Daud, and how the assassin ripped his life away from him.
Up till now, Corvo didn’t know why he spared the scarred assassin. Maybe it was that sharp horror he felt as he stared into Daud’s eyes as Daud begged for his life. Corvo had felt as though he was staring at the mirror…at himself. Or maybe some part of him wanted Daud to pay, to live out his life with all that pent up guilt.
Corvo blinked into the office, ready to beat Daud’s ass (again), but instead, he found Daud sitting on his desk, doing (of all things)…reading.
Something about that sight irked Corvo, and anger burst to life in him. His mark flared, and mid-growl, he had pulled Daud up and slammed the older man on the ground. Daud made no sound of pain, and he looked at Corvo with faint surprise.
“Attano.” He greeted serenely, as though welcoming him. As though Corvo was just a guest, and wasn’t, well, the man who just knocked him to the ground.
“Daud.” Corvo returned, eyes narrowing.
“What brings you here, bodyguard?”
“You said you would leave.”
Daud considered Corvo for a moment, unperturbed by Corvo’s grip around his neck.
“I have nowhere to go.” He finally said, his eyes falling off Corvo’s. His gravely voice was unusually soft, and Corvo’s grip faltered.
Corvo glared at him, and Daud returned a cool stare. Corvo huffed, releasing Daud, not before jarring him back once in silent threat.
“Master.” Another voice interrupted.
Both Corvo and Daud whirled around to see a whaler dressed in blue. The whaler froze, and he looked to Corvo, before Daud.
“I apologise, I’ve interrupted something.” The whaler bowed, and blinked away before Daud could say anything.
“Damn him.” Corvo heard Daud mutter under his breath.
Corvo started walking around the office, flipping through a couple books, and ransacking through piles of notes as though he owned the damned place.
“What are you doing?” Daud finally questioned, when Corvo overturned a whole stack of papers.
Corvo didn’t respond, much less acknowledged Daud’s presence, and continued his search.
Irritation jabbed at Corvo the more he looked at the things in Daud’s office. No assassination offers, no letters, no incriminating blackmail material…Somehow, Corvo was disappointed, and angry.
Surely he was scheming something! Surely he was still the same assassin, he couldn’t…change. Not like this. He couldn’t be this all good. There was surely some nasty part in him that still existed. He couldn’t…shouldn’t be this…good. Corvo couldn’t forgive him, and he tipped over a stack of papers in frustration.
“Are you done destroying my office?” Daud asked. His voice was unusually flat, and from experience in court, Corvo knew it was a tone used to mask annoyance.
Corvo’s glance must have been menacing, and he overturned Daud’s table in retaliation, watching Daud’s face sour. A smirk threatened to take over Corvo’s face, but he squashed it away.
“Did you come here just to do that?” Daud’s voice was steely, and it hid his irritation well.
Corvo tore a paper up, his eyes trained on Daud’s. The last straw came when Corvo pointedly toppled over a stack of books to the floor.
Daud slammed his fist on the table, and a loud crack reverberated through the air. Daud let out a growl, and launched at Corvo.
Corvo was thrown to the floor, and he snarled, rolling to gain leverage over the red-cladded assassin. Daud wasn’t having that, and was quickly straddling the thrashing Lord Protector.
Corvo punched him in the face, and the sensation of his fist hitting Daud’s skin made a dark satisfaction blossom to life. Corvo kicked him off easily in that moment of distraction, and pummeled into Daud.
Neither drew their swords, and both were exchanging blow after blow, with increasing intensity and frustration.
Meanwhile, three whalers, Steven, Thomas and Aedan, were watching the fight unfold from the second floor.
“Are they...trying to kill each other? Should we stop them?” Steven asked.
“This is how two hot-blooded men communicate.”
“By killing each other?”
Thomas shrugged, and Steven decided to drop the subject.
Corvo called on his mark and the windblast took Daud by surprise, although he simply blinked away easily in the next moment.
“What, learnt a new party trick?” Daud snarled.
Corvo swung a jab at Daud, which Daud dodged by swerving sharply to the right.
“Well what party trick did you perform to get into Jessamine’s pants?”
That was a low blow, Daud knew that the moment he said it, but it was too late to retract it when he was this agitated. Corvo’s reaction was vehement, and Daud didn’t dodge his next punch which hit him square in the face.
Corvo charged and tackled Daud to the ground, his sword out and pressed against Daud’s bare throat. Daud didn’t say anything. He simply looked at Corvo, noticed how the bodyguard’s expression was cracked and broken, but still didn’t say anything.
Corvo let out a scream of pure agony, all the pent up frustration and anger leaking out in his pained voice, and dropped the sword to the ground. The sword collided into the ground with a metallic clank, and the only sounds remaining in the room were Corvo’s and Daud’s panting. The normally calm and quiet Lord Protector was broken, a mass of conflicting emotions that ate away at his soul like rats to a human body. And Daud still didn’t say anything. He could have mocked Corvo, baited him to throw another punch at his face, to slice his flesh open…but he didn’t. Daud just stared at the man on top of him, eyes shattered and soul torn, held together desperately by whatever fragment of determination the bodyguard could muster in this fractured state.
Corvo’s weight on him lifted, and Daud didn’t get up yet. He eyed Corvo who was kneeling on the ground sweaty and tired, seeing for the first time how deep the strain of Coldridge and Burrow’s conspiracy had set into Corvo’s face.
The tips of Corvo’s long hair were drenched, and the aches and pains were starting to hit both men hard. Neither had a problem with pain. They could probably fight all day if they could, but both were broken and too torn apart inside to do so, even if they didn’t admit it themselves.
“Get out of Dunwall.” Corvo got up, gritting his teeth. He refused to meet Daud’s gaze, even as he walked over to pick up his fallen sword. “Don’t make me come back.” Corvo finished, giving Daud a solid glare before he blinked away, leaving Daud alone in the office.
He scanned the destruction Corvo had caused in the office and let out a curse, before he started to rearrange his office. What a splendid day it was. Daud was actually getting quite interested in a book and the damned bodyguard had to come by and ruin everything.
Thomas made a transversal down, and Daud noticed Steven and Aedan on the second floor, leaning over and just watching.
“You know sir…Violence is a sign of pregnancy.” Aedan said offhandedly, and Steven snorted and bent over.
Daud gave him a dangerous scowl.
“That’s funny, because you two are now in charge of the novices for the next month or two. Or maybe the year.”
Steven ceased his laughter immediately, and that almost made Daud smirk. The two blinked away.
Thomas was silent, and he started to pick up the fallen documents from the floor.
“You don’t have to help.”
“I want to, sir.”
Daud didn’t bother arguing. Thomas was stubborn and awfully unreceptive to Daud’s shouting and tantrums. He sighed instead, and allowed Thomas to do as he pleased. Daud could still see Corvo’s haunting face, now a mess of burns and scars, staining its way to the back of Daud’s mind, just like how Jessamine’s face took root in his soul and ripped him apart. It was excruciating to regret the murder of an empress, witness the downfall of an empire, and worst of all, see first-hand how much you destroyed another person’s life. Corvo Attano, a dishonoured Royal Protector, kind even after being betrayed, gentle despite violent beatings, and most of all, honourable even in the face of a man who singlehandedly destroyed his entire world.