Chapter Text
Of all the bad decisions to find in the west, it had to be this guy.
Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? She had checked for a pulse, right?
She had confirmed the kill when he gurgled out his final words. Yes. She was sure of it. Positive. That would have been a rookie mistake, she thought, going over the events again as best as she could. So much had passed since then, it’s hard to remember the finer details. It felt like a lifetime ago, on that mesa. She had closed his eyes after they rolled back into his head, a mercy others who fell below her spear were not privileged to. There was no flutter of breath beneath her fingers, no death rattle, just silence. Even the mesa hushed. Void of its natural sounds.
It had started as such a beautiful day too. She remembered feeling…excited. She remembered looking forward to their meet up, her curiosity sparked, but then- No. Best not to dwell.
She was sure he was gone when she riffled through his pockets. It was awkward enough, but loot is loot. She found nothing of his former self to support the vague snippets he had given her. Only a handful of shards and some slagshine glass to show for his life and she hawked it for braided wire. He was supposed to take his secrets and their time together to his grave. That’s how that worked. Not that anyone would believe him anyway. She, the exalted savior lofted above on the gilded wings of the ten and he…that, she wasn't so sure.
She didn’t believe in spirits. This made absolutely no sense-but, here he was. She was just so tired. She probably should have sat this one out, but the speed and the fight was intoxicating. She'll rest later. That’s it. This is just a desert dream. There’s no way come sun or shadow that-
“How are you even here?” She demanded, the adrenaline from the race still on her. He smirked, his steel eyes alight with mischief.
“I won’t bore you with the details-” and then started monologuing. By chance or fate he didn’t die. Always able to survive impossible odds.
I’ll just have to kill him again, she thought smugly, the corners of her lips turning up in a secret smile as he went on about Meridian being too safe for his liking. “We killed bandits together Nil, for different reasons. I’m not sure we were partners-” she tutted but he interrupted her.
“I am. Now more than ever. Especially since we’ve moved on to something even more.. entertaining.” He drawled, pausing on entertaining. It was direct and there was spark behind those words that made her ears burn in the desert twilight.
She still didn’t trust what she was seeing. A mirage brought on from one too many sleepless nights, conjuring the visage of her old dead partner? But, she had called him by that name and he didn’t deny it. This…ghost before her was the last person she expected Red Teeth to be. He was a shadow of the man she knew, carried himself differently, was it that restraint he had now? His silver eyes the only tell tale sign that that man had ever existed. All the people she had met in her travels and no one* had those eyes, she was sure of it. Even his watcher tattoos were missing. Which led to the only logical conclusion that he was a liar or had never died to begin with. Some force, some higher power had allowed this. Why?
Nil continued to bore into her. Each word trying to crack her train of thought. She wasn’t listening and he didn’t care. She allowed herself the indulgence of looking him over as she heard herself ask about his new hobby. He had bulked up since their last encounter. Eating the meat on meat meals of the Tenakth would do that to a person. His hair was…growing out, in places she hadn’t noticed before. Her eyes raked down his chest, his stomach and below his navel-She felt her face start to give her away with its flash of warmth again. He looks…good and at least he’s found an outlet that doesn’t include being a menace to the living. He had lost his Carja armor for what appeared to be armor favored by Scalding Spear sentries and had mimicked their face paint in his own way. He probably killed one of Yarra’s men and stole their armor, she begrudgingly thought.
“-All the blood my bow could handle. And it did.” His face lit up as he recalled his earlier escapades.
Yep. Murder it was. He seems so proud of himself considering he half assed this disguise. He lacks Tenakth tattoos and body paint so, who is he really fooling? She cast her glance over his bare arms and chest again. At least she tried to adopt the local customs when she painted her arms. These kids might have been stupid to side with Regalla but they aren’t that stupid. They know he isn’t Tenakth. From what she had seen in the clan lands any feat deserved to be recorded on skin and here he was as bare as he was Carja. If they did believe it, they either thought he was ink shy or a complete featless loser.
“-You know, you could always join us,”Nil suggested, breaking her thoughts and bringing her back, “live without the restraints of whatever narrow path you’ve carved out for yourself these days.”
This isn’t the first offer he’s put on the table for her and she feels in the deep recesses of her heart of hearts, it won’t be the last. It’s tempting and for a moment she allows herself to see the possibility of that carefree life. To live without the restraints and confines of her crushing responsibilities. To not be the embodiment of Elisabet’s legacy. To have hobbies, to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, to hold people closer. But, all the things she knows, all the data to sort....she’s just so tired. Maybe I just need to sleep on it and come back another -Her brain makes that decision for her and the words of decline spill out,
“Thank you for the offer but I think I’m good.”
Nil sighed, airing on disappointment, “As expected. But you can always find me on the track if you need a release. And I promise to never go easy on you.” He winks at her knowingly.
Never go easy on me-I’m going to ride this man into the dirt. That’ll shut him up, she decides. Her breath hitches. She feels the familiar wave of panic that she’s footfalls away from a tripwire she missed. She tries to shrug it off and ends up giving him an awkward thumbs up. A thumbs up? What the hell are you doing, Aloy? She fights with herself. He peers at her, his half smile breaking as he’s about to say something when one of the “children” interrupts,
“Hey Red Teeth! Quick hogging her.” Haxx. Followed by Josekk and Attah.
Nil quickly puts the mask on and turns from them. Their reunion concludes prematurely, there’s things left unsaid. She’s Fresh Meat again and he’s Red Teeth. He bids her a farewell, her name whispered out with-what was that? Longing? No, that would be stupid. It’s not like that. Not after the mesa. She almost missed it, but she did hear it and it did…something, like the way his eyes flicked over her, taking a last look. A quick electric start to her heart-flutters and her stomach flips. “Aloy” and the hairs on her neck stand on end, shivers in a-What the hell was that about? No. It’s this damn desert heat. Dry and suffocating. I’m so tired, I’m imagining…feelings, she scolds herself. That tiny voice sneaks in again on the breath of the desert, But-It could be like that, if you wanted it to be.
Haxx is asking her something and she puts her hands up, making an excuse. She looks over her shoulder briefly and Nil’s gone. Crept back to whatever hole he crawled out of. The “children '', he mockingly called them, but they’d really be her peers in a different life even though she feels ages older, are discussing celebrating into the night. Someone suggests haggling some booze from the Oseram, someone else says they’re full of it.
What was it he called her life? The narrow path she had cut for herself? Didn’t leave too much room for anyone else even though everyone wanted to help now. Some actually proved they could. Some were content barging through her narrow path forcing it wider for another set of feet. That-that wasn’t the issue. She knew they could, she trusted her allies; her friends and her…family. Those were new words to chew on. It had always been Just Aloy. The only constant companion had been ripped away from her when she was at her lowest, when she couldn’t fight back and the other, had wanted to kill her. A simple “I think we should part ways now” would have sufficed. But it was always one extreme or another, right? Never any middle ground-
She heard herself say her own farewells and felt her feet move in the direction of Hidden Ember. Erend was there. They had plans to meet. They were going to catch up, talk about the mission, share a drink probably. Nemesis is coming. They have to prepare. They need more allies- more friends . There was just so much. There was never a break. The components for that frying pan are still out there. All that data from the Zenith ship needs to be sorted. Nemesis is coming. Beta is learning to fly a Sunwing. They all need to learn. Have to get those overrides fixed. Have to get an overrider to Hekarro-What about Hephaestus? How are we going to trap Hephaestus this time? If Sylens leaves his laundry in the machine again I swear to Gaia-What game is he playing at? There was never a good night’s sleep at the end of the day when you were shouldering the knowing. She chewed on a nail for a moment, lost in the worries. All the things she had to do-
“ You could always just join us.” Nil’s words came back, in the melodic cryptic way that he speaks, “ Like a call to your inner desires .” Her stomach flipped again and she says out loud to herself bitterly, “As if I could just do anything.” Don’t let him get to you Aloy, that’s what he wants, she warns herself but- A quick race here and there won’t hurt anything. Think of it as networking. We need all the allies we can get. Nil’s capable at least and surprise, not dead. Impossible odds seem to be his thing.
So engrossed in the worries and not paying attention to the direction she was now going, she almost walked into the local Behemoth convoy. She ducked into a ruin just in time without setting off it’s ravager guard’s alarm. Still as sand on the moonless night. Good things come to those who lie in wait- the ghost of a memory. A heart beat later,
“There’s danger ahead girl,” the velvety voice of the darkness said in her ear. Damnit. Surprised but she smiled despite herself. She looked around the ruin. No one. Nothing but rubble, rusted beams and whatever secrets the sand held.
“Danger for you outlander,” she replies to the night, just above a whisper. “What are you doing Nil, watching me?”asked to the ruins. The lights of Hidden Ember gave some illumination however not much. It was the night of the dark moon after all. A night of spirits-if she believed that. There was a tease in her voice that she hadn’t meant to allow. She had left an opening, her guard down lost in her thoughts, and this could end one of two ways.
“What are you doing Aloy, looking for me? I thought you were leaving.” He emerged from the shadows in front of her only a hair's breadth away as if night bore him and looked down at her with a bit of contempt. “Are you off your game tonight? No one sneaks up on Hekarro’s Champion or whatever moniker you’re going by these days,” he theorized. There’s bitterness there. He said it and she felt it, it stings. He either doesn’t notice how worn out she is or he doesn’t care. Which also stings, she realizes. They were always so good at reading each other. But that was then and this is now. They are many miles away from the Sundom.
The mask is off. In the dim lights of ancient Vegas, she can see some of his face paint, the manic spikes of red against yellow and the stark difference of neck that his scarf doesn’t hide. Of course, his eyes, shining like two cold moons in The Cut, bear into her searching. She shivered but tilted her chin to him confidently and locked him into her death stare, “You’re one to talk about monikers.”
“You wound me, Huntress.” Nil clutched his chest piece dramatically and purred, “Wouldn’t want you giving me the death eyes unless you meant it.” Flashing her a toothy grin, he knew what he was doing-trying to get a rise out of her. She felt her body flush and her heart flutter, briefly bringing her back to the Sundom and onto that mesa before- Don’t do this Aloy, don’t fall for it, she warns herself half-heartedly. But, part of her wants to fall for it again, to slip back into old habits and she realized as much as it pains her, she misses…something.
He looked away from her for just a moment, eyes darting to the right then back again. He wouldn’t have done that if he still believed her to be at all a threat. The machine patrol was still under way. Having increased security as of recently, most likely because of her and some opportunist Oseram, one Behemoth, two Ravagers, two Burrower sentries and the Glinthawks that roost above the city. Neither of them breathed, just like the old days.
We could take them or we could just -she pondered, What are you thinking, Aloy? That this could be like back east? That man is dead… Her thoughts cutting off as she scanned his face. There, under his eyes, faint, barely visible, his watcher tattoos. Not even the thick black corpse paint of the desert could hide them, she knew they were there. She knew it. Eyes to lips and back again. He caught it because of course he did and grinned at her devilishly. That fluttering again in her chest-that electricity, jump starting her heart. It was a smile she knew too well. That, usually signaled the start of a hunt or beginning of a fight, that she herself wore when she went into battle, Oh I’ll definitely have to kill him again, she thought, licking her lips quickly.
As if reading her mind, he chuckled low. “No. We’ve done that dance with death before and look at us now,” he tsked chiding, “A man has a simple request-“ but she swallows his words and her failure by closing the valley between them, pulling him desperately by his scarf- their lips lock.
That’ll shut him up, she thinks, spiraling into the embrace. It’s clumsy but she finds her footing, kissing him deep and manic. The black paint where eyebrows should be, raises in surprise but he doesn’t fight her. Hands fan out to steady himself and then find her face, cradling it. She herself is surprised they didn’t make their way to her neck to strangle her but his hands are warm, comfortable, safe like she’s precious and, as if the mesa never happened.
She feels the oils and sweat on her lips as that static starts to build between them again. This needs to happen now and be done with. Then I can sleep, her heart begs. Her lips part and his tongue lashes into her mouth as he tries to take control. She nips his bottom lip threatenly. She tastes iron and he growls in response but she can feel his grin against hers and the stirrings of something else near her legs. Her arms wrap around him. Hands desperately searching his back, his chest, his hips for familiar scars. Checking to see if he is real and not some desert fever.
It would be convenient if he wasn’t just a hallucination. I can’t bore all this into someone else, that sinking feeling, we’d have to talk about it and it would be weird around the base. There’d be…expectations. Time I don’t have. Worries I don’t need. Drakka maybe but he’s a talker. Anyone else and I’d just be a trophy, another feat on skin. Who else but a ghost? Her face flushed and her eyebrows knitted with the worries again.
“Stop thinking,” he growled in her ear, nuzzling her head to the side, breathing in the smell of her before latching himself onto her neck, sucking first and then nibbles. A hoarse moan escaped her that she’s been carrying around for stars how long and he cupped a hand over her mouth softly. ”As much as I have missed your siren song I really don’t want to be ripped apart by a ravager tonight,” he whispers in her ear, licking her. Heat thunder rolls in the distance.
She feels her eyes blaze and nips his hand away. ”I’ll rip you apart!” She snaps.
“That’s all I’ve ever asked,” he hums in agreement and kisses her hard on her mouth. Their lips part ever so slightly and this time she lets his tongue in. She sucks on it and nips it and he bites her back. One of his hands is cradling the back of her head, fingers entangled in the mess of her hair. The other is working its way down the small of her back and pulling himself closer to her and she can feel him. He’s like a living current. Like all those times she didn’t dodge fast enough with that Slitherfang.
When the darkness blankets them against the shadows of the old world, he slides his roaming hand under the chest piece of her armor and her bindings, cupping her breast. Rolling her nipple with a dry thumb, calloused from years of hunting. Her camp memories flood back and an involuntary mewl escapes.
“When was the last time-Mhm-Shattered Kiln?” she teases, running her fingers down his neck. She feels him throb into her and she smiles into his kiss. For once he has nothing to say. She’s got him. The need in her escalates, the space between her legs warms. It’s been too long and I just need to sleep without dreams for once. Just pass out, dead to it all. The ringing fills her and she remembers when he said she would hear it in the calm. There never is a calm and I hear it all the time, she wants to scream. Her body curves to him. He spreads her legs apart with his knee allowing her to grind down on it.
“Has-has it been that long?” he replies, above a whisper, in between quick breaths. His roaming hand navigates the folds of her armor until he finds what he’s looking for in the space between her legs. He runs his fingers over her slit, seemingly sighing at his handiwork. She’s already wet but he still manages to shock her-pressing rhythmically with his thumb and curling his fingers into her.
“Nil,” she whimpers into his mouth. Her skin is on fire. She is burning up inside. She gasps and hungrily reaches out to touch him but he dances away.
“Oh No. You already beat me once tonight,” he retorts, licking her lips. Their foreheads are pressed, staring the other down. She growls at him.
“Yes. Yes. Yes, so impatient,” he tuts and picks her up with one hand gripped under her bottom. Her legs wrap around his waist. His lips are on her neck again, tracing her clavicle, covering her. He guides her gently into the cool welcoming sand with his free hand.
In the ruin of the old world, in a city lost to the still sands, where no doubt the ancients did just the same, he carefully unties the bindings to her skirt and looks her over in the soft faint glow of Hidden Ember. Nil smiles down at her and it’s akin to the look she received from him earlier, when surprise, he wasn’t dead. That she hadn’t killed him. That he had survived. A tenderness she hadn’t been expecting and she feels the remorse welling up in the corners of her eyes despite herself. Is this forgiveness?
His eyes scan her with hunger and worship? That’s new. He drinks her in. It has been a very long time. His lips part as if to say something but she sees, he decides against it, choosing to settle his face between her legs instead. She feels his lips brush over her inner thighs, inaudible words whispered into her skin. What is he-but his tongue has found her clit before she can dwell on it and she stops thinking. The ringing silences. Has he gotten better at this? she wonders briefly in the delirium, allowing herself to get lost in it, focusing instead on what his tongue is up to. She tries to buck as he races unknown tracks around, tracing Carja prose into her, applying just the right amount of pressure-but his hands hold her hips in place burying her deeper into the desert. Electricity courses her and she lets the sea of sands take her as the dunes get steeper and steeper. She runs her nails through his hair, grabbing a fist full, it’s softer than she expected. He moans into her, his shoulders shaking. She tries to squeeze her thighs closed, she’s so close, her toes curl as the dunes crest. His hands hold on tighter like she’s a lifeline in this sea and she can feel the sweet sting of bruises. That’ll leave a mark. His eyes lock onto hers, holding her steady just before she arches, throwing her head back and letting out a guttural cry of release.
—
He wiped her off his mouth and puts his armor back into its proper place, brushing sand off his knees looking quite pleased with himself.
She busies herself with rearranging her skirt and avoiding eye contact like he hasn’t just been intimately involved with her parts. She sighed contently shaking the sand from her hair.
“I have to go.” She beams up at him. A yawn sneaks out.
“As expected,” he wistfully replied, “but you know where to find me if you ever want to release your demons.” He waggles his eyebrows at her and then winks knowingly, “on the track of course.”
“Ok. Goodbye Nil.” she stammers suddenly embarrassed and leaves towards Hidden Ember. She knows he’s watching her leave, as he does. A whistle cuts through the desert night and she skitters a bit like she’s drunk. She hears him bark a laugh and giggles to herself, shaking her head and looking to the stars.