Chapter Text
When she first attempts to press her fingers to his neck, they slip. A tremor overtakes them as she tries again; but between the shaking and the blood, so much blood – whose, she can’t tell, because he’d gotten a few good hits in on her – she can’t seem to hold them steady for long enough. Cheerful birdsong winds its way through the trees atop the mesa, oblivious to the macabre scene laid out in front of her. In the grass, on the rocks, on her hands, in her lap; blood splatter, blood droplets, blood on her, blood all over him –
She breathes in. She exhales. She somehow finds her center. She tries once more.
This time, she finds purchase in a nook in his neck, the soft skin there a sweet caress against the callouses on her fingertips. To think of him in terms of sweetness and softness rather than violence would have seemed absurd back when they first met, but they’ve come a long way since Nora lands.
There have been moments. Moments where the gruesome veneer he dons like a mask had cracked, moments where the grey of his eyes had resembled a gentle spring rain more than snarling storm clouds.
She waits. The silence grows louder.
He doesn’t move, as still as –
No. She won’t think about that, not where there’s still a chance. An infinitesimally tiny chance, but she’s faced worse odds and come out triumphant.
But this is different , whispers a voice in her head. This time, it’s because of you.
Your fault, your fault, your fault -
The voice taunts her through ringing ears, so loud in its mocking that she nearly misses it.
It’s hardly anything at first, more the quiver of a bird’s feather than the beat of a drum. But she knows what she felt, and the voice in her head is abruptly silenced. Her vision blurs as she leans in closer. Religion has been her nemesis from the time of her birth, but in this moment, she whispers words that resemble prayer more than anything else. It’s just another secret shared between them, she supposes.
The air holds its breath as she waits. The birds seem to quiet further with each new beat, stronger than the next. By the time he stirs, all the world has hushed, waiting poised on the edge of a knife.
When Nil opens his eyes, his pulse steady and strong against her fingertips, Aloy smiles at him through bloodied teeth.