Chapter Text
…fever…down…
…where…the stream?..
…what…reaction…
…do you know…
…bottles…here…
…
…him, from before…
…all we can do is wait…
The world returned slowly. Voices had been slipping through his mind. Unfamiliar. Familiar. Not the usual ones but others. Something about a reaction. He didn’t quite know. Couldn’t understand.
Damp on his face. Felt nice. Everything hurt. Not in a good way. Where was he?
Eyes cracked open. Green. Green everywhere. And…stone. The sound of water.
He barely managed to roll to the side before his stomach purged itself again. The bile burned along a throat already raw and he whined in pain.
“Easy now. That’s good. You need to get as much out as you can.”
A calm voice, unfamiliar but kind. The world began to come into focus, hazy and indistinct shapes slowly forming into…rocks. Moss. Plants. And - a bird? No. A person. Woman. Bird-woman. Bird-woman?
Chuckling. Not his.
“I’ve been called a lot of things, outlander, but that’s a first.”
Sound of rain.
“Here. See if you can take a sip of this.”
Something against his lips. Tastes like water. Normal caution superseded by the thought that if the bird-woman was going to kill him there were better ways. Poisoning doesn’t get the blood flowing, after all.
“Good. You should sleep some more if you can.”
Hmm. Sleep. Maybe I should-
Darkness claimed him before the thought could finish.
This time when he awoke he was at least somewhat aware. He knew he was sick. Something about the alcohol was his guess as that was the last firm recollection he had that wasn’t flavored with fuzzy confusion. He knew he was with the Tenakth by the vague image in his head of a woman with a startlingly avian appearance.
“Are you back amongst the living, boy, or do I have to send for an Utaru gravesinger?”
Think of the devil…
“I-” Coughing. Sputtering. Mouth dry enough to catch fire on a warm day. She held a cup of water to his lips, let him sip as well as he could. He tried again.
“I…thank you.”
“Well, you’ve got manners at least.” She turned to refill the cup from a clay jug on a nearby table.
“Where am I?” he managed.
“You’re in the Grove. It was a close call. What do you remember?”
“I remember…”
…her eyes, the pain as she turned to go…
…searching, looking, chasing rumors as fast as the wind…
…one too many rumors…
“...drinking a lot.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And…a stream?”
“Is that all?”
“And…yes. I think so.” She did not need to know what drove him.
“Hmm.” The cup was handed over to him, and this time he was able to steady it with both hands and sip a little on his own. The woman pushed the table closer to him, close enough that he could reach it easily, and then walked towards the door.
“She’ll want to know you’re awake. She’s been very worried.”
“She?” It couldn’t be what he hoped.
“Aloy. I’ll let her know you have awoken. She’s been with the Chief all morning.”
And then he was alone and those words rang in his head like the call of his Huntress’ laughter as she dashed down the racetrack. He had to leave. He could not…he was not…
…he was on his feet and stumbling, but he somehow made it to a break in the stonework that might have been a window once upon a time in ages past. Maneuvering with no coordination, head feeling lopsided and too big for his neck, and the spots in front of his eyes were taking on colors to rival Morlund’s glamping lights, yet he still managed to get one leg up and out through the opening. He was working on holding back his bile and struggling through the hole, and was almost there when-
“Nil, what the fuck are you doing?!”
Oddly, moss-covered stone wasn’t as soft as he might have thought it would be when one landed on it sideways.
“NIL!”
“It always looks soft…” he mumbled.
“What?”
“The moss. It looks soft. Softer than it is.” Hey, if he was going to hallucinate that she was here, he may as well reply, right?
The hands on his arms didn’t feel much like a hallucination, though. Nor did the firm muscles of the shoulder he was resting on. Strange.
“Nil, you really need to let me get you back in bed.”
“...no.”
“What?”
“He won’t like that.”
“Wait, who - what are you talking about?”
“The Chief.” He heard his own voice, slurring and weak, and it confused him. He was normally much better spoken. Maybe if his tongue wasn’t three sizes too big for his mouth. He stuck it out as far as he could, trying to see exactly how swollen it was.
“Nil, what…what are you doing?”
“My tongue is fat.”
Somehow those words didn’t sound right either. He gave up.
“...Nil, come on. Bed.”
“Huntress,” he said carefully, enunciating every syllable as he tried to gather the strength to look up and see if his fever dream accurately captured the green-gold starlight of her eyes. Alas, his head was weighted down with luminous braiding and was too heavy to carry. He let it drop once more. “I wish to not die painfully. So just leave me.”
“Nil, what - why would you die? You’re healing now - all the poison is gone. At least, I hope you’re healing…”
He had to make this vision understand what he was saying. It seemed a very stubborn vision, he would give it that.
“I shall explain. If the Chief finds that I have in my bed the very firebird he plans to claim as his own, I will wish very much for a death I know shall not be granted. So leave me, shade of temptation. I can’t do this. Not now. Not her.”
He felt the shoulder under his head jolt almost as if surprised, and movement like someone above him was shaking their head in confusion. But that didn’t make sense. He was the one that should be confused, not this mental projection of his deepest cravings.
“There is…what in the name of…Nil, I have no idea where you got any of this from but - shit! Dekka! DEKKA!!! ”
Her panicked yelling followed him down to the cool depths and his last thought was that it would break his heart to pieces if he ever heard his Huntress screaming like that over him.