Okay. This has to be the best oneshot I have ever written. Period. I love the Dark Brotherhood quest line, even though I was quite hesitant to be so evil. And I just love Nazir. So yeah, enjoy~
When they first met, her brow creased in confusion as his focus seemed to be on her, and only her. Even more so when he told her he was a Redguard, which she obviously knew, being one herself, but when he said that he wasn't at all like her, nothing like her, in that irritating voice of his, the crease of her brow wasn't from confusion, but in challenge.
"Oh, yes, I can see how we're nothing alike. What with our dark skin, dark hair, and both being assassins I can see how worlds apart we must be." He scoffed at her, obviously not flustered by her retort.
"Assassin? You? Please. You look like you can barely raise a blade, let alone cut someone down with it." Her nose crinkled in frustration. That was her one soft spot, her height and weak demeanor. In a flash she had pounced on him, her blade at his throat. She wasn't going to kill him of course, but he didn't need to know that.
What she didn't expect was for him to laugh, right in her face.
"Oh, please, little girl, I saw that coming from a mile away. You'll have to do better." She scowled and withdrew her blade, settling in its sheathe at her waist. She let out a small squeak of surprise when suddenly she was the one being pinned down by him. His grin was feral.
"Bastard." She wanted to spit at him, but knew it would only come back down on her. He laughed again, and got up. He didn't bother to extend a hand to help her, he knew she wouldn't accept it- she didn't need it.
"Little girl, why don't you prove yourself around here, and maybe I'll start to consider you as an assassin. Just a little, though. Can't have it going to your head now." She scoffed, and moved to turn away, but he stopped her.
"If you want to prove yourself, you need a contract. I happen to be your man, little girl." She utterly despised this nickname he had developed for her in just mere moments of them meeting.
"Nazir's the name if Astrid didn't already tell you. Not that I care, but since I have to write the contracts down and who did them, what's your name?"
All right, so maybe he cared a little.
With a roll of her eyes, she put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" And then she scampered off, and since he was too lazy to follow her, he thought he would just wait until she came back when she knew she had to get a contract.
Except she was taking forever, and he was getting bored.
With a sigh, he walked around the Sanctuary casually, looking for her, but not letting it known. Couldn't damage his reputation as the resident asshole, of course. He realized after his brief search of the area that she wasn't in the vicinity of the Sanctuary. Where could she have gone?
He decided to ask Astrid, she knew what anyone in the Brotherhood was doing. Not that it really mattered to him what she was doing, of course. He just wanted to fling a contract at her.
"She's on her first official contract, of course. Some girl in Markarth wants an ex-lover dead." He was surprised with this news, and more than a bit angry.
"She's already out there? Like, out there? What happens if this person leads her into a den full of ruthless bandits? Why didn't we start her out small like all the other recruits?" With each question he asked, his anger became more apparent until he was nearly shouting at her.
Astrid merely raised one eyebrow at him.
"She's proven herself to me already, Nazir. Didn't I tell you about how she murdered all three of those people, and didn't even bother to ask if they were innocent or not? She just wiped her blade clean, and it was like nothing had ever happened."
He kicked himself mentally for forgetting. She had told him, he just didn't think it was that little stick of a Redguard woman whom Astrid was talking about. He slunk back to his usual spot, bored. He hoped she would hurry her ass up doing whatever it is the contract asked her to do.
Not that he cared, of course. He just wasn't one keen on waiting.
And when a few hours passed and she still hadn't returned and he started to pace, it wasn't like he cared for her safety or anything. And if the other members thought he was acting rather strange for being the laziest person of the Brotherhood, they were nice enough to not mention it. At least to him, anyway.
He could feel Babette's eyes on him, eyeing him with particular curiosity. He chose to ignore it. He wouldn't respond to her study of him. Nope, no sirree, he would not fall for that trick of hers!
"What do you want?" Well, he had tried anyway.
"Oh, little old me? Just wondering what's got your knickers in a bunch. Or would you rather take your frustrations out on the floor you're making a rut out of?" He glanced down at his feet, noticing that he had indeed made some wear on the floor.
"Shut up. There's nothing bothering me." Her eyes narrowed at him, telling him that in all of her 300 years of living (or possibly more, she was always sketchy on that detail) she was not one to be fooled, especially not so easily, and especially not by him. He knew he would have to answer her sooner or later, one didn't just ignore inquires from Babette. She wouldn't forget.
But then he heard the familiar groan of the door opening, and he casually strolled over to the stairs. He was just curious. And so what if "casually strolled" really meant "walked faster than he ever had in his life"? It wasn't like he cared, he told himself again. Because he didn't.
When he saw it was her, he ignored the little feeling of glee that was sent through him at the sight of her. He was just happy to have something to do; that was all. He also ignored the jolt of fear sent through him when he realized blood was seeping from her side.
"Hey, you oafs! Somebody get off your ass and heal her!" He shouted, knowing his voice would carry throughout the Sanctuary. He supported most of her weight as he helped her limp to down the steps, but he quickly grew tired of it and just swept her up and into his arms. It wasn't that he hated seeing her in pain that walking had brought her, of course. Because he didn't care.
Or so he kept telling himself.
He sat her down on a makeshift cot by the little pond, and Babette and Festus were already running up, poultices and healing spells with them. For some reason, he didn't feel like leaving it to them like he used to. He told himself it was because he felt obligated to help a fellow Redguard in peril.
Because, of course, he didn't care.
But maybe, just maybe, he wanted her to be healed as quickly as possible. When Festus told him to go away because he couldn't really help, what with all his bumbling with bandages, but he couldn't find it within him to leave. So he stayed, looking on with a slightly heavy heart.
It didn't feel like his heart would burst at should she not make it out all right, of course. Not one bit. And his mouth didn't stretch into the biggest smile he'd ever achieved when she woke up the next morning, feeling just fine. Not at all.
"Nazir." A voice called out to him, and he halted his walking and walked to the makeshift blacksmith.
"Yes?" He inquired, curious as to why Arnbjorn was calling him. He was the most antisocial one of the bunch, only talking to Astrid.
"You best wipe that love sick look off your face, son, before the others catch on. You won't hear the end of it." Nazir's face slipped into a scowl, and he walked away, confused. Love sick? He was far from it! He couldn't fathom being in love with someone, let alone someone he had only just met.
Whom he still didn't even know the name of.
But he was determined to know, lest she leave again. So he marched into his room, where he suggested she sleep whilst she was recovering since his bed was the nicest of them all (not because he cared or anything) and found her laying there, fast asleep.
Even he couldn't deny that his heart melted a little at the sight.
Well, he could wait a bit until she woke up. He'd just observe until then.
Not that he… cared.
So he sat on the edge of his bed, and brushed the strands of hair that covered her face. He noticed a little scar right below her ear, which was almost unnoticeable. He would inquire as to how she got it, later. But now was the time to act on the most important question he had, as she was waking up.
"Nazir?" She questioned, her voice still husky with sleep. He nearly jumped her right then and there.
"What's your name, little girl?"
"Lette." She told him, smiling a little. Well, that was one mystery solved! Now he could go on with his business of not caring in the least.
"See me once you're good to do some contracts, Lette." He told her, and left.
He tried not to interact with her much after that. Only when she handed in contracts is when he even dared to speak with her. It was just another sarcastic comment, of course. But she always looked a little bit happier afterwards.
Then, that night came, where almost everywhere he went he only found flames. The others were dead, he knew. He heard their screams of anguish. He couldn't mourn, not now, not when there were still people trying to kill him, and he didn't know if she was among them, or the dead.
When a dagger that was not his own plunged into the head of the enemy, he knew she was alive and safe and well, still on his side. He turned to look at her, and he did not like what he saw. Her armor was mostly torn, and somewhat burnt, and her lovely face (had he really thought her face was lovely?) was covered in scrapes. She limped towards him, and nearly fell into his arms when he reached for her.
"Lette, come on. We've got to get out. By Sithis, I'm not letting them take you."
Her mouth opened, as if she wanted to ask a question, but she was shushed by the sound of a large explosion. He knew what she wanted to ask: Why?
Because I care.
He thought they were in the clear, when the fire stopped and the enemies were dead. Then he realized she wasn't behind him as he thought she was. He panicked, and then Babette materialized beside him.
"Hurry, get her out of the coffin, or she'll drown!" He didn't need further persuasion; he was already there, pulling the coffin out. He was a little pissed at Babette for not even trying, but in his mind he knew she wouldn't have been much help. Her body was still 10 years old.
When he finally got her out of the water, and pried the coffin doors open, he breathed a sigh of relief as she stumbled out, coughing up some water, but otherwise, alive.
"Come," She started, and he looked perplexed.
"Astrid is still here."
She broke off in a limping run, as if she knew exactly where Astrid would be. He didn't doubt it was the Night Mother guiding her. After all, she was the Listener.
They found Astrid, her body nearly burnt to a crisp, but somehow alive. They discovered it had been she who had betrayed them- sent them all to their deaths. All because she was jealous. Lette carried out the contract Astrid bestowed upon them; her very own death. She took the Blade of Woe, and plunged it right into Astrid's heart, sending her to the Void.
Lette kept the Blade of Woe. He didn't begrudge her for it, although he was a little curious as to why. As they stood there, feeling anger and pity for their former mistress, a plan was hatched.
She'd kill Commander Maro, and the Emperor of all of Tamriel, with that single blade. They thought it a fit revenge for their fallen family. While she was carrying the contract out, he and Babette (and of course the Night Mother) went to Dawnstar's Sanctuary.
It didn't feel like home at first, but it'd have to be.
When she came back, however, it felt right to be there. Maybe it was because his home… was with her.
Because he cared.
He was anxious at his revelation, and he knew he wouldn't be whole without her. He'd have to tell her. Soon.
He found her sitting at a table, not doing anything it seemed, just sitting. He took the seat across from her, and waited for her eyes to meet his. When they did, he noticed they were wet with unshed tears.
"It'll be okay. They're serving Sithis, as we all do. We'll see them again someday." He told her, and she smiled a little, nodding. Without thinking, he reached out and held her hand in his, and loved the subtle blush on her bronze cheeks.
"Nazir?"
"Hm?" He was a little distracted by the way her hand felt so right in his, and didn't notice her leaning over the table towards him. When he did, their noses were touching, and she was looking him right in the eye.
"Why?"
"Because… I care." He said with a smirk, and she grinned before pressing her lips to his.
Maybe, just maybe… She cared too.