The first time she saw him she was astounded by the grace of his movements. The slim, corded frame. The easy arrogance of his kicks and swings. Even as the world came crashing around them; coins flying through the air; a thug smashing a chair and impaling a nobleman; blood pouring over Kelsier's face. It should have disgusted her, but frankly blood wasn't the most disgusting substance to a skaa. For a thief, like herself, it was just a part of life. Like ash.
The ash floated over them, always, like a blanket covering the world. Suffocating them all. She thought of the drawing, given to her by her mother, of the green plant. It seemed to be branded in her mind, giving her a hope which made all else seem pale and meaningless in comparison. Until he came into her life. After the destruction of the Videlicet Brothel, she could not stop thinking of Kelsier. She had, of course, heard of him before. Everyone had heard of Kelsier. But she had seen him protecting the whores, ushering them away while the coins rained down. He seemed capable of a greater goodness than thieving and debauchery. And he had spent the greater part of the month proving that notion wrong.
Mare had become immune to Kelsier's charms by the time he persuaded her to join the crew. Or so she told herself. She initially joined in an attempt to convert him, to bring out the main she had seen at the brothel, but he seemed to have disappeared in the mist. And even her tin couldn't pierce the facade.
She smoothed her hair, preparing to come down to breakfast. Mare was expected to play a noblewoman tonight, attending a ball at the Keep Lekal as Lady Artrois, a distant relation of Hastings hoping to win the hand of a wealthy nobleman. Her skin crawled when she thought of the nobility. Their sick, fake smiles inspired a quiet rage within her. However, scamming them did make it better.
Mar put her hair into a neat bun at her nape, tying her peasant dress tightly at the waist. Kelsier stared at her as she entered the kitchen. She cleared her throat, yet he refused to look away. A smile grew on his lips and Mare realised he was playing with her.
"Pig," she muttered.
"What was that? We can't all be Tineyes. Do spare a thought for us little folk," he said with a smirk.
"Ah stop teasing the girl, Kel, we all know how difficult it is to resist your charms. Don't wanna make it any harder for the poor girl. She was practically melting under your gaze."
The jibe came from a slim, greasy man named Courn. He was their current Soother, and unfortunately indispensable until they found a new one. Their plan required a Soother, it would not work without one. So Courn stayed. For now.
Kelsier seemed pleased with himself, though partially disgusted with Courn's remark. Mare said nothing. She was used to Courn's type, they were common in the underworld. It was a defense mechanism, sliming up to the leader.
But Courn was looking for a reaction, and when Mare didn't provide one he leered, "S'Alright, babe, if Kelsier's too proud to do ya I don't mind. I'm a charitable man."
Mare shattered a bowl of porridge and rushed out of the room.
Kelsier shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unsure whether to reprimand Courn or go after Mare. Or both. Or neither. Reprimanding Courn could make him resent him. Courn was a volatile man, and indispensible to the mission. His anger seemed to abate, and he decided on doing nothing.
"You goddamn bastard, you just Soothed me into not reacting, didn't you?"
"Kel, you're too much of a gentleman. Mare's an uppity little bitch, and you know it."
Kelsier stared angrily at him. "You're off the job."
Courn just grinned, "Don't be stupid, Kel, ya need a Soother."
"I'll find another. Leave before I make you."
Courn continued his self-assured swagger and took another swig of ale. "Alright, then, make me."
Before Courn could even blink, Kell had pulled a dueling cane from his waist and knocked him out over the head.
"Dockson," Kelsier called.
The man came in, still wearing his reading glasses. He hardly blinked when he saw Courn's inert form half-draped across the chair.
"See this piece of filth is put out," Kelsier told him.
Kelsier paused outside of Mare's bedroom, not certain whether apologising for Courn was worth her potential wrath.
"Fuck off," came the muffled voice behind the door.
"How'd you know it was me?"
"I can smell you."
Kelsier took that as an invitation, and opened the door. Mare sat wrapped in her blankets, red-eyed. Her dark hair has escaped her usual bun and wisped around her face.
"Mare– look, I'm sorry."
"Why do you apologise?"
"What do you mean? Of course I apologise. Courn shouldn't have said those things. And I should've done something sooner. He was always stepping out of line."
Mare hick-upped and glared at him. "And how are you any better?"
"Excuse me?" Kelsier said, bewildered.
"I said, how are you any better? You've had four different girls here in the past week. Don't deny it, I saw Anka sneaking out of your bedroom last night. You're gonna blow the job if you're not careful. You know the whores spy for the nobles."
"Anka's not a whore," Kel said defensively.
"Oh," Mare laughed bitterly, "What is she then? A paid volunteer?"
"I would never pay for it. And I would never treat a girl like Courn does."
"No, just do nothing about it when someone else does and then pick up the pieces. Here you are, doing it now. You're such a coward. You think because you scam nobles you're brave?"
"Yes, I do," Kel said, flaring up. "It takes guts, guts and brains to put everything on the line, to play them."
"No. It only takes greed."
Kelsier grew angrier. "Fine then. Go back to Marsh. Go rejoin the resistance. But don't come crying to me when you're starving and need a place to sleep."
Mare looked up at him. He was hurt, that much was plain. She sighed, wishing they could go back to where they used to be. Before she had left him for Marsh. Then come back, after realising she couldn't stand Marsh's cold grey gaze anymore. Of course, nothing had actually happened between her and Kelsier, but the betrayal of being with Marsh had cut Kel all the same. Mare still couldn't figure out whether that was because Kelsier had truly cared or if he just couldn't stand Marsh beating him in conquest.
Mare couldn't stand Kelsier's hard stare, in that moment so like his brother's, and she dissolved into tears once more. She hated crying, but she couldn't help it. The tears boiled out of her eyes, and the snot ran out of her nose and she felt disgusting and pathetic.
Kel reached for her and she sobbed harder. His actions, initially awkward, became smoother when he realised she wouldn't push him away. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. Mare couldn't stop crying, her tears becoming noisier.
"It's ok, I understand," he said. "I know what it's like. I want to help them too, but I just can't do it any other way than this. I just can't, Mare."
Kelsier took a deep breath. "I'm scared, Mare, I'm really scared. I can't hope. When I do, it always crumbles. This world, it always disappoints me. I know it's not enough. I know I'm a coward and I'm sorry."
Mare wiped her nose with her sleeve and looked up at him. She hadn't expected such honesty from Kelsier. She felt acutely aware of his arms around her, and the way his torse curved around her back, enveloping her. She leaned into him, and he held her tighter.
"It's ok," she said quietly.
Mare burned her tin, allowing Kelsier's touch and scent to sear into her. This was all she would allow herself. She couldn't let Kelsier crumble her guard. The truth was that despite Kelsier's moment of honesty, she still couldn't trust him not to hurt her again. He always pushed her away, just like he pushed everyone else away.
Mare registered a faraway voice calling for Kel, recognising it as Dockson's. She extricated herself from Kelsier's embrace, smoothing her dress. He seemed hurt by the action, and Mare felt a tumult of conflicting emotions. Partly satisfaction, but mostly regret and longing, and fear of her own emotions for him.
"Dockson is calling for you," she said.
Kelsier went downstairs to find a slim, pale man in rich clothing lounging at his kitchen table. Dockson was pouring him a glass of wine. Their best Southeastern vintage.
"What the hell is this?" Kel asked. He was planning on drinking that.
Dockson shot him a warning glance, and the stranger said, "Calm down man, there's still some left. I'm more than happy to share."
"Oh how very generous of you. Dox, let me amend the question. Who the hell is this?"
"This," the stranger responded caustically, "is your new Soother, if you don't stop insulting me."
"Oh."
"Yes, now if you've relaxed we can discuss prices."
Kelsier looked at Dockson. "It seems we've traded Courn for one of the same."
"Nonsense," The stranger said. "I am far more refined."
Kelsier sighed. "Alright, you're in. I don't suppose I have any other option. Five percent of takings."
"Ten."
"Eight. And the wine."
The man shrugged, "The way I see it, I've already got the wine. Not much you can do about that now."
"Couldn't you have found anyone less frustrating?" Kel said to Dockson.
"My dear man," the stranger said, "that is my appeal."
Kelsier stared at him, unimpressed.
"I can see this is going to be a long day. The name is Breeze, in case you were going to ask."
"I wasn't. We have a team meeting in an hour. I will fill you in then."
Kelsier returned to his bedroom, thinking of strategies and holes in the plan. The goal was to rob Lekal. Lekal was infamous for fine Southern wines, which could be sold on the blackmarket for a week's worth of food. A month, if you didn't mind broth and stale bread.
Mare, along with Anka, Halla, and Tomra, would distract the Lekal brothers and general populace while Kel and his team infiltrated the Lekal cellars. Anka and the others had already infiltrated noble society. It would be Mare's first night. Kelsier knew she could take care of herself, but worried for her all the same. If she was found… well, he wouldn't think about that now.
However, Kelsier was struggling to think about anything, even the mysterious Breeze. He kept returning to his moments with Mare, hardly an hour before. She had felt so… right in his arms. Not like the others. It wasn't just desire, or at least not just sexual desire. It was as if he desired her being. Her presence. She made him want to be good. Like Marsh, he thought bitterly. He had never asked Mare what happened between her and Marsh, but it seemed much more than anything that had occurred between himself and her.
"Mare," Kelsier said quietly. "Mare, please come. I'm sorry about earlier, I just want to be near you." His voice had tapered off near the end, near inaudible. Still, he heard footsteps and his door opened a moment later.
She was so beautiful. The red sun shone through the window, washing her form in soft light. The light of the oil lamp of his bedside case another angle, illuminating her brow and cheekbones and chin.
"I want to talk about this. About us," he said.
"There's nothing to talk about," she said flatly.
"Please don't lie to me, Mare. I just– the job we're going to do is dangerous. You'll be surrounded by noblemen, obligators. Any moment, you could get found. And just in case anything happens, I wanted to–"
"Stop," she said harshly. "Kel, I can't do this."
"Why? What do you have to lose?"
"I don't care for you. I'm sorry."
This was, of course, a blatant lie. But Kel seemed to have accepted it. He avoided Mare's gaze during lunch, focusing on the other members of the crew. He explained entry-points and timings, lightly flirting with the other girls. The former courtesans. They responded in kind.
"Mare."
"Mare," Kelsier repeated.
"What?" she said, rather sharply.
"You and Anka will arrive at eight. Halla and Tomra will have arrived an hour earlier."
"Alright," Mare said dully.
"What's with her?" the newest member of the team, Breeze, whispered to their Thug, Ham. Mare heard him easily, but ignored the comment. The presence of Breeze had filled her with a fresh flood of guilt after her conversation with Kelsier. She knew she had made the right choice, and Lord knows he had hurt her more times than she could count, but she still couldn't justify hurting him.
Kelsier went on explaining strategy, and Breeze gave her a curious stare. Mare picked at her frayed hem.
Kelsier felt breathless when he saw Mare in her gown. She had woven her long hair into a simple, delicate braided bun. Her lips were painted a striking copper, a few shades lighter than her gown. He wanted to reach out to her so badly, to go back to how they were this morning. He had been an idiot to approach her frankly. Mare was just as her name implied, too skittish to approach her directly. Or too clever.
"Are you okay?" he asked her.
Mare gave a tight nod, pulling up her glove. The movement caused her collarbones to shift. Kelsier stared.
"Your carriage is here," Dockson told her gruffly. "Anka is already inside."
Mare left without looking at Kelsier.
"You love her," Dockson said.
Kelsier didn't bother denying it.
"You're going to lose her if you don't tell her so."
"I already did."
"Don't be stupid. She's obviously mad for you," Breeze drawled from the corner. He was finishing the wine.
Kelsier felt himself warming up to the man, if only marginally.
"She just wants to know she can trust you," Breeze continued. "That's what all skaa girls want, in the end. Someone dependable." His voice grew morose. "You need to show her you'll be there for her."
"That's the thing, though. I don't know that I will. I don't think it's even fair, what I want from her. We're thieves, not noblemen. There's no consistency here. Dependable isn't a word in this life."
"You might be right," Breeze said, uncharacteristically grim. He swirled the wine in his glass and downed it.
"It's time," Dockson said.
