"Lyannah." He muttered, glaring at the vague outline of her body in the darkness of the room. There was no response.
"Lyannah!" He repeated, albeit a bit louder. She grumbled, pressing her face into the pillow:
"LYANNAH!"
She grunted irritably, rolling over and sitting up:
"What?!" she finally yelled in reply, bloodshot eyes staring up at him.
He crossed his arms with a chuckle. It was as bad as he had anticipated, if not worse. Wasn't much chance she'd be leaving her room that day.
"It's not at all amusing..." she muttered, hazily rolling her eyes as her hands went up to rub her forehead.
"Well, a little bit." He started, moving to the side of her bed and sitting down:
"How do you feel?" he asked softly.
She rubbed her eyes, barely managing to keep them open:
"Like dying..."
He shook his head, reaching into his bag and placing a bottle of water at the side of the bed:
"I'll handle today without you. Get some rest, and make sure to drink enough water." He instructed, patting her shoulder as he stood up.
She dropped back onto the bed, with a pained groan:
"I don't need your pity..." she mumbled.
He stood back up with a grin, and stepped to the door:
"I'm sure you don't. See you later." He said, and walked to the elevator.
As he stepped inside and ordered it to the bottom floor, he realized this was the first time in weeks he had been on his own. Despite years alone, telling himself he was better off that way, he had gotten used to having Lyannah by his side at all times. What had transpired in the elevator the night before even made him consider, that perhaps he'd gotten too used to it. Or perhaps he just shouldn't let her do drugs.
The elevator came to a halt, and he quickly marched through the lobby and out of the main door. He really only had two points on his agenda today, so missing Lyannah wouldn't be a problem. First was informing the Followers about his deal with the Garret twins. Second was meeting the NCR governor here on the strip. Politicians bored him, so he decided to have a chat with Julie Farkas first.
As usual, the visitors on the strip threw curious glances at him. Few were ever seen entering the Lucky 38, and if anyone dared a forced entry, they would quickly be put down by the army of Securitrons outside.
It wasn't that he didn't want anyone inside. The hotel floors of the tower could be used to house quite a number of the not so fortunate from Freeside. But if he brought more than a few people with him, the robots went into action. He hadn't figured out how to remove that part of their programming yet, and they wouldn't respond to his commands. So for the time being, the Lucky 38 would remain as his very private domain.
As more and more people joined the strange stare-off, the Courier finally shook his head and weaved through the crowd, headed straight for the gate. Once again, he had gotten lost in his own thoughts. A bad habit.
It was a short and uneventful walk to the Old Mormon Fort. It wasn't quite late enough for the gambling, drinking and whoring to have properly started, so the usual stream of variously sick and wounded people hadn't built up yet. Thus, he was able to stroll straight through the heavy wooden gate, and into the camp.
As it turned out, to his irritation, Julie was not there. A young and nervous member of the followers let him know that she would be back soon, so to pass the time he found himself a place to sit, with a nice view of the gate. Lighting a cigarette, he curiously observed the people passing through. There were gamblers, soldiers and gangsters alike.
A couple caught his eyes as they hurried through the gate. It was a young man, fussing all over an evenly-aged woman, whom he assumed was the man's significant other. It was unclear to the Courier why they were there, until the woman displayed a series of bruises to a nurse. She had likely been mugged.
The man seemed highly alert, circling around her like a guard dog. As a contrast, the woman acted as if nothing was amiss. She caught her man by the arm as he paced by, and discreetly placed a soft kiss on his cheek, whispering something in his ear. He immediately went docile.
Strangely, his thoughts drifted to Lyannah. For a moment last night, in the elevator, she'd had him completely under her control. If he hadn't been distracted, there was no telling what the simpler parts of him would have done.
Although he wanted to blame her actions on the drugs, several things made him consider that they might have been caused by more than simple lust. There had been a lot of other men in the bar that night, many of them more attractive than the Courier. If a man in her bed was what she wanted, she could have had any one of them.
And then there was her reaction when he refused her advances. She hadn't just been disappointed. She'd been hurt, and he was certain he'd seen tears in her eyes.
He felt silly for even considering it, but perhaps she wanted more than simple friendship. By now, he had realized that his own feelings towards her were becoming dangerously affectionate. What if she felt the same way? Relationships in the wasteland would inevitable lead to someone getting hurt, but was it really so bad to, for once, want a little comfort midst all the death and destruction?
"You're back." a voice next to him said.
He shook his head, and turned it to whoever had spoken. It was Julie. He'd forgotten all about watching the gate.
His expression must have mirrored the doubt in his thoughts, because Julie sat down next to him with a concerned frown:
"Are you all right?"
He quickly nodded his head, turning the chair to face her better:
"Yeah, sorry. Just... got a lot to think about." He explained.
She bobbed her head in understanding and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder:
"You're driving yourself too hard. A few weeks out of the wastes would do you good."
He chuckled, shaking his head:
"I'm sure. But the war doesn't wait. Neither do raiders and mutants."
"There are other people fighting, you know. Nobody expects you to take care of everything." She reasoned.
He let out a groan, as he stood up and pinched his cigarette into the dust:
"I'm not about to let others die because I'm tired, Julie. Surviving is hard enough without war." He said, perhaps with a bit more of an edge than he had intended.
She sighed, softly shaking her head. She was one of the few people who actually tried making things better, so he shouldn't snarl at her. She only wanted to help.
"Sorry." He muttered, awkwardly scratching his head.
She shrugged overbearingly:
"It's alright. I'm used to drug addicts snapping at me."
He chuckled, although the comparison was unsettling:
"Anyways, I came here for a reason. I've got a proposal for you."
It felt nice to finally deliver some good news. Though she seemed skeptical of working with the Garrets at first, the details of the deal were enough for her to overlook their differences. The smile of relief on her face was worth the haggling.
In fact, she was so happy, she invited him to stay for a while, and have a drink. It was a gesture she hadn't offered before, and he happily accepted. The longer he could delay his return to the by now busy strip, the better.
After having fetched a bottle, Julie poured them both a glass. They touched their glasses together with a 'Cheers', and then both had a sip. He couldn't quite place the taste. It certainly wasn't whiskey, his preferred drink, and also not vodka, or any other beverage he'd had before. Very likely, it was a homemade followers specialty.
"So, where's your uh.. companion? Did you part ways?" Julie asked curiously.
It hadn't occurred to him that anyone payed lasting attention to Lyannah. He hoped Julie didn't have too many questions, or it could get difficult to make up an explanation:
"No, we're still together. She got into some trouble last night, so I'm giving her a day off. I'm just running errands in the city anyways." He explained.
Julie nodded, tapping her glass lightly:
"She certainly seemed.. special, when I met her."
The Courier chuckled. If only she knew:
"Oh yeah. She's pretty hard to control, and she doesn't do well with people. But I like having the company for a change, and she's a hell of a fighter."
She tilted her slightly, the corners of her lips turning up in a small smile:
"Do you like her?" she asked slyly.
The Couriers mouth dropped open. He certainly hadn't expected this:
"Uh, sure. Otherwise I wouldn't travel with her." He tried, innocently.
Of course, Julie saw straight through him:
"You know what I mean. Do you like her?" she repeated, a bit more seriously.
He let out a sigh, rubbing his forehead and having another mouthful of the home-brew before answering:
"Shit, I don't know. Maybe. Probably. Nothing is really certain with her." He muttered.
"She's very pretty." Julie remarked, as if trying to ease his mind.
He had to agree with that, he thought to himself, as he nodded:
"That she is."
They sat in silence for a while, until Julie stood up. A large group of people was coming through the gate. Break time was over.
She leaned down, saying: "You deserve more than just friends." before patting his shoulder, and moving towards her new patients.
He exhaled deeply, bottoming his drink before slowly getting up, and heading for the gate. It was time to get going.
As he made his return to the main street leading to the strip, it became apparent that the masses had started flocking to the casinos. Having to mash his way through tourists and drunk soldiers on leave, it took him more than an hour to get back to the strip. Luckily, once he reached the gate, he could pass right through. Everyone else had to be checked, but he had free access.
Even on the other side, there was a considerable amount of people. It was, however, much more manageable, and it didn't take him nearly as long to reach the embassy.
The guards that had been stationed outside let him pass inside without trouble, even going so far as to salute him. He'd fought battles for the NCR, but he had never been invited to enlist, which was fine with him. Still, many considered him a part of the NCR, whether it was official or not. Especially the soldiers. He settled for a simple nod, and went straight for the office building. If he was lucky, the ambassador wouldn't be in a mood to discuss politics, or explain the history of the NCR.
As he came through the main doors, a receptionist looked up, and to his surprise waved him over. Usually they just let him come and go as he liked. Regardless, he heeded her call, and stepped up to her desk.
She threw him that fake secretary smile, and cheerily said:
"Hello, Mister uh... Courier. Ambassador Crocker is expecting you in his office."
He raised an eyebrow. He hadn't notified them that he would be visiting:
"Expecting me? For what?"
The woman shrugged lightly, pointing down the hallway towards the offices:
"Might as well ask him your self." She said.
A polite way of telling him to piss off, he thought, as he went in the direction she had indicated. Of course he knew where the ambassadors office was. He'd been there before, and still remembered how he had been 'invited' to a meeting, when he arrived at Vegas the first time. More like ordered to appear. Nobody would dare order him around now.
He arrived at the ambassadors office, and swiftly knocked on the door before entering.
The NCR ambassador, Dennis Crocker, was sat in a chair behind his desk, hands folded in front of him. He looked troubled.
The Courier took the freedom of having a seat, and Crocker turned his head up, nodding briefly in greeting.
There were none of the usual courtesies. The ambassador let out a sigh, and sat staring at the Courier for a short while, before clearing his throat:
"We need your help."
The Courier shook his head, disregarding Crocker:
"Sure you do. I've got news from the south. The amount of raiding parties is rising, and they're moving further than before. You need to send more troops down there."
The ambassador nodded slowly, waiting patiently until the Courier finished:
"We know."
The Courier was dumbstruck. They'd traveled all the way from Goodsprings, just to deliver old news.
Yet the ambassador wasn't finished:
"The Legion is stepping up their operations all over the desert. Rangers report massive combat drills and troop movements in the Fort. We think they're going to make a move on the dam... soon." He explained.
The Courier sighed. He wouldn't pretend that he hadn't sensed it approaching:
"So let me guess, you want me to go to the dam."
Crocker nodded:
"That's right. But there's another thing. President Kimball will be coming to the dam, and holding a speech. Something to motivate the soldiers. There's no doubt the Legion will try something, so we'd like you to oversee security. Make sure this doesn't end up demoralizing everyone."
He let out a snort, crossing his arms across his chest:
"Explain why I should do this. I've helped you before, and still you aren't doing anything for the people living around here."
The ambassador breathed out deeply, rubbing his baggy eyes. The Courier realized he hadn't seen the man so worn out before. He was obviously highly bothered by the current state of affairs:
"I promise you, if you help us with this, we will never ask anything more of you. We both know securing the dam is in the interest of Vegas. Go to the dam. Protect the president. When they do attack, we want you to be there. I'm not sure we can do it without you. I'm not even sure we can do it with you. So please. On behalf of all the republic, I beg you to help us one last time."
It was very convincing. In truth, he'd known from the start that he would end up fighting at the dam. It had simply been a matter of when, and now the time had come.
He leaned forward, extending his hand towards Crocker:
"Alright. One last time."
The ambassador looked relieved, and quickly shot up from his chair, grabbing the Courier's hand:
"Thank you. You have no idea how much this mean-"
Suddenly, the door to the office burst open, and a breathless military police officer stepped into the office, pointing at the Courier and hectically exclaiming:
"You need to come right away! It's your companion!"
He let out a sigh, and stoop up from his chair. It was never good when the MP's came running, and with Lyannah involved it could only be bad. Thus, he immediately followed the soldier, throwing a reassuring nod at the ambassador as he rushed out of the door. He wouldn't forget.
The MP led him straight out of the embassy, and towards the casinos. Even from a distance, it was apparent that a large crowd had gathered around a spot next to the street. It was a ring of curious observers, and NCR soldiers with their rifles aimed at a point between them. He could imagine what he would find there.
As he pushed his way through the ring and into the center, he was taken aback by what he saw.
It was certainly Lyannah, sitting on a bench with her arms crossed and a grumpy look on her face, but for a brief moment he became in doubt. She had removed her armor, and was instead wearing a dress she must have found in the Lucky 38. She carried no weapons, apart from her hands, and she had even braided the hair on one side of her head and tied it down with a silver band.
He found himself staring at her, his mouth dropped open. Even in her gear, ready for battle, her looks would make most other women jealous. But the way she was now... he could barely believe it.
He snapped himself out of it, and realized that 10 rifle barrels were pointed at her head, with nervous NCR troopers behind the triggers.
He stepped out in front of them, blocking their line of fire:
"Lower your guns. She's with me." He exclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear.
One of the troopers shook his head, now keeping his sights trained on the Courier:
"We ain't doing anything until you sort this out. She told us to get you, so you better handle this."
He shook his head, and went to sit down next to Lyannah. She did her best to keep up the grumpy attitude, but the way she refused looking at him, told him that she wasn't entirely proud of whatever she had done.
"I told you to 'get some rest', not 'get arrested'." He muttered to her.
She rolled her eyes, and let out a snort:
"Yes, I am aware . Can we just go now?"
He chuckled to himself, quickly shaking his head:
"Oh no. Not yet. You're going to tell me what happened, before we go anywhere."
"Nothing happened." She snarled, finally turning her head and meeting his eyes: "I just wanted to try this 'gambling'. I read about it, and I thought it would be relaxing."
"Let me guess, you lost all your money."
Now it was her turn to shake her head:
"Of course not. I don't lose. In fact, I kept winning. Suddenly they wanted to throw me out, and I hadn't even done anything." She explained.
He nodded, signalling with his hands for her to continue:
"And...?"
"And, then they tried forcing me out. So I broke their arms." She explained, as if it was the most natural reaction in the world.
"Well, what then?" he asked.
She sighed in annoyance, and turned on the bench to face him better:
"I wanted to continue playing, but the 'dealer' had escaped. Then some men in white jackets started shooting, so I ran outside, flipping a few tables on the way. For cover."
This was getting amusing:
"Do continue."
"I'm not sure what happened next, it was a bit strange. I ran into a group of soldiers, and at first they wanted me to 'join the fun'. Then the men from before followed me out, and ordered the soldiers to capture me."
This just got more and more chaotic, the Courier thought to himself as Lyannah went on.
"It got a little hectic. I knocked a few people to the ground, and somehow destroyed that water spraying contraption." She said, pointing to a smashed fountain.
"Nice." He muttered, nodding approvingly at the trail of destruction she had left behind:
"But how did you end up here? How did they catch you?"
She shrugged lightly:
"They didn't. They ran off yelling something about reinforcements. I got thirsty, and sat down to have a drink, as you instructed." She said, displaying the bottle of water he had left for her in the morning.
"And now we're here." He finished, an amused smile growing on his face.
"And now we're here." Lyannah concurred.
The Courier clapped his hands together, standing up and walking towards the soldiers. They didn't seem to find it funny at all:
"Well, I think this is all just a huge misunderstanding. How about you boys put the rifles down and head back to your barracks. I'll make sure she doesn't do it again." He said, with a reassuring smile. He could only hope they would do so.
While they remained stubborn at first, a few of the men started pulling back. When their friends did not follow, they whispered to each other and threw apprehensive glances at the Courier and Lyannah. Finally, they all turned, and walked away.
The Courier let out a relieved sigh, and turned to Lyannah. He should probably be mad, but the way she sat with her arms crossed, doing her best to seem careless, made it hard to blame her.
In the end, he simply shook his head overbearingly, and signaled for her to follow him, as he started on his way towards the Lucky 38. She quickly followed after him, under accusing glares from the other visitors.
The strip was limited in size, and it did not take long for them to arrive. As they stepped through the doors, the Courier could finally breathe out in relief. He knew the NCR soldiers wouldn't have done anything. It was the Chairmen he was worried about. They didn't take lightly to anyone compromising the security of their casino. He wouldn't have been surprised if they had tried something, even in the middle of the strip.
As they reached the elevator doors, the Courier turned around to face Lyannah. He had to say something. His feelings for her didn't make her actions acceptable:
"Lyannah." He started, unsure of what exactly he wanted to say.
As it turned out, he didn't need to say anything. Lyannah immediately shushed him, and took in a deep breath before speaking:
"I know. I shouldn't have gone out. I just thought I could be... normal. Thought I could be like the women you're used to."
The Courier pressed the button to the elevator, and stepped inside. Lyannah followed in after him, continuing:
"I'm sorry. This world is not like mine. I don't know why I always end up fighting. I just thought I could make you happy, if I did what everyone else does."
His finger hovered over the button to the suite. Instead, he pressed the penthouse button. She cared about his happiness?
The doors slid shut, and Lyannah seemed desperate for some kind of reaction:
"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry! About killing people, about fighting.. about yesterday." She whimpered, barely audibly mumbling the last part.
In a way, He'd hoped the conversation would take a turn towards what had transpired in the elevator the night before. It would do them both good to talk about it:
"It's alright. I'm not mad. But I need to talk to you. I need to know, if that was you, or if it was the drugs."
The question clearly surprised her:
"W-what do you mean?" she stuttered, immediately nervous.
He took a daring step closer to her. This time, she was the one pressed up against the wall:
"You know what I mean. If you have any interest in me, I need to know." He stated.
Just then, they arrived at the top floor, and the doors slid open. Lyannah smoothly nudged past him, and quickly stepped down the stairs, towards the seating area:
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
So she was acting reserved. Hard to get. That was good. He had always liked a challenge, he thought, as he stepped down after her:
"Yes you do. I saw you last night, the way you acted. Drugs make people do strange things, but never without any reason. The only way you would jump me like that, is if you have some sort of interest. You want me."
She stopped dead in her tracks, and suddenly the Courier felt alarmed. He'd felt in control of the situation, but as she slowly turned around to face him, he could feel his confidence drain:
"Don't flatter yourself. Why would I be interested in you? I've met countless men who are smarter, stronger and faster... not to mention more handsome. I practically know nothing about you. I don't even know your name, just some pathetic title given to you by awestruck beggars and addicts." She snarled. Her sudden outburst was shocking, to say the least, and she wasn't even done yet:
"You treat me like a child. You extract information from me, as if I was being interrogated, and you refuse to give anything back."
He frowned, and took a step towards her:
"You know full well that I don't remember anything! You know just as much about me as I do! As everyone does! You don't know my name, because I don't know my name!" he yelled.
She rolled her eyes, jabbing a finger into his chest:
"But you don't even care! You know what I can do. I showed you my memories. If you cared, you would have asked your magical companion to seek through your mind."
He grabbed her hand, as she continued poking him:
"You wouldn't find anything. I got shot in the head, remember? Besides, you need to conserve your fancy magic."
Her expression grew solemn, and perhaps even sad:
"You have no way to know, unless you let me try. If there's anything at all left, I can find it. If you would just trust me."
He stared at her doubtfully. She couldn't possibly find anything. His memory was destroyed, otherwise he'd... remember. Right?
His doubt got the better of him. What if there was a trace memory of his old life, hidden away somewhere in the reaches of his mind? This was the best, and probably only chance he would ever have of knowing.
With a deep sigh, he sat down on a luxurious couch:
"Alright. If you seriously think it's worth it."
She nodded approvingly, and placed herself in front of him. She let her eyes drop closed, and gently placed her palm against his head.
Nothing happened. Lyannah didn't move, and there were no crystal clear pictures rolling over his eyes, as there had been when she displayed the memory of her homeland to him.
He started to worry, that perhaps she had miscalculated her reserves of magic. Perhaps there really was nothing to find. Although it was foolish, he had started hoping that there might be something. Anything.
Then a sharp pain shot through his entire body, and his vision turned blank. He wanted to scream in pain, but nothing escaped him, and he realized that he could not feel his body.
A searingly bright light appeared before him as his vision returned, and the brightness burned his eyes. Then the light warped, and a chaotic series of pictures started appearing in his mind; A rocky canyon, a pile of charred bodies, a puppy, an empty pistol cartridge, a burning desert. The flood of visual impressions kept on, bombarding his mind, until a single picture froze on his retina. Only, this wasn't a picture.
He saw the outline of a woman, standing above him. She slowly bowed down, bangs of brown hair framing her face. Though the vision was unclear, he could make out a bright smile, shining down at him, and a pair of clear blue eyes.
The woman chuckled, and the Courier felt joy bubble up in him. It was a wonderful sound. Her hand reached out, gently caressing his cheek, and he heard her whisper:
"William."
William?
The vision of the woman started to fade. He wanted to scream, wanted to reach out and hold her. He wanted it to stay. It felt right.
His sight warped around, and the blurry form of a woman reappeared in front of him. He heard the name 'William' whispered again, and instinctively reached out, pulling the supple form of her body into his arms. He felt her arms softly sliding around his back, and for a while they stood there.
When his senses finally seemed to reappear, and his vision sharpened, he realized that it was Lyannah in his arms, and not the woman from his dream. He also realized, that he didn't mind.
"Your name is William." He heard her mutter.
A sense of longing rippled through him, and without much forethought he pulled her out in front of him, and quickly placed a tender kiss on her lips. Her entire body jittered in surprise, yet she made no attempts to pull away, and before long she returned his affections in kind.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, he pulled his head away from hers, and their lips parted. Lyannah looked up at him, her eyes revealing the desire he had suspected:
"I am interested." She finally admitted.
He nodded, sliding his hand over her bare shoulders:
"I know."
Accepting her lack of protest as permission to proceed, he gently pushed the straps of her dress down over her arms. The soft material dropped, landing in a pile at her feet, and she was left standing in her undergarments.
He allowed himself a moment to take in the features of her body, and what he saw did not disappoint him. Even the many scars that stood in clear contrast to her delicately pale skin added in, to give her a form of raw beauty. Combining that with the clear definition of her muscles, spoke volumes about her character.
He reached out with one of his hands, gently tracing a finger along one of the scars. Each one told a story, and with the amount she had, entire books could probably be written.
She nervously moved to cover her markings from his gaze, and would have done so, if he hadn't caught her hands in his own. She perked her head up, and the insecurity in her eyes was obvious:
"I-I'm sorry... the scars... I'm horrible." She muttered, her head sinking shamefully.
He quickly shook his head, placing a finger under her chin and forcing her to look up:
"You're beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He stated.
A cute smile played on her lips, and her cheeks blushed. With her confidence restored, she raised her hands to his shoulders, and pushed him back down onto the couch, on his back. She jumped onto him, straddling across his waist, and leaned down with her mouth next to his ear:
"Will you love me?" she whispered.
He placed a trail of kisses from her neck, up to her cheek, and finally replied:
"I will."