A/N: UPDATED 29-JULY-2021
This is a re-write of a wee idea I played with years ago. Using it as writing practice between my main work and for a bit of fun. Will be a F!Courier/Vulpes told from a mix of their perspectives and while as close to 'canon' as possible I will go off it when I like for storytelling purposes and tell it my own way because of course.
(Those here just for smut, so far it's Chapter 11 and Chapter 15 :) Don't worry. I got you. )
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It wasn't the morning Inculta had expected nor the news he had wanted to take back to Caesar, but ever since Nipton, there had been a tension in the air, like the electricity before a lightning storm, and once the pressure broke, it had been a glorious sight. Looking back, he really shouldn't have expected any different.
It was one of those mornings where it had been far too quiet. The wind still to the point of non-existent with not one cloud in sight. Dawn had yet to break over the horizon, the stars dimming in the morning sky with vibrant blue shifting to purples and pinks.
And nothing made a sound. None of the usual morning noise of clattering pots and pans rang out as Legionaries in Nelson tried to cobble something edible together, or commands and insults being yelled over the clanging blades in practice duels. He couldn't even hear animals scurrying around from rock to rock.
The silence of the Mojave desert was deafening, and he didn't like it one bit.
From atop the tower, the barracks at Nelson and the surrounding mountain had a strange surrealness that Inculta couldn't shift, as if they were nothing more than a diorama set out to replicate the real thing; from Nelson below to the NCRs lost cause that was Forlorn Hope and the rotting pile of enemy bodies on the No Man's Land in-between. A mere play toy.
"There's only been one problem. If you can even call it that." said Alexius, biting a chunk out of an apple and motioning across the valley. "That woman. The Courier Six. She's been spotted hovering about Forlorn Hope."
A sneer spread across Inculta's face. "Of course she has."
That whore from Nipton with hair like a Mojave sunset and eyes like the mountain ranges, dressed in a ridiculous blue vault suit as if attempting to make herself look like a soft and sweet New Vegas tourist.
What he wouldn't give to go back in time and strap a bomb collar to that pretty little neck and drag her back to the Fort, kicking and screaming if he had to.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound concerned, Alexius."
Alexius choked. "No! Of course not! I never meant we couldn't deal with the woman just that-"
"Just what, Decanus?"
He stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure. "I'll send out some men to keep an eye on Forlorn Hope. Just in case she tries anything."
"Good." Inculta crooned. "You see to the Courier's capture and Lord Caeser will reward you well."
Alexius smiled wide, but it was gone in a second, hidden behind the cold Legion facade.
"Just doing my duty, Master Inculta."
"Be sure you do Alexius."
Vulpes looked back to the valley, his jaw set tight as he dug his nails into his palm to keep from pacing.
He should have known she was going to be a problem from the moment she stepped into Nipton, wandering around like an aimless molerat in the Wastes. Her bright blue jumpsuit stood out like a sinner in church among the sea of crimson flags, and the wild golden bonfire Nipton had become. From afar, she looked too delicate to be any kind of mercenary or caravanner, but the dark stains splashed against the blue suit clearly weren't her own; the large blade on her hip coated in red and the pistol on her belt too close to be a mere prop to deter Fiends.
Oh, how she had looked at him, though. Wide-eyed like he was some sort of coyote, afraid yet curious and oh so aroused as he circled and tried to get her to understand even a little what the lesson at Nipton was - only for her to break into a smile when she heard what they had done to the Powder Gangers.
The Powder Gangers had hurt some town, she told him. Disabled some very young kids with their bombs, they left lying around. She wanted them maimed for it, but dead was even better. Tortured to death even better than that. It mattered little to him her reasoning, but the expression of joy in her face didn't leave his head for days.
Courier's are useful, he told himself. A tool. It was for the Legion. And the next thing he knew, she had spread the story of Nipton to the Mojave Outpost as he'd asked, where spread faster than a sexual disease through the whores at Gomorrah. Like a good little Courier, he'd thought.
Such potential.
Then she had to go and ruin the good thing they had shared by playing hero with the Bear, which was only the beginning of his disappointment in her.
Non-stop reports of attacks on stations, parties, undercover operatives, freeing slaves and anything else that would weaken Legion hold East of the Colorado River. Everything the NCR had failed to even try to attempt, she would do, as the NCR's failure was little more than a challenge for her to do better.
Yet, despite the reports, something about it didn't sit right. It was as fake as the smiles at the Ultra-Luxe, and Inculta wasn't about to let the Legion be brought down by some fraudulent saviour and her artificial smiles.
The vibrant orange sun rose higher above the horizon, sending beams of lights across the glittering sands but plumes of smoke disrupted the scene, rounds of dark dyed cotton packed on top of each other until they could no longer support themselves, toppling back over and around the roof of Nelson Barracks near the square.
Then the same way lightning is heard before it is seen, he heard the crackle and snapping of the wood and the stink of a pyre made from whatever the degenerates had gotten their hands on blew over them in a dark a noxious cloud, burning their eyes.
Alexius covered his nose and leaned over the rail. "What-?"
It was over with faster than he would have hoped or expected for a Legion controlled barracks. It would be embarrassing if it hadn't been Dead Sea's.
Gunfire cracked across the silent wasteland, deafening explosions reverberating off the rocks and between buildings. Soldiers on both sides roaring orders in Latin and English across the camp. Flashes of crimson uniform stumbling out of the barracks, half-dressed, only to crumple into the dirt before they could take another step - the sound of the sniper shot following seconds behind. Legion soldiers who managed to escape the holdings did without much armour or weaponry, scattering rather than stay in formation. A few made an attempt, but NCR soldiers closed in quick, slashing and cutting them down and separating them again.
The same NCR soldiers they had supposedly spent months breaking.
The ones Dead Sea had claimed weren't even an issue anymore.
It was enough to bring a twisted smile to Inculta's face. An amusing and fitting end to all Dead Sea's bravado. As if Dead Sea was making up for all the orders and advice he had ignored by failing spectacularly and right in front of Vulpes eyes.
Serves you right you weak-minded, cowardly pric-
Then he saw her. In the midst of it all.
It shouldn't have been a surprise. It made sense for Nelson to be on her list of targets. Another notch on the bed she shared with the Bear.
She was still in that ridiculous Vault Tech jumpsuit, but it had been upgraded, with heavy leather bindings covering any weak points. It didn't take away from how foolish she looked in it. Even if it and those glorious expressions of hers had been the culprits behind his mind running wild while he was alone in his tent. The way her curves filled it out around the hips and chest, wondering how soft her thighs would feel wrapped tight around his waist, the sounds she would make when he sucked on her-
He heard her over the gunfire, encouragement and orders as she stormed the town with them. While most had gone to attack the rest of the camp, several NCR soldiers stuck to her like super glue, making sure to shoot, decapitate and gut any Legion officer that came within killing distance.
"Ad aciem!" Alexius shouted, dropping his fruit and wiping his hands clean. "Celer-"
The men rushed to obey the command and form the battle lines, but Vulpes raised a hand.
"Consiste." And they halted.
"Sir?"
She was so violent in her kills, every move intense and severe as if she was trying to build up enough force to cut their limbs from their bodies with one swing of her blade. It seemed almost wrong he was getting such a view for free. Nigh perverse to witness the way her muscles tensed and tightened with each thrust of her blade, sweat dripping from her forehead and her face twisted into an animalistic rage. Like a wild beast massacring an enemy nest, and he couldn't look away. He had to see how it ended. How his beast came out at the end.
"Dead Sea was aware of the trials this position would cost him," Vulpes said. "Surrounded by mountains, Nelson was always going to be a dangerous position to defend. This is his time to prove to Lord Caesar he can keep it."
The men behind didn't say a word; they looked to Alexius, who confirmed the order.
Alexius cleared his throat and stood tall, but he still looked like a child playing leader with a round face holding too much youthful fat and peach fuzz for facial hair.
"Sir what if we ambush them from behind? Take them by surprise?"
A thin smirk pulled across Inculta's face. Wondering if his own commander had seen the same child before him when he had tried to pull the very thing all those years ago.
"And if they've left soldiers behind just for that eventuality?"
"Well…"
"If you're going to question me, at least ensure you have a better plan."
He flinched but held his ground. "I-"
"Dead Sea believed he could hold Nelson despite its strategic shortcomings. Believed he had ground the will of the NCR soldiers within Forlorn Hope to dust. He believed he had broken them beyond all measure and that they were easy targets." He stepped closer, enough to almost be whispering into the Decanus' ear. Alexius looked ahead, jaw set. "Do they look broken to you?"
Legionaries lay sprawled across the dirt and sand. Body upon body piling up - dumped like soiled rags. Among the sea of red lay the odd tanned uniform with the mark of the Bear but not enough. A group of NCR pulled one of the remaining Legion men into the square, laughing at the cries from the boy. Sixteen if Vulpes remembered right. Sent to Dead Sea's camp as he was a lost cause, not fit for anything more than washing uniforms. Too soft. Not that anyone but Vulpes knew that.
The crosses at the square lay empty, the men that had been nailed to them freed. Alexius opened his mouth to say something, but before he could try the soldiers yanked the boy up, cheers following. Blood stained the stone below and dripped down to the sand. His feet almost hanging loose where they had stopped hacking at the back of his ankles.
Alexius flinched, his knuckles white and shook his head to answer Inculta's question.
Vulpes continued.
"You may want to send your men on a suicide mission but I refuse to do so," Inculta said. "When they die in battle, it will be in one worthy of them and of Mars. Not to help Dead Sea repair his disgraced name. Dead Sea was the one who promised Lord Caesar Forlorn Hope. Swore the Bears soldiers would be ground into the Mojave earth before the month's end. If he can't defend the town with the supplies and troops he has then Nelson falls. One extra Contubernium and their Decanus will not change that."
Alexius didn't respond. He watched the horror below with a calm Vulpes knew all too well.
"Guard the tower," Vulpes told the other men. "If they do choose to start a fight at least be ready for them."
They didn't look to Alexius this time.
"That anger, the rage inside," he said to the Decanus. "Hold onto it. And remember this when facing down the NCR and their ilk. But also remember this is a mistake caused by Dead Sea's hubris. It can be avoided."
Alexius focused on Nelson, his lips pressed together tight and eyes dark, near devoid of light.
Vulpes grinned.
Empty buildings and a burning pyre were all that was left by the time the fighting ended. It was a town laid waste, and with the morning sun, it bloomed into glorious flames.
The truth was it had been a terrible choice for a camp from the start. It had confused even Lanius when he saw the NCR had taken it. He didn't believe it worth the effort, even with it being near the Colorado River, and Vulpes for once agreed with the man. Stuck in a valley made it easy to surround and hard to defend. He only had to look at it and its position once to know Nelson would be a never-ending string of sieges and a waste of soldiers, time and resources.
Dead Sea just saw opportunity. Clearly spending too much time thinking of reasons why he should take Nelson, he never considered the reasons he shouldn't. Perhaps the Courier's show would be a good lesson in Legion hubris for any other Decanus like Dead Sea. Show them the fire the Gods would bring down upon them if they flew too close to the sun.
Some of Alexius' men requested to move on ahead to Cottonwood Cove. Let Caesar know about Nelson's fall, but Caesar would know in time if the smoke wasn't already visible from the Fort.
A glint caught Inculta's eye, the glare of the sun hitting glass.
They had strung another man upon the other crucifix in the square. Something felt wrong, almost as if he forgot something or someone.
Then he spotted the Courier with a sniper rifle trained on him and he realised what it was.
Alexius and another soldier grabbed Vulpes and pulled him down. He pushed against their prying grasp, eyes searching wildly for the Courier.
The light reflected again.
Vulpes ordered them to stand down.
Her mongrel red beret friend wouldn't have let the light reflect like that and she wouldn't be so stupid as to shoot.
Again the light reflected, and she peaked, looking above the scope.
The light of the dawn with the fire roaring in the backdrop did a lot for her. Brilliant in its orange and red, it set her strawberry blonde hair alight. It had come loose from her hair tie in the mayhem, a mass of hair that waved and curled in whichever direction it pleased and reached a blunt cut at her shoulders.
He could just see her expression, a brow that sat heavily on a face he swore the Gods must have made just for him. So expressive. So easy to read. It had been a treat to watch her squirming turn to delight and pride by the end of their short time in Nipton. He wished he could see it better standing atop the tower. See each muscle twitch and the fire in her eyes. The scorching anger.
He stepped back, grinding his teeth hard.
Turn away, you fool. Don't give her the attention she wants.
Would she even remember him? Recall the garb of the Frumentarii, the Vexillarius helmet of a coyote head and truly believe it was him standing there under the goggles? Watching her just like he had before. He turned away and said to Alexius.
"Best we discuss our-"
A shot rang out and skimmed the top of his helmet.
The ground gave way underneath him. The men yanking him back down, and before he even had a moment, Alexius called out the more orders in Latin.
Get her.
"Don't move!" Vulpes shouted.
"Sir-"
"That was an order!"
She didn't fire a second time. The rifle back in the hands of the mongrel by the time Vulpes got to his feet.
He held his breath.
Forlorn troops dragged the captive out to her.
Vulpes should have known.
He was grotesque, face broken and bloodied beyond recognition. With each tug and shove forward, the Decanus cried like a whimpering bitch, making sure it was loud enough to be heard even with the busted lip that split down his chin. What was left of his blond hair was stuck in matted clumps to his bloodied scalp.
Vulpes had seen unbroken whelps with more pride.
Blood trailed from where someone had taken an axe and attempted to hack off his feet, black and smearing all over the dust and sand. With every kick of an NCR soldier, he collapsed and sobbed harder. Dead Sea's armour and helmet had been relieved from him, leaving him in undergarments stained a berry red and brown. Vulpes had seen slaves with robes the same colour after being lashed within an inch of their life, then put back out to carry enough load on the very backs that had just been beaten.
The Courier just stood. Waiting and watching the tower. Watching Vulpes.
They pulled Dead Sea over a large stone boulder. Two soldiers holding him down by his arms. Biting, kicking, clawing, spitting, Dead Sea struggled against the men, but they didn't shift.
He made to sure to hurl every insult and curse that had ever been uttered from his lips to the soldiers holding him down - to the Courier ordering it. From screams and pleas for forgiveness and mercy, demands of freedom before he went right back to calling the Courier every name for a whore and slut he could think of in Latin. Insults that would put even Silus to shame.
How pathetic.
Vulpes should have saved everyone the inconvenience and thrown him from the Grand Canyon months ago.
The fire billowed behind her, rising higher.
The Courier removed the machete from her belt and held it right above her head like some kind of trophy. It took him a moment to really see it. To know what he was looking at. If he wasn't in company, he would have genuinely howled with laughter.
He could picture it. How Dead Sea would have screamed at her when she removed his prized Liberator from his person, his face contorted into the fury of a wild animal that he would believe looked so intimidating.
Had she been the one who'd done that to his face? To his ankles? After he demanded she not touch the blade? To show he had no power anymore? Had she enjoyed it? Hitting him until she heard something, anything, crack. Until her knuckles bled and arm bruised?
He chewed on the inside of his lip.
"W-ulpes Inculta!" she shouted.
The words set off a mine inside his chest. His knuckles white around the railing pipes.
Fuck.
"Hoc est exemplum."
This is your object lesson.
A tight conceited smile spread across his face. He tried to hold it back, but there was only so much he could do before the smug satisfaction broke through and was all over his face.
The men muttered to each other, then to Vulpes, asking how she had spoken their language, but it was little more than white noise.
When she claimed she admired the purity of the Legion's justice, admired the lesson he taught in Nipton, part of him thought she had been saying anything just to get away from him. Anything to make him happy enough to just leave.
But this.
Oh, my dear Courier...You shouldn't have.
The smoke was thick and heavy in the air, rotten on his tongue, and he was rock fucking hard.
Dead Sea called to him. His voice as grating and pitiful as he remembered. "Vulpes? Vulpes, help m-"
Dead Sea's own machete came down on his neck like a hammer. His screams ending with a blood-filled gurgle that made Vulpes grin. The Decanus bucked and flailed, the blade embedded in bone and muscle.
Bet you wish you sharpened the blade now, you arrogant little shit.
One of the men behind him screamed she was an NCR whore.
Vulpes squashed down the urge to throw him over the tower.
She yanked it out, and blood splattered up and over her jumpsuit and face like Raider warpaint. Not even a flinch, and she swung the blade down.
Again.
And again.
The head tumbled from his neck.
Stringy. Pulpy.
His sinew and blood covered her. He couldn't tell if she was staring at him or at the tower in its entirety, but Gods for a moment, it felt as if it was just her and him in the entire Mojave. As if her eyes were burning into him, setting his skin aflame with holy hellfire. Something so raw, so primal. Craving.
Dead Sea's head rolled in the sand and dirt. She grasped it by its hair, holding it up for everyone to see.
"Kai-zar postero!"
Vulpes spine straightened.
Caesar is next.
She threw the head behind her into the pyre.
Light work was made of the rest of the bodies till nothing was left of the others but bits of charred body and ash.
He sent everyone else down to watch for any attacks while he kept an eye on the burning camp and on the Courier's next big performance.
The NCR soldiers swarmed her. Hugs, kisses, handshakes and the respectful nod from those less willing to show so much affection. She hugged them back, squeezing tight and giving words of encouragement, no doubt with that big toothy grin of hers that made him feel sick to see.
It was like a New Vegas show where the girls put on that one smile, far too large and too bright to be authentic.
Then it was as if something hit her. She spun towards the burning pyre again as if she had caught sight of something, like an insect or a bright light. Her mongrel friend didn't notice her wander off from the group. Several soldiers did, though, but she just reassured them with a smile, only for it to turn downwards once they looked away.
With each step, it was as if a part of her was pulled out. Her brow heavy and her complexion turning almost ashen. She pressed her palms into the hollows of her eyes, but whatever the image was, it still there when she opened them. She stared at her hands, stained with blood, to the pyre then back - to the bodies upon bodies burning on it.
Her jumpsuit did little to help her, only smearing the stains around till it was more red than blue. As red as the Legion armour and Dead Sea's machete still tucked into her belt, stained with the blood of its previous owner.
She ran over to the water pump and shoved her hands under running water, rubbing them hard to try and remove the stains.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The water ran clear, but again she pushed the lever for the pump down and washed them.
The mongrel found her at the pump ten minutes later. Had to drag her away.
Vulpes cackled.
It was almost going to be too easy.
She would be the Legion's perfect object lesson.
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