Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air was cold that night. Instead of being crammed under her warm bed sheets, Emily had snuck out of the tower. She would be at the edge of Rudshore, looking up at the tall abandoned mansion which she had discovered a couple of months ago. It felt so much more than just a few months though, Emily felt that the last time she had visited the mansion, she was a mere child, one who was filled with innocence and knew nothing of the real world. She specifically remembered writing about the place in her diary, how she would plan to visit it with Wyman, maybe turn it into a haunted house beforehand. Wyman. They barely wrote to each other anymore, not nearly as much as they used to. After the events involving Delilah, he claimed that something inside her had changed. That she wasn’t the same Emily whom he once knew.

At first, Emily was upset with him, but she came to realize that he was certainly right. She had become someone else. As much as Emily wanted to shake the thought off, she was here to revisit the past. She didn’t remember much from when she had last visited the abandoned mansion, but it seemed smaller. Halting at the large rusty gates, Emily easily far reached through a large gap in the center. She didn’t expect to find anything remarkable, it was most likely in the same condition just as she had last visited. Emily walked through the path where two large doors once sat, now it was just a door frame. She would take a quick glance around the inside, it heavily reminded her of Aramis Stilton's manor, but it wasn’t nearly as great.

“I was going to turn this place into a haunted house.” She would say to herself, furrowing her eyebrows as she made her way around the first floor. Emily felt odd, almost as if someone was there with her. She let her guard down, shaking her head. It was an abandoned mansion, not a shocker that it was giving her the creeps. Just as she was going to press on, Emily would hear shuffling behind her. In less than a second, she whipped her head back and pulled her half-butterfly knife, half-switchblade out. Her eyes danced around the room before landing on an old antique cabinet which had laid on the floor. It was where the sound seemed to come from. All of a sudden, a figure could be spotted crawling out from behind the cabinet, quickly shuffling onto its feet before scurrying off. It ran into the room where Emily had just come from.

Emily would grunt, chasing after the person. They had on a thick black cloak which slightly draped onto the floor from behind them as they ran. Once she made it back into the room where she originally was, Emily’s eyes shot up to the staircase, seeing the person already halfway up the stairs. She wasted no time, chasing after them quickly. Emily rushed up the stairs, they felt shaky and unstable. As if they’d break at any moment. One of her legs would press down against a step too hard, the thin wood would break instantly, gasping in surprise, Emily quickly pulled her leg back up, continuing the chase. Once she made it to the second floor, she would spot the stranger running down the long hallway. That was their first mistake, it gave her a clear shot at them. Emily reached her hand out, precisely aiming her far reach at them. Once releasing, the person would fly backwards. Emily would catch the stranger, choking them for a moment before throwing them to the floor. The hood of their cloak had fallen off from being tossed around by her. She slowly approached the person, her weapon ready in her right hand.

She would crouch down in front of the cloaked man, putting the blade of her sword against his neck. Though his hood had fallen off, Emily still couldn't see his face. He kept his head lowered on purpose. “Coward.” She would simply say, keeping her blade perfectly still. One wrong move and the stranger would have to deal with the same fate he did over a millennium ago. After what felt like an eternity of treacherous silence, he would speak. “It’s interesting, I never expected my own gift to be used against me…” The stranger would observe.

Chapter Text

Emily was frozen in place like a statue, her mind was having trouble accepting the thought. It was indeed, the Outsider. Though his voice wasn’t nearly as ‘godly’, it was unmistakably him. She detested herself for reacting in such a way. She was not afraid of the Outsider back then, and she wasn’t now either. While all these thoughts were rushing through her head, Emily cut out all of her surroundings. She failed to notice the Outsider himself.

Smug as a god, smug as a human. Some things never seemed to change. The Outsider would smirk at her reaction, he carefully tipped down the blade on his throat with his pointer finger. He considered himself lucky for not being a victim to one of those brutal executions he once watched her do to enemies. “Speechless?” He presumed. Seeing she was still a bit taken aback, the Outsider took the time to sit up and dust himself off, still on the ground where she had thrown him.

After finally reclaiming her thoughts, Emily would speak. Regardless of all her thinking, she had not much to say. “You…” She would barely voice. Her focus almost came back until she looked into his eyes once he finally raised his head. Emily expected to be met with those pitch black, melancholic eyes. She was stunned to find there to be pale green, glass like eyes instead. Not only that, the Outsider looked to be more frail, maybe alive even?

The Outsider wasn’t the only one who seemed dramatically different, Emily had changed too. Though her physical appearance remained the same, she gave off a sad and pained aura. Her eyes expressed ceaseless mourning. Not like how she used to be when they had first met. The world hadn’t been kind to her. The two of them both seemed to account for all the changes in one another, not uttering a single word. Time would pass, and Emily would eventually grab the Outsiders arm with a firm grip, pulling him up to his feet.

Emily managed a sad chuckle, it left the Outsider confused. In spite of him knowing what empress’ next words would be, the way she pronounced them, it left the Outsider Intrigued. It was nothing out of the ordinary, her voice was calming and soft as it had always been, maybe he just missed her tender sounding way of speaking. He was human for long enough to understand what yearning for someone meant again. “So, you’re human again. How-” She would be quickly interrupted by him. “Billie Lurk.” The way he spoke made it clear he wasn’t interested in sharing the details, so Emily didn’t push it.

The air seemed less rigid now that the two had gotten out their first few words. Emily would put her hand gently against the Outsiders cheek, looking into his eyes. It was so strange to see him like this. She was so close that he could nearly feel her breaths on his face. Emily had never touched him before, she doubted he would’ve ever let her do so. But, no longer was he a god. His eyes would dance around hers, the last he had seen the empress so curious was when he had first pulled her into the void, offering his mark to her. “You’ve changed. You look frail, your terrible eyes are gone, and….” She leaned her face moderately closer to his, whispering now. “You are vulnerable.” Emily would beam before backing off, her hand now back at her side.

The two had many questions for one another, and they had yet to ask away. The Outsider would turn around, walking in the other direction. He headed down the hallway in which he originally was running for his life in. Emily would take the hint, following after him, joining his side. “You say I’ve changed, I could say the same about you. Not for a moment do I remember you being as violent as you are now or having such a sad glint in your eyes.” Emily would sadly smile at his words. “I don’t think anyone could come out of that the same. Not me, at least.” She referred to defeating Delilah, more so on killing everyone who came in her path. “I suppose I wasn’t clever enough to take back my throne without spilling a river of blood.” Emily reminded him, it was one of the first things he had told her. The Outsider watched her from the corner of his eye, tilting his head.

Were his words what upset her? Though he felt condolence, the Outsider didn’t act on it. He had a strong affinity towards the empress, he didn’t feel as such before. Instead of comfort, he offered her something else which could’ve maybe lifted her spirits. “Maybe it was for the better.” As corrupt and twisted as his words came out, they made her smile. He somehow managed to make Emily feel better about slaughtering dozens.

“What is your cause for being here?” He would inquire. The two of them advanced down the hallway. Neither of them had the slightest idea as to where exactly they were headed. As all things, the hallway soon came to an. They both came to an abrupt halt, looking down below. It seemed that the once floor had broken down, below them being there a room. Emily would jump down, landing on the ground in a crouch. She would stand up before dusting her coat off. The Outsider would follow her movements, except he didn’t care much for dirtying his cloak. “There are a plethora of reasons.” She claimed. “I suppose if I were to narrow it down to one, it’d be that I’m reminiscing over the past.”

The Outsider gave her a nod before walking by her side to stand alongside her. Her eyes seemed to be entranced with the spinning of an old fashioned globe, spinning it with her palm whenever it threatened to stop. Although he didn’t know much of psychology itself, it was noticeable that she was avoiding his gaze. The Outsider would smile, suddenly getting an idea. He knew for a fact that she’d get a kick out of this one. He would place his hand on her shoulder which caused her to stop spinning the rusty globe.

“I have an idea.”

Chapter Text

The two of them would stroll around the outskirts of the mansion, both pairs of eyes wandering around the unfamiliar site, taking in the strange beauty. The more Emily would think, it was only becoming increasingly apparent of how little the Outsider had told her about himself, but she was clever, she knew better than to squeeze it all out of him at once. Finally breaking the lack of eye contact she had been avoiding for so long, Emily turned to look at him, finding the Outsider to be consumed with his surroundings. From the looks of it, he wasn’t elaborating anytime soon on the idea he had mentioned earlier. “So, an idea. You’ve led me all the way out here, what are you playing at?” Her tone was low and cautious, trust wouldn’t come easy. The Outsider would look back at her, his expression looking stuck. “In the void, I had plenty of time to think. My marked played by my rules, I could get back to them when I best saw fit. I’m starting to doubt coming here.” Normally, seeing the Outsider flustered would be an amusing sight to witness, but the empress had no glee to spare. She couldn’t understand his point for the life of her, maybe he didn’t have one. “I hope you don’t expect me to understand.” She sounded defeated. “I don’t expect anything from you.” He lied.

“You need time to think. After all, you are human.” There was no emotion in her voice, just stating the obvious. The truth stung him harder than it should’ve, but he kept a straight face. The Outsider wasn’t ready to open up, and he knew it would be like this for some time to come. Faint lights far beyond lit up the sky dimly, there was nothing else besides the lights, making it a challenge to see. Twigs and dry leaves crunched below their feet, just barely keeping the air from having any more of an awkward silence than it already did. “Where are you staying?” She wanted to push further and ask if it was safe, holding herself back for unknown reasons. It took the Outsider a moment, his eyes slowly darting to the side as if he were coming up with an answer on the spot. “The Estate District.” He was on the verge of mumbling. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Oh? Th-” He was quick to interrupt her. “In an unoccupied building.” That answered her earlier question, safe by no means. Emily furrowed her eyebrows, clearly frustrated. His frail appearance, shaky hands, pale face, they agitated her. The thought at the back of her head was practically screaming at her to be considered, she was trying to find a reason to do so, to listen. Losing the battle against herself, a short sigh escaped her lips.

“The tower. You can stay at Dunwall Tower.” Her voice was firm, it was clear she had made up her mind. The Outsider would stop walking, Emily pausing next to him. He turned to fully face her, not a hint of consideration on his face. They were both stubborn, it came down to who had a stronger will. “Is this really what you want, empress? The Outsider living among the walls of your home.” He was almost frowning, his pale green eyes displaying most of his emotion. “What I want is for you to tell me how you ended up like this, and to live peacefully for what days you have left.” She argued back. The Outsider let out a weak chuckle. “And then?” He sneered. Emily was left confused, pushing further. “And then…?” She spoke with a curious tone. He sighed. “You take me into your castle, listen to the only thing I have left to spare, my story , and then what?” She pressed her lips together tightly, huffing. “I haven’t thought that far.” She lost, this time. There were no more leaves or twigs crunching, just silence, maybe the sound of flowing water, it was hard to tell. They could no longer see each other's expressions, the dim lights doing them justice no more. In a sense, they were both stuck, and with all her effort, Emily couldn’t understand why he declined her offer. Their perspectives were like day and night.

The Outsider really had not considered her offer in the slightest, his mind clouded with whispers from the void and the sheer thought of Emily. He would be able to share things with the world, change it, and these changes wouldn't be viewed badly without second thought, because nobody would view him as the Outsider anymore. All this and he would be safe, no one coming for his head. “Okay.” He caved in. “Okay?” Emily questioned. “I accept your offer.” The Outsider looked to the side. Her eyes would light up like that of a child when receiving a box of chocolates. Adjusting her demeanor, she spoke again. “What made you change your mind?” Pausing for a moment, he offered her an aloof answer. “I want to last longer than two days.” It wasn’t what Emily was looking for, but he had already pleased her enough, not wanting to push the boundaries any further, not in a single day. There was still a lot to work though, something which was inhabiting both their minds was how the Royal Protector would receive the news. Emily would walk ahead, he didn’t follow after her. Pausing, she would turn around.

“I’m guessing you don’t have much experience with jumping over rooftops.”

Chapter Text

Seeing the empress go through so much trouble just to help him felt like a brutal kick to the gut, yet the Outsider didn’t show his emotions in the slightest, far too occupied on keeping up with Emily, but the thought still lingered, consuming him slowly. The Outsider could in fact, not jump from rooftop to rooftop, following her while she was speed walking didn't prove to be any less of a challenge. His body didn’t feel ready for yet another expedition, it wasn’t too long ago when he traveled from the Estate District all the way to Rudshore.

The street carried a creepy aura, with that came a sense of tranquility, like the cool morning breezes in Aventa. Very few civilians roamed the streets this late into the night, just enough for Emily and the Outsider to remain vigilant, the two were just ahead of the Clock Tower, having to circle around the Boyle Mansion to avoid any encounters with guards. They’d been walking for what felt like hours, the Outsider felt as if his legs were being pricked by a thousand tacks at once, his abdomen tightening.

Emily halted very suddenly, whipping her head towards him. He was just barely behind her, shooting her a questioning glance, hiding the relief he felt from the unexpected stop. “Are you alright? You’ve been breathing very heavily.” She questioned. Had he? He never noticed. The Outsider nodded without much consideration, not wanting to delay their arrival to Dunwall Tower. There had been absolutely no exchange in words between the two during the entirety of the walk, he couldn't tell if he was grateful or anxious over the thought.

Emily crossed her arms in response, not convinced. She expected his words, needed them. Her unspoken words left him bothered, but saying “I’m fine” was more than a fair exchange for getting into a comfortable bed faster. “I’m…. finn-nnghhh.” The words escaped his mouth in a slurred manner and his vision started to blur. Emily’s expecting expression switched to a concerned one, eyebrows furrowing. She inched towards the Outsider, placing her hands onto his shoulders, she looked into his faded green eyes.

The Outsider took this as permission to give into the sudden lethargy he felt, collapsing. Emily’s grip on his shoulders tightened intensely to keep the Outsider from falling onto the cold concrete. Looks like his body could only handle so much. The trip home wouldn’t be nearly as unhurried now, luckily. Emily placed the Outsider down carefully so she could easily swing him over her right shoulder, his lack of weight was expected, but still left her aghast. She used her Far Reach to pull herself onto a sturdy awning above a small safe shop which was closeby, making it onto a rooftop from there.

Despite his light weight, it wasn’t easy to carry the Outsider around while jumping about, Emily found it a shame that he passed out when they were fairly close to reaching their destination. She paused for a moment, able to see the top half of the tower from where she stood, it motivated her to go on just a bit furthur. She glanced throughout the area before pulling herself and the Outsider onto a roof across the street. The cold breeze washed against her face before she landed firmly onto the rooftop, from there she climbed up a few structures, finally reaching the outer door to her safe room. Emily noted it wasn’t very empress like of her to slouch up against the door and take a second to breathe.

Soon enough, she stood up to push her signet ring into the lock and twist it open, greeted with the familiar room inside. Wasting no time, she locked the door before carefully tossing the Outsider onto a fancy sung bed, sitting down on a chair next to where he laid unconscious. Her exhaustion put a pause to her racing thoughts, sleep being the only thing lingering in her mind. Emily leaned back in the sturdy chair, convincing herself she would only close her eyes for five minutes and then be off to her own bed, not like there was only two hours left until sunrise.

--------------------------

She woke up quite suddenly, the first thought in her mind was the Outsider, she looked towards the bed, expecting to find him in the same position she left him, but he was gone.

Emily practically jumped out of her seat, the chair stumbled a bit before sitting still again. She assumed the worst, he ran away. Or maybe Corvo found him? She hadn’t been awake for over a minute and her heart was already pounding out of her chest, she felt herself warming up. Emily took her coat off, tossing it onto the bed, she was left in her waist jacket. She took a deep breath, just about dashing out of the small room only to freeze as soon as she passed the door frame. She found the Outsider sitting by a small desk, reading aloud a letter written to Emily by Wyman.

He sounded slightly less feeble than he did on the previous night as he read the letter, “It makes me happy that I know your real face, the one th-” She quickly snatched the letter out of his frail hands, staring at him with a look of immense hatred. “So you’ve made yourself at home, maybe a little too much.” Emily narrowed her eyes at him, placing the letter on the side of the desk, knowing he wouldn’t read it again. At least, not in her presence. Her eyes darted to a nearby grandfather clock, then back at the Outsider. “I will be eating breakfast soon, you will meet with my father then.” She grinned at him, almost like she wasn’t as nervous as he was. It was as if she had come up with the decision on the spot, which was partially true.

“And if he chooses to pierce my center with his stinging sword?” There was no hint of fear in his tone as he looked up at her from the desk chair. “My father wouldn’t do that.” She didn’t look nearly as confident as she sounded, avoiding contact with his eyes. Emily reluctantly pulled herself away from the desk, making her way up the stairs, she expected him to follow behind her since she needed to lock the door on her way out. She grasped the railings at the top of the staircase, looking down below at the Outsider, cocking her head to the side. It took him a moment, not to take the hint, but to have confidence. He gave the letter a final glimpse before standing up and leading himself up the stairs, holding onto the handle on the side with his left hand due to his excruciating leg pain he failed to provide attention to.

The Outsider met Emily at the top of the staircase, pausing next to her in front of the main door to the safe room. She lent him a lenient stare, he gave her a simple nod, as if he were granting her approval to continue. His stomach lurched at the thought of meeting the Royal Protector, would he be beaten to a bloody pulp? What if he was handed over to the Abbey? Maybe the empress is using him for information and is truly cruel and insincere. What seemed to be the Outsider’s ceaseless thoughts were put to an abrupt end when he felt Emily’s hand intertwine with his, feeling a gentle squeeze.
“Have courage.” She simply said, reassuring him more than she was aware. His eyes spoke for him, giving Emily undeniable permission to open the door.

She pushed her signet ring into the lock, twisting it open.

Chapter Text

Emily shifted uncomfortably under the Outsider’s gaze, he watched her a little too closely for comfort. Meanwhile, his meal sat untouched in front of him, his lack of hunger took her by surprise. He was no child, she didn’t bother asking him to eat. His nervousness showed clearly on his face, the Outsider seemed far too occupied calming himself mentally to focus on hiding his emotion. Emily had told the maids they had a special guest over, and no one dared to question her on the subject. Finished with her cornbread, a servant took away Emily’s crum decorated plate.

The morning was young, the streets of Dunwall were beginning to fill with life. Corvo had left the tower early in the morning to deal with business, this fact relieved the Outsider, it meant more time to prepare. The two of them headed down a long hallway, Emily was leading him to his temporary bedroom. Her eyes were filled with curiosity, this caught the Outsider’s attention. She suddenly snapped out of her thoughts after feeling his gaze. Emily decided to vocalize her thoughts to kill the silence.

“Why would the void guide you to Rudshore? More importantly, why my exact destination?” Everytime she would come up with an answer, logic would shut it down. But then again, reason doesn’t work in the void. Emily didn’t want to accept the idea that the Outsider was meant to meet her, it irked her. “I’d learned to stop questioning the oddity of the void a long time ago.” The Outsider spoke, his tone deadpan. Instead of hitting him with a snarky remark, Emily stated the obvious. “We’re here.”

She pushed the door open, revealing the interior. Dust lingered in the air, making it clear the room hadn’t been in use for a long time. As far as Emily knew the Outsider, she felt the room suited him well. It was quite plain. A bed sat at the corner of the bedroom, a desk on the opposite end, bookshelves against one side of the wall. Besides a few papers on the desk, it was empty. In the corner next to the desk, a dusty white cloth covered something round. There were two large windows, the view looked dull to Emily, but the Outsider already found himself growing a fondness to it.

“I’ll have someone bring you clothes, you will be called once Corvo arrives back to the tower.” Emily still had a hectic schedule, not having much time to spare. “Will you be alright?” She questioned. The Outsider turned his head away from the view outside, staring at the empress. Familiar silence filled the room, the two of them looked intensely into one another's eyes. He reluctantly gave her a small nod, knowing she would leave him alone once he did so, and that thought bothered him. Emily lent him a polite smile, closing the door on her way out. Now he was left alone with his thoughts, which usually never led to anything good.

The window gave a clear view to the Wrenhaven River, the dull tones of the landscape beyond him entranced the Outsider. He felt as if there were a thousand screams calling out to him, yet it was completely silent, the air still. As each day passed by, he felt himself losing self control, slipping away into insanity. Maybe the Royal Protector would put him out of his misery, surely this was his fate. The Outsider tried everything he could to convince himself he didn’t need Billie Lurk, but whenever he avoided the truth, the void screamed it out for him. She made him feel comfortable, even though he appreciated being spared from her constant passive aggressive behavior towards him.

A gentle knock on the door startled him, he was quick to twist the handle and pull the door open. Met by nobody, the Outsider looked to the left side of the hallway to see a maid leaving. He looked down to find a very neatly folded set of clothes. Picking up the articles of clothing, he ruined the nicely folded stack. The Outsider took the clothes inside, shutting the door. He laid the outfit down on the bed, taking a closer look. It consisted of a medium length gray frock coat along with a white dress shirt and pair of black overalls. The pristine condition of the clothes left the Outsider almost pleased at the sight. It was nothing like anything he had ever worn before. He changed quickly, not missing the worn out cloak Billie had given him.

He turned his attention towards the dust coated desk by his side, eyes landing on the few papers scattered across the scarred oakwood. Gently, he lifted up one of the worn out notes. It dated back to 1833, containing details on the Hatters Gang. The note had the Outsider interested, if it weren’t for the sudden fatigue he felt, he would’ve continued reading. He began stumbling backwards, being caught by the bed. He didn’t bother readjusting, giving into his tiredness without hesitation, dust particles floated up into the air from the immediate impact, shining from the very small amount of sunlight the room received.

The Outsider shot out of the grimy bed almost as fast as he had collapsed onto it, deafening knocking striking his delicate eardrums. He scrambled out of the bed, breathing heavily. He found himself resting a hand on the nearby window sill to support his weight. He could feel the void present, but not from him. “Hey, are you alright? I can hear you breathing.” The familiar voice of the empress made him calm almost instantly. It wasn’t the first time she had commented on his breathing. Emily invited herself inside, fearing he had fallen unconscious again. To her ease, she saw a worn out Outsider using a window sill for support. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” She commented tartly. To say the least, Emily admired the way he looked in the clothes he was provided with.

Returning to her professional attitude, Emily lowered her voice. “Corvo is waiting for you in the throne room.” To this, the Outsider raised his head, looking towards Emily, a look of worry in his sad eyes. “Does he know?” He questioned. Emily made a hand motion for him to follow, and that he did, closing the door behind himself. “He doesn’t, I didn’t tell him.” Emily sounded eager to get things over with, hating the feeling of fret which wouldn't leave her until the deed was done. The halls of the tower had little to no people, an occasional maid would pass by, offering the empress a curtsy.

The two took an elevator to the rooftop, both of them silent on the ride up. Once the elevator doors parted, they stepped onto the roof. It was cold and slightly windy, this made the Outsider shift uncomfortably, who already dearly missed the comforting warmth of the tower. His coat did a swell job at sheltering him from the harsh cold, not nearly as unbearable as it would be without it. A part of him wanted to stop and look at the view, but he followed behind Emily grievously. He hoped that she would stop at the doors and hold his hand as she did before, but both his palms remained cold.

There stood, next to the empress’ throne, Corvo Attano. His arms crossed, he stood still, his intimidating posture made the Outsider want to hide in his coat. Yet at the same time, he found it humorous that this was the same man he had marked many years ago. Unlike Emily, the Outsider didn’t feel the presence of the void from Corvo, not anymore. The Royal Protector seemed to have his eyes elsewhere, but his head instantly snapped towards the door after hearing footsteps. “Father.” Emily greeted once she arrived closer to her throne. “Emily, is this the guest you spoke of?” His voice was gruff, sounding uninterested in who the empress had brought along. For him, guests meant trouble.

As far as he was informed, this guest was not a noble. Emily nodded in response to his question. “I would like for you to meet him.” Corvo looked away from his daughter, eyes now on the Outsider. He had been watching his body movement, but it was the first time he properly took a look at the stranger's face. As the Outsider had expected, Corvo’s expression had completely twisted after he took a good look. There was no mistaking it, he was looking at the Outsider, no matter the pitch black eyes, he knew who it was.

“Just as I was starting to relax.” Corvo Attano grieved, his tone sinister.

Chapter Text

Her eyes were glued on the old grandfather clock which sat near her desk for so many years now. Emily tried her hardest to get lost, be anywhere but where she was currently, though she never was the type to run from her problems, definitely not ones which hadn’t even come yet. She didn’t take her fathers reaction to the Outsider lightly, earlier she had feared he would react violently, yet it didn’t occur to her how much more daunting it would be when he reacted by being taken aback, even more so than she was when first meeting the Outsider as a mortal being. “Damn.” She mumbled, slamming a fist down onto her desk out of frustration. The papers jumped for a split second, it was the most noise which had been made that night. Emily thought about the Outsider for a moment, she wondered if he was asleep, or maybe staring out into the Wrenhaven River from the large windows in his room.

She mentally scolded herself for even thinking about paying him a visit. Surely she wasn’t the only one who could not find herself to think about anything else but the situation at hand, but Emily found it hard to believe even that. Her worries overtook her with ease, it was a familiar feeling, luckily her demeanor wasn’t easily tainted. Focusing her gaze on the window nearby, she watched the relentless rain pouring down on Dunwall, the familiar skyline not visible. She pursed her lips, not able to remember what specific paperwork she was revising. She gave the work a break, letting her future self have to deal with the clutter of contracts. Giving the edge of her desk a gentle push, Emily distanced herself from the table. Every time she felt herself slipping away from her duties, she always found herself going outside, it was like second nature to her at that point.

Effortlessly pulling on her coat, Emily noticed herself opening the window on the left side of her office before she even knew where she was headed. She swiftly stepped onto the concrete platform outside of her window, being careful not to slip, she was already a master at sneaking around. It wasn’t the first time she headed out in such treacherous weather conditions. She pushed the window closed, not wanting any water to get into the room. It had barely been a minute and Emily already found herself drenched, completely wet from head to toe. Staring at the view provided her with no sense of relief, but the thought that there may have been a chance the Outsider was lost in the same view as her in that very moment gave Emily a unique feeling of comfort. She wanted it to irk her, but couldn't help but savour the emotion. She wanted more from that night, knowing her life would take a turn soon, all because of her.

Slipping right back inside, she left her office faster than she could catch herself. A trail of water left a path behind herself. She knew Corvo would be asleep, not that him being awake was much to worry about. He trusted her to take good care of herself, she managed to give a very clear example of that not too long ago. Though the throne room would be a more civil way to leave Dunwall tower, the safe room was far quicker. Emily glanced down at her signet ring, then up at the entry door to the imperial safe room.

The view was oh-so enticing, but until he felt the rain kissing his skin, the Outsider wouldn’t feel the peace he longed for. It was like his brain didn’t want to recall the day which had just passed, hard to tell whether it was a health related issue or tiredness. The Outsider already knew he was going to go outside, it was the idea of leaving Dunwall tower which intimidated him, the only thing which delayed his leave. Of course, he wasn’t leaving for good, only wishing to clear his mind. He knew better than to leave now. The world was cruel, and he could only imagine returning to Billy if he left, not that the idea fancied him in the slightest. He doubted she was even in Gristol any longer. The Outsider furrowed his eyebrows, stopping himself from thinking such pointless thoughts, knowing it was all an attempt to delay going outside, despite him wanting to leave for a while.

Going out in the rain wearing only a dress shirt wasn’t a good idea, he sloppily pulled on the thick frock coat he had worn during the day, heading out the door with only one arm through a sleeve. It took a minute for the realization to hit, but the Outsider’s expression seemed more deadpan than usual after coming to remember he didn’t know how to navigate through Dunwall tower, it was practically a labyrinth. He took a deep breath, taking the chance, heading down the left of the hallway. He did an alright job at navigating the tower, distracted by an occasional painting. He wondered how Emily felt, spending her life in the tower. A soft thud broke him from his thoughts, knowing it was late, he wondered what the source of the noise was. Or who. Apparently he took all the right turns, because the Outsider was eventually met with two large doors leading out of the tower. It didn’t take long for him to find out where exactly he was, able to see a white gazebo in the distance.

His coat soaked up the rain quickly, along with his hair. It was a terribly cold and uncomfortable feeling, but with the bad came a feeling of relief from being out with nature, in the open. On the west side of the front courtyard was the greenhouse. Curious, the Outsider headed towards it. He could feel something erupt inside of him, it was a small feeling, almost like a burning sensation. And it felt familiar. Once he entered the greenhouse, he started looking around almost immediately. It was obvious people didn’t get much use out of the greenhouse. The inside smelled strongly of moisture and soil, plants taking over the place with vines grasping onto anything they could find around them. There was a large puddle of water on the ground from the open skylight, some rain poured inside. As he explored the small interior, the burning sensation he felt only grew. The void called out to him, he felt it around him. There had to have been a source of some sort. Ahead of him, one of the windows creaked open.

A head poked out of the window, before the slender figure jumped down onto the ground. The empress greeted the former God of the void with the rise of an eyebrow. “I could feel you coming.” The Outsider stated plainly, his voice tired. He could tell she had been running from the sight of her chest rising and falling quickly, she must have come from the other direction. She had been running to blow off some steam, jumping from rooftop to rooftop around the tower led her back to one of its entrances. He desperately wanted to talk about Corvo with her, what happened earlier that day when they had met, but it was hard to find it in him to ask her. Emily carefully picked up a cracked elixir from a nearby counter, a bit of its contents still inside. She examined it closely, her sight of the Outsider blurred behind the glass. Emily placed it down as she spoke, “You found your way outside, impressive. I didn’t expect you to be out here.” She was lying, of course. Emily did expect to find him outside, she just wasn’t sure where.

The Outsider cocked his head to the side, a part of him wished their interactions weren’t so strained. “It wasn’t so bad.” He grinned, his tired eyes looked intently into hers. “Did you come looking for me?” He questioned, half joking. Emily joined his side, pushing open the door behind him open before walking back outside into the rain. He didn’t notice the small smile on her face as she moved. “I bet you would’ve liked that.” He frowned at her response, walking next to her as they left the greenhouse together. Emily knew now would have been a good opportunity to talk about more serious matters, otherwise they would both be walking in silence, thinking of things they wish they had the courage to say. She looked to her side, greeted with the familiar surroundings of the courtyard. “I wanted you to meet with Corvo not only because keeping you hidden wouldn’t be a smart decision, but also because he would know what the next step should be.” She bit her lower lip out of uncertainty. “Turns out, he was just as lost as I am.” Emily went quiet, awaiting his response. He’d need to speak up more than usual, the sound of rain would easily drown out his somber tone. “You’re in a rush to do something about me. Anything but letting me continue to live here without doing much… Why? Why search for the next step when you don’t have to, not a fly harming you.”

Emily didn’t like his response, but he wasn’t wrong. “You’re telling me that you would like to live behind this tower for the rest of your life and not do anything? That's unlike you.” She spoke cautiously, knowing he was one to reply quickly with something sarcastic. The Outsider twiddled his thumbs, keeping his stare ahead. Her words made him sneer, responding after a long pause. “Pardon me, empress. But what exactly do you know about me?” Emily was taken aback by his words, their conversation was entering a dangerous territory. She cleared her throat, pushing away his question with a passive response. “From what I know of you so far, it seems unlike something you’d desire.” She had caught him, and they were both aware of that. Both tried so desperately to take control of the conversation, but they were too quick with responses for their own good. There were continuous attempts to pounce on the other, yet in the end, they were going nowhere.

“My legs ache, this form of mine is...inferior, to say the least.” The Outsider was quick to change the subject, taking things in a more casual direction. “Some training and a fix of diet will help with that scrawny figure of yours.” She replied, her expression less drawn. The Outsider nodded in agreement, though, he didn’t appreciate the word scrawny despite her telling the truth. His body was thin, a bit boney. Everything felt like physical exercise, and if he used a body part for too long, it would begin to ache. He should have told her, aware that she couldn’t read his mind. Guilt slowly ate away at him, he resented the idea of having to make Emily do anything more than she had to for him. What he despised even more was the fact that he even felt guilty, it was her who wanted him to come to Dunwall, she was the one who wanted him to stay. Words bounced around his head, and for the first time, he couldn’t tell who they belonged to. He looked over at Emily. The very person who made him feel so alive, reminded him the most of the void.

A concerned tone filled his ears as the sight of her began to blur. Emily knew what was coming, wrapping an arm around the Outsider’s waist. He wobbled for a moment, it was apparent that he was desperately trying to fight for control over his body, but the vision of the void attacked him relentlessly. He couldn’t tell what he was looking at, or for. His weakness gave in eventually, all his weight pressing onto Emily, luckily she was far from feeble. She held him carefully, his hair brushing against her cheek. She was grateful for the time, being caught like this would be a wonder to explain.

“Not this again.” She sighed.

Chapter Text

Feeling a sharp object poking and prodding against a patch of your skin isn’t the most pleasing feeling to rise up to after falling unconscious, yet that was exactly what the Outsider was experiencing. He sat up slowly, and for a moment the poking ceased, only to continue. He was quick to pull his left leg against his chest, his eyes moving up to gaze with annoyance at whoever was jabbing at his skin. It was an old man with a neat outfit on, one which gave away his career as a medical practitioner. He responded to the Outsider’s annoyed gaze with a short and grainy huff, definitely an unusual way of greeting somebody who had just woken up after losing consciousness. The senior gave his research a break, busying himself with another task on the opposite end of the room.

The absence of the old man picking at his skin brought the Outsider some relief. There was something intriguingly different about him, unlike most humans he had met, his eyes were full of life. It almost seemed as if he had been sheltered from the horrors of the world for the entirety of his life, he had hope in his eyes. He was probably being paid well, there is no such thing as pureness in this crude world, he thought to himself while adjusting his body. The Outsider stepped off of the bed and was greeted with the feeling of his feet pressing against the cold tiled floor. He exited the room which seemed to be used for examination quietly, not wanting to alert the old man.

The sight of the usual banal walls of Dunwall tower provided him with comfort. His skin yearned for some warmth, the Outsider wrapped his arms around one another out of uncertainty as he made his way down a hallway. One which he was sure he’d never been in. Walking around in nothing but shorts didn’t bring him any sense of shame, maybe only if the empress were to see him. Coincidently, that's exactly who he encountered shortly after. The Outsider turned one corner to be greeted by Emily, the two almost bumped right into one another. Her pace was one with urgency. She was not shocked to see him, and it was hard for the Outsider to tell what exactly she was feeling at that moment.

“Did you run away from doctor Charles?” Emily questioned, a hint of amusement in her voice. She looked to be displeased at the same time. The Outsider glanced to the side of the hallway, no longer meeting her eyes. “Who?” His response made her take his arm with a gentle grasp, tugging at it. “Come on, let's get you back in there.” He pulled his arm away as soon as she had tugged at it. “Why are people in this tower so handsy?” He wanted nothing more than to not return into that examination room. The empress held back her offended glare, calming herself as quickly as she had become frustrated. “Nevermind going back, how are you feeling? I was worried earlier.” Her tone softened.

“What exactly was this Charles man looking for?” The Outsider spoke with his mouth partially filled with beans, Corvo hid the fact that it was driving him crazy fairly well. Emily made sure to be careful with her words directed at the Outsider while her father was around, she held up a more deliberate image. “You’ve fallen unconscious two times now. It's no secret your fatigue attacks are linked to the void somehow, I’m hopeful medicine could fix you up, if only a little.” Emily tapped the spoon in her dominant hand against the countertop while she spoke, as if she was lost deep in her thoughts. The Royal Protector broke his long silence at last, voice gruff as usual. His intimidating stare was on the Outsider, obvious his next words were intended for the young man. “You were lucky that little stunt you pulled earlier today in your shorts was only witnessed by Emily.” It seemed Corvo’s untouched meal would only drop in temperature.

The Outsider tilted his head as if being amused from reading an interesting page from a book, whereas the empress sat with a more stern posture than usual. A part of him felt betrayed by the fact that Emily had shared the events from earlier that day with her Royal Protector. “Father.” Emily insisted. Corvo shook his head, softening up upon hearing his daughter's voice. “You know word gets around fast, Emily. What if someone were to see him? We can’t afford to have any unnecessary attention on our guest. There must be new precautions taken to keep him out of the public's eye.” Corvo had more to say, but was swift to stop himself after seeing Emily aggressively place her spoon down. “We are not hiding him.” Her words came with a strong hint of irritation. The Royal Protector was ready to back his argument up. “That's not what I-” Only to be interrupted again.

“Why not keep me under the public's nose?” The Outsider wasn’t asking a question, moreso passively directing the empress and her Royal Protector. Both of them paused, looking at each other. Meanwhile the Outsider seemed intent on continuing his meal. “Time is of the essence, I assume I can trust you with working out the details?” Corvo raised an eyebrow, the lack of presence his hands had on the table made it clear he was done with his meal which had gone untouched. The idea was good, and so he was quick to accept it. Corvo didn’t doubt Emily’s liking towards it. The Outsider nodded in response, aware the question was for him. “I’ll assist him on the more particular details. Thank you, father.” Emily was relieved the air between everyone was significantly less taut.

The day continued as it usually does for Emily, she had to attend many meetings and speak with various people. Most of the time she would end her day off with paperwork, but this evening was different. She found herself pacing around the same three hallways in the tower, working up the courage to pay him a visit. There was a different side of her when she was around him, Emily had noticed this change the very first time they had met after he became human again. In the void she never spoke to him, maybe because his interesting words kept her thinking instead of asking. While pondering, she failed to realize that she had stopped her pacing right in front of his door. A part of her was tempted to use her dark vision, but there was a chance he would feel her doing so. Before Emily could even knock, the door in front of her opened, and she was greeted with a familiar face.

The Outsider held the door open for her to let her in, and so Emily stepped inside. The room hadn’t changed much since her last visit. The only noticeable difference were the countless papers and books cluttered on the old desk. The maids did a fine job in keeping the place tidy. She folded her hands behind her back, hearing him close the door. Her eyes moved to the side, still she couldn't see him. “As I’ve mentioned before, I can sense you when you are near.” He moved to sit at the edge of his bed, looking up at her. The Outsider didn’t question her for stopping by, fearing it’d give the impression he wanted her to leave. “Right, I’m not interrupting anything am I?” She turned around, looking down at him. When he shook his head Emily joined him on the bed. “When you spoke about keeping yourself under the nose of the public, did you think of a place to start?” She asked. The Outsider responded with a shake of his head.

“How about we begin with a name?” Emily could already think of a few. The Outsider knew a name would be a logical starting point, yet he disliked the idea. He had a name, one which he had long forgotten. “Your hand.” He looked at her with a sincere gaze. She put out her left hand, knowing it would be the one he’d like to see. The Outsider placed his left hand under her palm, and his right over her hand. Emily’s eye twitched in response, there was a similar sensation she felt to when she had first received her mark. A burning from beneath her skin. He didn’t need to remove her glove, her mark was glowing through the fabric. The Outsider’s expression changed when he couldn’t read it. He wasn’t dead. It was what he anticipated, yet still his emotions took over him. What was a name anyways? A meaningless title, one which the Outsider received by people who were long gone from his life. Emily watched as he removed his hands from hers.
She cleared her throat, killing the silence.

“What do you think about Elliot?”

Chapter Text

The sun was setting in Dunwall, and the view from the Outsider’s window looked breathtaking, his eyes lost in the Wrenhaven River as the sunlight reflected off of the still water. Corvo sat by his desk, fingers intertwined as he pondered, almost in disbelief with himself, unable to fathom how he ended up agreeing to let the Outsider accompany him on one of his missions. A few days had passed since the discussion filled dinner between the three of them, and there hadn’t been many interactions between anybody since. Emily remained busy as she usually was, a new and promising lead on the Hatters didn’t make things any easier for her. Despite the lead requiring much work, there was a substantial amount of growth for Dunwall in question. And this is what pushed the empress to pursue the chase on the gang which had been a thorn in her side for years now.

“It only makes sense that they would push to establish black market shops in the Tower District now more than ever. Dunwall is still being heavily rebuilt, and since our hands are full with reconstruction, they jumped at the chance to gain ground on us.” Noticeably Emily’s voice had a strong hint of frustration in it, but determination too. Her dinner plate sat empty in front of her as she spoke to her father. It was only the two of them eating dinner together. The Outsider happened to be having a checkup with doctor Charles, something which was now a part of his daily routine. She knew he wouldn’t dart out of the examination room this time around, promising to take him up close to see the river sometime if he behaved. She disliked having to make such bargains more than anything, knowing he was no child. Yet at times she felt as if there was no other way to have him cooperate with her. His health was vital due to the fragile state he was in.

Corvo looked to be more optimistic over the situation, to him this mission meant an apt solution for an issue which had been progressing for over a decade now. “We’re one step ahead of them, we will catch them off guard.” He voiced in his usual gruff pitch. Emily nodded in agreement, standing up. “Em.” He stopped her with his words. She knew what he was going to say next, the respect she had for her father kept her from interrupting him. “You should make sure Elliot is ready.” He spoke wistfully. She nodded again, leaving the dining room with a quickened pace. Corvo’s absence of rebuking left Emily surprised. A short walk through the halls led her to his room. Emily knocked on the door before calling his name. “Elliot?” He stood in front of the large windows in his bedroom, turning his head away from the view and towards the door. His hands were folded behind his back. He listened to the name Elliot being called out, a name which didn’t feel like it belonged to him, yet it was his title now. Forever a part of his identity. Emily stepped into the room after a few short knocks, greeting him with a small smile.

It had been some time since the two of them had caught any moments alone. He hated it, feeling unsafe and watched when Emily wasn’t near. Maybe he felt such emotion because she reminded him of the void, and that's what he was used to feeling. When Emily had originally brought up the plan for infiltrating abandoned buildings modified to hideouts in the Old Waterfront, he seemed uninterested. Infact, his disinterest left Emily surprised. She expected him to jump on the chance to explore. It was only a day later when he approached the topic slowly, only this time, he looked to be seemingly in agreement with going. The more he thought about it, the more clear it became that it was an opportunity to stick around her more. The only issue was, she had failed to mention to him that Corvo would, of course, be leading the mission. And by the time he found out about this, it would be too tricky to back out.

“It will be cold.” She warned him passively. The Outsider turned around completely, knowing better than to keep his back to an empress. “I hope you don’t plan on dragging us down.” Emily joked to lighten the mood, the Outsider seemed standoffish. More than usual. “Of course. I would never hear the end of it from the royal protector.” There was a mischievous grin on his face, it faded away as fast as it came. “I’ve noticed my father goes easier on you when I’m around, haven’t you?” She asked while walking closer to the large window, pressing her marked hand against the glass. His head was turned completely towards her, meanwhile Emily appeared to be more interested in the view at that moment. “He wouldn’t want to upset his daughter.” The Outsider spoke as he moved away from her, reaching out towards the old bed to lift his coat off of the sheets.

After a long afternoon of preparation, the three were set out for the Old Waterfront. Another night of merciless rain struck Dunwall, and this time thunder came with it. Emily wasn’t fond of setting out in such treacherous weather, but Corvo insisted that the rain was something to be grateful for. The storm provided them with cover, just what they needed to avoid any and all people on and about at late hours. The Outsider had more to be concerned over than just the weather, he was unsure as to how much exercise his body could really withstand. The pain his body experienced after the lengthy trip with Billie felt almost unbearable, it wasn’t something he wanted to undergo ever again. The only thing he could really hope for now was not having to hear any small talk, whether that be towards him or between Emily and Corvo. Normally he’d be fine with rain, but the showers were ruthless, and not for a second did the rainfall show a sign of stopping anytime soon. Emily was quick to see the Outsider’s look of obvious discomfort as they walked.

“It’s far easier to be the one watching history unfold rather than being involved, isn’t it?” Her voice was almost drowned out by the rain, but he was able to make out Emily’s words. She wasn’t wrong, her life hadn’t been very forgiving. It reminded the Outsider of Batista, specifically the frequent dust storms. Emily was able to use the storms to her advantage, just as they were doing with the rain. Times had changed so drastically since then, it was hard to accept the fact that the events in the Dust District had only been a few months ago. This only showed how quickly Emily recovered from Delilah’s callous reign, how powerful she truly was. Corvo came to a quick stop, turning around. Emily froze swiftly behind him, meanwhile the Outsider was caught off guard from their sudden halt.

Corvo’s eyes were on the Outsider, his tone gruff. “I hope you’re ready for some climbing, Elliot.”

Chapter Text

The Royal Protector was relentless, his pace showing not a single sign of stopping anytime soon. Not too far from him, the Empress followed with graceful motions, the skills she’d accumulated over the years apparent in her movements. Last but certainly not least, the former God of the Void struggled to keep up with the two people ahead of him. Emily frequently looked back to reassure the Outsider, and to make sure he hadn’t slipped and fallen to his death off of a rooftop. He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly where they were, though it wasn’t hard to tell that Dunwall tower was far behind them now. The Outsider was able to deduct so much from the change in the atmosphere. Emily recognized the area they were in from her former training with Corvo, this meant that they were nearing the Drapers Ward. Corvo would pause, letting the Outsider catch up to him. “We’re in the hotspot for gang operations.” Corvo subtly warned. It clicked for the Outsider where they were after Corvo’s warning, and existing for so long gave him a chance to see all that Drapers Ward had been through. Its days of glory and it’s tragic downfall. He remembered the place when it was buzzing with shops of all kinds, now it was reduced to practically nothing. Nothing good.

At first it was difficult for Corvo to pick up the noise, but Emily managed to do so instantly with her sharper ears. There were sounds of distant talking, some laughter too. Emily and Corvo exchanged glances strangely, as if they had the ability to read each other's minds. The Outsider, who wasn’t nearly as observant as he was when a god, was surprised to see Emily join his side. She turned towards him, taking his arm roughly before speaking, “we’re splitting up.” Emily caught him up with their plan, yet all of her talking seemed to go through one of his ears and pass out the other. When they had stopped, all of his exhaustion caught up to his body, processing all of the pain at once. The Outsider went limp, Emily’s grip on his arm only tightened to keep him from falling over. Corvo watched his daughter throw the Outsider’s arm over her neck and wrap her arm around his waist to keep him up right. As greatly as the sight agitated him, Corvo couldn't risk getting spotted by the possible gang members in the distance, he needed to have an advantage on them. “At least you won’t have anything dragging you down now. Find some place safe, I won’t be long.” And with that, Corvo Attano disappeared into the nearby darkness of a broken down structure of a boutique. Emily wasted no time, moving quickly.

Emily gently placed the Outsider down on the cold ground, propping him against a wall. She’d found some shelter not too far from where they had split up with Corvo. Yes she wanted nothing to do with the rain, but this is not what she meant. Standing up, her body turned towards the front of the abandoned shop they took shelter in. “Why do you always manage to faint on me?” She was speaking to the Outsider, despite being aware he was still unconscious. Her eyes skimmed the area beyond the shop, focusing on details like rain water trickling down small ramps on the sides of other abandoned shops. It was quiet, the harsh sounds of pouring down rain bleeding into the background. Emily listened for a good few minutes, not for a second did she leave her guard down. Amongst the rain, she would start hearing quiet mumbles, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that whoever was talking was inching closer, as their volume only increased until she could just barely make out the words. “An’ don’t stress yourself, the others wouldn’t dare sully a beauty like this. Not until you refurbish it, an’ you’ll be rich by then!” The voice was unfamiliar. It sounded like they were addressing someone, that meant there was more than one threat.

There was no hesitation or mistakes in Emily’s movements, she knew exactly what she was doing. Gripping the Outsider’s shoulders with her hands, she quickly dragged him into a dark corner of the shop. Once he was in a safe spot, Emily focused on dealing with the people nearby. She pushed herself up using a brick sticking out of a nearby wall, able to reach a window which had broken glass. Climbing out of the window, she looked up to see the roof not too far from her reach. Emily steadied her left foot on something sturdy, not wanting to waste time seeing what exactly her foot balanced itself on. She reached her right hand towards the roof, just barely able to grip it. Once she had a hold on the edge of the roof, she pushed herself to get a hold with her left hand so she could pull herself up. This push required her to force her foot down to get a boost, and that's exactly what Emily did. She pushed her left foot down on whatever surface it rested on, being met with a very sudden sharp pain in her foot. She failed to notice she was balancing herself on a sharp piece of glass which was what remained from the broken window.

She winced in pain, her tight grip on the edge of the roof releasing. Emily fell back, knowing she was high enough for the landing to result in a serious injury. She reached her left hand out, aiming it for the roof. Time briefly slowed, this gave her a chance to get a perfect aim on the roof. Emily released the tenseness from her marked hand, and as soon as she did so she was pulled towards the roof, landing on it. A sigh of relief escaped her, the adrenaline she felt kept her from focusing on her stabbed foot. Limping towards the opposite edge of the roof, Emily looked down to see two strangers trying to pry open the doors of the shop with their bare hands. Emily had barricaded the doors after she had entered the shop, her efforts didn’t disappoint. One of the men spoke while still attempting to force the door open, he mentioned something about architecture, she recognized his voice from when she stood in the shop. Pulling out her crossbow, Emily shot the man with a sleep dart, her eyes focusing on the other person with him. She jumped off of the roof, sword in hand. Emily landed on the man, cutting his head off upon impact. The stranger who was shot with the sleep dart snapped his head towards Emily, falling unconscious before he could attack or alert anyone nearby.

Emily exhaled, resisting the urge to collapse right then and there because of her foot. She knelt down and lifted up the unconscious gang member. Not wanting to exert anymore pressure onto her left foot, she used far reach to pull herself inside the shop through a broken window. Placing the man next to the Outsider, Emily slumped down against a nearby wall. She would breathe heavily, fighting the itch of falling asleep, or even closing her eyes. A few moments would pass, the sounds of soft groaning snapped Emily away from her thoughts. She sat up quickly, looking towards the Outsider. “Elliot?” She questioned, pain making her voice break. The Outsider sat up, looking towards her. He tried to stand up to reach her, but began to choke after experiencing nausea. He threw up his meal from earlier that day along with an unhealthy amount of blood. Emily looked away, using the support of the wall behind her to stand. Once the Outsider finally caught his breath, he stood up weakly.

“I shouldn't've offered for you to come, Elliot.” Emily sighed, her eye occasionally twitching from the persistent stinging in her foot. The Outsider was more curious than he was confused, seeing a body next to the place where he sat helped him put some of the pieces together. As he was looking down, he saw a puddle of blood forming beneath Emily’s left boot. “You’re hurt.” His tone was cold, something which bothered Emily. “Where is Corvo?” He would ask. Emily moved to sit back down, not able to stand for much longer. As she moved, the Outsider wrapped his arm around her to assist her. She was surprised, a rush of emotions flowing through her. When he removed his arm from her waist, she missed the feeling. Emily was still ashamed of how he made her feel, but she didn’t lie to herself this time. “We split up, it would’ve been dangerous to bring you along while sneaking around so Corvo took matters into his own hands. I ran into some trouble while you were unconscious.” Her voice broke again, gesturing towards the body of the unconscious man the Outsider had woken up next to.

He swore he felt a part of his soul, or what was left of it, shatter in half. There it was again, that awful feeling of guilt. The Outsider did a decent job of hiding it, looking away, pretending to be interested in the rainfall. “Does it hurt?” His tone lacked emotion. Emily would’ve found his dullness amusing under less dire circumstances, yet she didn’t even have the energy to spare some sarcasm in her response. “Yes.” She almost spoke in a whisper. Emily was going to speak again, say something reassuring. It was more so for her own comfort, seeing the Outsider wasn’t phased by the issue at hand. Little did she know he was feeling more human than her at that moment. She never got the chance to speak, stopping herself from saying anything when she felt his hand squeeze hers tightly. It felt wrong, yet so right. Emily could practically smell the void, her senses losing all sensibility from his touch.

It might’ve been the blood loss speaking, but Emily didn’t mind if Corvo took just a bit longer.

Chapter Text

She sat on the edge of her bathtub, pressing her damp hair between a creme colored towel, her bare feet pressed against the cold tile. A maid knocked on the door nearby before entering, leaving behind Emily’s clothes in a neat pile on a nearby table. “Thank you, Mary.” Emily voiced softly. Once the maid left, she reached for a fresh strip of bandage, carefully wrapping it around the gash on her foot. When she removed herself from the tub, she hissed in response to the sharp pain caused by the deep cut. Corvo had no time to lecture his daughter after finding her and the Outsider in a terrible condition, Emily only assumed he would do so now that they were back in Dunwall tower. Fortunately things didn’t end in a total catastrophe, the conversation Emily had heard along with Corvo’s spying provided them with enough information to put together exactly what the gangsters were planning. She knew Corvo couldn’t deal with this on his own, and that's exactly why the Outsider wouldn’t be tagging along next time, it would just be the Royal Protector and the Empress.

“I’ll come out of this a madman.” The Outsider spoke to himself, running his fingers along his pale face while staring at his reflection on a dirtied mirror. The feeling of a rough pat on his right shoulder made the Outsider almost jump out of his shorts, he looked back at the mirror to see doctor Charles standing behind him. “A young man like you shouldn’t be thinking such things. Come, sit with me.” His voice only confirmed how old his soul really was. “Whatever words you have to spare, I am not interested.” The Outsider pushed the hand on his shoulder away. In the corner of his eyes he could see the Royal Protector watching through the glass window on the examination room doors. The Outsider could feel his body tense up, quickly obliging to the doctor’s words. The two of them sat on the nearby rusty hospital cot. He tried to fight against it, but the Outsider couldn’t help but stare back at Corvo through the door as he felt his hand being examined closely by the doctor. A short sigh of relief escaped his lips as he saw Corvo look away, seemingly pulled into a conversation by someone else in the hall. Charles smiled sweetly. “The empress is the one you should fear, not her royal protector.” He released the Outsider’s hand from his weak grip as he spoke. There was something chilling about the old man’s words, at least that's how the Outsider found it. He quickly stood and got off of the cot, pushing through the examination room doors, rushing past Corvo.

As he desperately searched for his room, the walls seemed to spin around him. After one familiar turn the Outsider was greeted by the door to the room he was staying in. He busted the door open aggressively, closing it behind him. Back pressed against the wood, his quickend breaths began to slow by the sight of the river outside. When he could finally see straight again, the Outsider moved away from the door. Just as he did, three knocks made him tense up again. He wished it had been Emily, but the fact that he couldn’t sense her made it clear who it really was. Corvo stepped inside of the old room with a displeased look on his face. For a brief moment the two of them stared at one another, the Outsider trying to read the royal protector's mind meanwhile Corvo glared with intent. After he had taken enough of the silence, Corvo spoke. “I thought I made it clear that you couldn’t pull things like that off, not when people are around.” His voice was slow and filled with emotion. Corvo felt as if he had yet to get this point across, deducting so much from how unintimidated the Outsider looked. He was standing his ground while Corvo lectured him. Stepping closer, he narrowed his gaze, looking into the Outsider’s piercing green eyes. Corvo could still see black in those eyes, the same dreamlike black from fifteen years ago.

“I don’t think you understand what the severity of the situation would be if people started to piece together who you really are. What you really are.” Corvo knew his words were beyond harsh, but he remembered how his daughter had injured herself for him. “Emily saved your life more than once, and you don’t have the decency to at least behave in her tower?” Corvo had a threatening voice, as if he weren’t intimidating enough already. The Outsider could feel Corvo slowly picking away at his confidence, taking a step back by pure instinct when the tall man inched closer. He wasn’t ready to go down so easily. “If Emily’s wellbeing concerns you so much, then taking her on missions like that is foolish.” He argued back. Corvo grabbed his frail shoulder with a painfully tight grip. “You watch that mouth, have you forgotten your place?” Seeing the Outsider wince from his grip made Corvo release. He left the room after a moment of silence, closing the door behind him with an aggressive push. The Outsider stood quiet, breathing heavily.

The evenings in Dunwall were always tame, its citizens came home tired from work, the streets lacking liveliness. By the time dinner had rolled around in the tower, the Outsider had replayed his argument with Corvo at least a dozen times in his head. He thought about things he could’ve said, things he should’ve said. Also words which he should have just kept to himself to begin with. It was a human thing to do. Dinner had gone by quietly, as Emily tried multiple times to initiate a conversation, but neither her father or the Outsider seemed in the mood to converse. The only moment during dinner where the Outsider appeared to be somewhat engaged was when Emily offered finally taking him down to see the Wrenhaven River upfront. To this, he responded with intent. Corvo was clearly irritated by the idea but something told him, advising against it would result in an angry empress. Once everyone was finished with their meal, the plates were taken away by a maid. Emily dismissed her father, knowing he had a job to do, the two embracing before he left the dining room with an uncertain look on his face.

The Wrenhaven River was a staple in Dunwall’s history. The large body of water was something every citizen of Dunwall looked at with sentiment, holding it dear to their hearts from memories they had associated with the river. It fascinated the Outsider too, how mysterious it was. There was ancient history tied to it, he’d seen it with his own eyes. People tended to stay away from the docks when it was dark out, this made a perfect opportunity for them to go there and take a good close look. All Emily could think of whenever she visited the docks was how she escaped Dunwall when Delilah had taken her throne, how she ventured out in the Dreadful Wale with Billie. “Elliott.” Emily began, “Corvo had mentioned an argument had broken out between you two, he spared me from the details. I’m sure it was only due to him not wanting to worry me.” She stood near the edge of the dock as she spoke, staring out into the vast scene beyond her. He furrowed his brows at the mention of the argument, as if he hadn’t thought enough about it already. “It’s nothing to dwell over, he didn’t appreciate seeing me shirtless in the tower. I don’t blame him.” He reassured her, downplaying the situation. Emily laughed quietly in response, skipping a rock while she listened to the distant unidentifiable sounds.

They both went quiet as he tried to work up the courage to ask about her injury, knowing he was partially responsible made it a challenge. Watching Emily struggle to walk made him feel painfully guilty. All of his internal arguing with himself stopped when he felt her hand brush against his. Emily wasn’t one to play coy, she took his hand, squeezing it tightly. “Why don’t you tell me about what you’ve been archiving on Dunwall?” She asked, her marked hand still gripping his.

Chapter Text

“So, have you seen him wandering about?” The young woman questioned in a polite tone. Her hair brushed just above her chocolate brown eyes, shining brightly even under Dunwall’s cloudy skies. The Outsider shook his head in response shortly after she spoke, unbeknownst to the stranger, he was very uncomfortable from the whole interaction. “I don’t think I have.” The words spilled from his mouth in an unnatural manner. “Ah, I see. Sorry for being a bother.” Just like that, the young woman disappeared into the nearby shop which specialized in shoemaking. A sigh of relief mixed with frustration escaped his lips, glad it was over. The Outsider found it disappointing to accept the fact that despite observing humans for centuries, no, millenniums. He struggled in basic social interactions. Emily had previously insisted on him adapting to a schedule, one with regular visits to the examination room and afternoon etiquette classes. The Outsider knew well that these were definitely the Royal Protector’s wishes. Though he wasn’t against the suggestion, the thought of spending time with strangers irked him. A firm hand on his shoulder made him turn his head back quickly, relieved to see that it was just Corvo. Well, more befuddled than relieved.

“Careful, attracting unwanted attention isn’t smart.” Corvo released his shoulder. The Outsider couldn’t believe the man who he once addressed as ‘dear’, was now lecturing him on being careful with what he did in public. He furrowed his eyebrows and followed Corvo back to the tower, they took a path which was unfamiliar to the Outsider to keep out of the eyes of prying citizens. Aware of the Outsider’s itch to know of the events unfolding around him, Corvo decided to clue him in on the progress of his current mission involving the Drapers Ward. It was a vague hint of kindness. “The man Emily had neutralized during our night in the Ward was apprehended. He's been recognized as Cecil Ryning, goes by ‘the Commissioner’.” Corvo spoke quietly, but with enough volume to not have to repeat himself. Now he had the Outsider’s attention. This was all, without a doubt, thanks to Emily. Her quick thinking provided them with what proved to be a very promising lead. “The Commissioner…” He repeated the familiar nickname of the gangster. Familiar enough of a name to be known, yet not prominent enough of a character to be remembered. “He must be spilling his guts out in the prison. I’ve observed your methods from afar.” He responded to Corvo’s mention of the man. “And what is there which you haven’t yet observed?” The Royal Protector mused. They both went quiet after that.

Their walk eventually led to an eerie looking hallway, its walls made of large stones. Corvo unlocked the door with a pair of worn out looking keys, clear that he took this entrance into the tower often. It made sense, most of the work he did was confidential and very dangerous. On the other side of the door was a small room, everything inside was covered with a thin layer of dust, this especially interested the Outsider. He found abandoned places to often be the most capturing, they tended to have the richest history behind them. Even rooms like the one they were in, which at first glance looked banal, usually kept an unexpected secret. He didn’t bother poking Corvo about it though, past experiences left him knowing that his answers never failed to be poor. Worse than being left with more questions, he would be left on a deadend whenever he asked the Royal Protector anything. Once they exited the room, the Outsider was greeted with the Dunwall tower he knew. He assumed Corvo would leave him alone after being escorted inside, but was irritated to find that he was wrong. The Outsider hid the fact well, behaving as he normally would. “What were you discussing with that young woman?” Corvo inquired. A frown pulled at his face in response to the question, knowing this was the last thing he wanted to deal with at that moment. “I wasn’t discussing anything with her, she asked me if I knew the whereabouts of a merchant.” He expected his answer to leave Corvo questioning him further, but to his surprise the Royal Protector nodded and took off.

It didn’t take a genius to conclude that something was amiss, the biggest giveaway being Corvo’s almost sudden change in demeanor towards him. The Outsider must have thought of all the things which he’d done upon his first time arriving at Dunwall tower, because soon he could start to feel his head spinning, almost as if it were doing so physically. He blinked a few times and suddenly he was slouched up against the wall nearby. Any attempts to move made his head spin further, his body retaliated to any movements he made by sending a painful shockwave through him. It had only been four seconds since the pain started, yet its severity made it feel like four hours. He swore he could see something shuffling from the corner of his eye, too pained to catch a good look at what it was. It moved closer, inching in until it stood in front of him. By now he was curled up against the ground like a sack of potatoes, only able to stare at the thing. What it was, was incomprehensible. Truly like nothing he had ever seen before. The unintelligible being soon engulfed the Outsider in a black mist, like that of Emily’s shadow walk.

He woke, expecting the nightmare to be over, but was terrified to find himself in the void. The Outsider didn’t need to open his eyes to know where he was, he could feel it everywhere, surrounding him. Despite the whole situation being strange, the most unusual part was that he wasn’t on the ground. His eyes shot open to find that he was falling, and there was no ground, no end, nothing to break his fall. He was falling forever. His body was limp, arms flailing helplessly. It was like having his throat slit open all over again, just like then, when he tried to scream, it passed through his lips as a mere whisper. The Outsider gave up. He closed his eyes, hoping to never wake again.

“Elliott.” A familiar voice called out for him. He could still feel the void, but it was a completely different feeling. His eyes fluttered open with a lack of grace, finding the Empress standing next to him as he laid on the uncomfortable cot in the examination room. “I was thinking you would be out cold for the next few days. How are you feeling?” Her voice snapped him completely back to reality. All at once, all of his awful thoughts went away as he was reminded of what good was left in his life. The world was truly corrupt, there was no good left, 4,000 years was enough to know that for sure. But the Outsider didn’t care, because there was something pleasant in his life, someone. He was ready to speak, to say that he was alright. That was before blood began to pour out of his mouth, he held his hands to his mouth in response, the red liquid trickling between his fingers and onto his lap. His eyes moved up to see doctor Charles standing at the end of the cot, a content look plastered over his wrinkly features. “Don’t be concerned. The blood is a sign that the medicine I gave you is at work.” He croaked. Emily nodded, thanking the old man before dismissing him. The Outsider repulsed at the idea of the doctor being around his body while he was unconscious. “I don’t trust him…” He admitted, wiping the blood from his mouth with the sleeve of his tailcoat. It was an odd article of clothing to wear, but he didn’t complain about the clothes the tower provided him with. The blood was smeared across his mouth now, as wiping it with dry fabric didn’t do him much justice. Emily sighed in response to his lack of manners, he was like an angsty teenager at times.

Her eyes skimmed over the small wooden table which sat next to the cot in search of a rag of sorts. Emily picked up a worn out piece of fabric, moving away from him to wet it from a nearby sink. Once she returned she sat on the edge of the cot, pressing the damp rag against his bloodied skin. He stared at her as she worked on cleaning the smudged blood off of his face. “I haven’t seen you in awhile, I was hoping to meet under better circumstances.” He couldn't speak for too long, his throat would burn and twist in response if he did. A small smile pulled on her lips, pleased to hear that he looked forward to meeting her. Their interactions only grew less and less strained as the weeks passed by. They were reunited early in the month of Rain, now it was nearing the end of the month of Darkness. “Corvo must have filled you in on what we’ve been working on regarding the activity of gangs. It hasn’t been easy, I’ve barely gotten any time to myself.” She spoke, her voice made him feel safe. He put his hand out and placed it over hers to stop her from cleaning up his face, resulting in her shooting him a curious glance. “I’ll be alright, empress. How much time do you have to spare?” He asked quietly, almost whispering. Everything felt so intimate, their faces were inches away from one another. They could both feel the void being emitted from each other. Any reminder of the void may have been thought to be an unpleasant one, but what they felt when around each other was truly something else. Indescribable.

“An hour or so.” She smirked. The truth was, Emily didn’t have any time to spare, she had squeezed seeing him into her schedule. She knew it was a setback, though, it was worthless compared to spending some time with him. “Let's not waste it then, how does going outside sound to you?” Despite his body practically writhing in response to him getting up so suddenly, he ignored its cries and pleads. She appeared slightly concerned. “Are you certain you can be out in that state?” She half expected him to pass out again, it wouldn’t surprise if he did considering how many times it’d happened previously. He only nodded in response while still pulling away from the cot, soon standing on his own two feet. It felt painful yet freeing. Emily led the way after he was standing, pushing open the doors to head out into the hallway.

She chose to take him to a place nearby just to be safe, not for a second believing that he was even remotely close to being fully healed. The Outsider brought up his condition while they walked, passing down the familiar halls of the tower. It was ironic that he knew the least about what was happening to his body, maybe because he did everything in his power to avoid speaking to the physician. “These attacks which happen to my body are worsening slowly, I can feel it. The one I just experienced was by far, the most painful one.” You’d think he would sound troubled as he spoke, yet the Outsider was calm, calmer than usual. Emily was clearly displeased with his words, despite knowing it was the truth, it bothered her. “The void itself is an impossible concept to grasp, that mixed with medicine and you’ve completely lost me. All we can do is hope that Charles’ procedures are working.” She reached into her coat to search for her pocket watch, keeping a close eye on the time. The mere mention of the doctor annoyed him. “I don’t trust him.” He repeated the same words from earlier. “You don’t need to be so vigilant, it will stress you out unnecessarily. Corvo makes sure to stay in the examination room with you the times you fall unconscious. He watches Charles operate.” Even though her father asked not to share that information, Emily did so anyway. It was the only way to comfort him. She knew that he felt confined whenever Corvo was around, but also trusted the man just as much. The Outsider was visibly taken aback by her words, quick to respond. “By his own accord?” He asked, just a slight hint of confusion in his voice. Emily brought them out to a lower exit of the tower, it was surprisingly close to the river. “We decided on it together.”

The Outsider’s eyes lingered on her whenever she spoke, listening attentively. When she stopped walking, he directed his attention to where they ended up. It was a broken down and abandoned dock. Even though it was terribly worn out, the structure was safe enough to stand on. It captured the river perfectly, the best part being that there wasn’t a single person around. The somber look the Wrenhane River gave mixed with the sad skies of Dunwall was quite possibly one of the most calming things he had laid his eyes upon. As calming as the quiet mornings in Aventa, with its orange skies.

“It's stunning.” He whispered.

Chapter Text

It felt like time was transcending beyond him, twisting into anything but what he was accustomed to, what he felt couldn’t be put into words. He was right, he was slowly turning into a madman. Like a thousand previous times, a call of his so-called name broke him from his thoughts. “Did you hear anything I just said?” Corvo sighed, growing increasingly impatient with the Outsider’s frequent zoning off. He wasn’t annoyed by the zoning off itself, rather the sign that his medicine wasn’t doing anything. Charles always reassured the Royal Protector, claiming that all the weird behaviour Elliott exhibited was the result of progress, just symptoms of the medicine. The two of them stood near the backend of Coldridge Prison.

The familiar interior made Corvo visibly uncomfortable. Not just anyone could take away the slight shift in his demeanor, but the Outsider made the observation fairly quick. They were in the prison to see Cecil Ryning, better known as the Commissioner. It took some convincing, but Emily was persuasive enough to have Corvo bring the Outsider to one of the interrogations. She wanted him to have a change of pace. “I know I’m not your ideal company, but I need to be here with you. Stick close and don’t make eye contact.” Corvo warned, rather considerately. The Outsider nodded.

The interrogation room didn’t have much to offer to your average person, it was a room which had the sole purpose of torturing those unwilling to share information. Cecil was being held in the main section, strapped to a chair, left in a pathetic state from all his previous torture sessions. There used to be a picture of the Lord Regent above the desk which was faced by the torture chair, but it was torn down long ago. The sound of the door opening jolted Cecil awake, his head darting towards the source of noise. Corvo stepped into the interrogation room, the Outsider following closely behind him.

After Corvo had mentioned Cecil to the Outsider, he took the initiative to do some research on the gangster. He was surprised to say the least, taken slightly aback by the fact that a man with a history like his had not yet cracked under the pressure. “Who's this, Attano? Another persecutor I assume.” To this, Corvo grimaced. He reached over to lift a sharp paring knife up from the side table which sat near the chair. “Know this, Cecil. Once you confess, your tongue won’t be of use to me any longer.” He lowered his hand to his side, holding onto the knife with a semi-tight grip. The Outsider remained standing by the door. He hadn't done anything wrong, yet was still grateful he wasn’t the one bound to the chair.

Corvo’s threat, moreso warning, successfully hushed Cecil. He regretted ever letting a word slip through his cracked lips. The Outsider wasn’t explicitly told what his role would be in the prison, assuming he was brought along just to watch. Either way he went unbothered, watching a man get tortured until he confessed wasn’t new to him. Quite primeval, really. The gangster lowered his head, hiding all the damage done to his face. He always thought of himself to be a rather handsome gentleman, there went that.

The Outsider recognized the guise on Corvo’s face, that of revenge. Even after all these years the royal protector wasn’t satisfied with his revenge, always seeking out to hurt those who tore his family apart. It was tiring to have to go all the way down to the prison in the mornings to try and get a confession out of the now despondent gangster. Yet, the more twisted part of him took some sickening pleasure in hurting those who tried to harm Emily. His true nature reflected on the blade, the Outsider recognized it all too well. He hadn’t even asked any questions yet, going straight to the dicing. There was a method to it, of course. They had reached the point where less and less mercy was being put on the table. Cecil’s eyes would peak out from under his sweat coated hair. He was quiet up until the blade met his skin. Then, a loud hollar of anguish echoed throughout the prison.

“Besides time, that's why I don’t watch the interrogations. I’ll send down a few questions, that's the most I’ll contribute.” Emily uttered. She sat with the Outsider on the large stone slab outside her office window. It was an odd thing, to be perched on a place so sentimental to the empress. He nodded after she spoke, satisfied with her answer. Emily focused her gaze on him, having seen enough of the skyline. “I used to be afraid that I'd slip and fall one of these days.” He knew what her next words were going to be. “That's changed.” She focused back on the view, the slightest smile on her face. Emily wasn’t thankful for his mark, nor was she irked by it. Rather, it felt like she had lost a sense of innocence she once had. A look of interest settled on his ancient features, unable to part his gaze from the skyline. The only thing as entrancing as the views Dunwall had to offer, was its empress.

“When I was at the prison with your father, it was somehow different from the previous time I had watched.” His words were quiet as if he were thinking aloud. Emily raised a brow. She was going to respond, but he continued. “They acknowledged me. Cecil addressed me.” This made Emily narrow her eyes. “How did it feel?” She put her hand over his, looking into his piercing green eyes, even though he was looking elsewhere. “I don’t know…” He repeated her gesture shortly after, lost in her dark brown eyes. “I feel like I’ve lost myself, there's a lot I don’t know anymore.” He voiced. Emily offered him some soothing words out of reassurance. “A part of yourself that wasn’t meant to be there. It's...think of it as being able to rediscov- no, discover yourself.” She stood up as she spoke, breaking the deep eye contact she held with him.

“Hold on.” He also stood. Emily looked back at him, curious. Whenever she looked at him like that his heart ached. This was as close as he could ever get to her, she would never truly be his. Maybe he was being childish for envying Wyman. Making the empress smile as she described they would, felt far out of his reach. He knew it wasn’t meant to be, the Empress of the Isles could never be with someone as lowly as him. “Yes, Elliott?” She spoke while going back inside through her office window. The Outsider stepped in after her, having to keep himself from stammering. “I have something to give you.” He spoke like he was running out of time, which was partially true; time was of the essence. Emily had work to do. There she went again with that irresistible look, eyes filled with endless oceans of curiosity.

He gulped back his apprehensiveness before continuing. “It's in my room. Do you have any more time to spare?” He ran a hand through his hair. Emily looked back to read the grandfather clock which sat at the other end of her office. She pursed her lips, expression looking like that of deep thought. To his immediate relief, she nodded at him. “I won’t miss a few minutes. What do you have to give me?” She considered at least a dozen novelties in that very moment, stopping herself after the realization that this was the Outsider she was talking to. Emily wasn’t one for presents, moreso as a kid, she was overjoyed by them. Now, the only thing the word gift presented her with, was waves of anxiety. Emily trusted the Outsider though, mentally noting how that sentence was all kinds of wrong. “I hope your hopes aren’t up. For extra measure, I’ll inform you now. It was made by hand, my hands.” He started towards the door after speaking. His words prompted her to grin. If she were to be given something as a present, Emily preferred a sentimental one. She thought back on the time Wyman had brought her a special hookah, one of a kind.

She followed behind him closely, joining his side once she caught up. It was a pleasant sight, seeing him navigate through the tower with ease instead of looking like a dazed sheep. His room held quite the distance from hers, something which came to disappoint the two. With that sense of disappointment, Emily was also somewhat grateful. She could not get herself to focus when the Outsider was near. The halls of Dunwall tower gave off the feeling of sameness as they usually did, a somber dullness. No matter the amount of candles the maids lit, however many footsteps shuffled around, no one could bring themselves to put behind them the events which took place a few months ago. Despite the work awaiting Emily back in her office, she was quite out of sorts to arrive at his door. How did time pass so quickly? It only stretched on when the day was bad, yet good moments slipped out of her grasp faster than she could process them. He opened the door, closing it once they both made it inside. There was not a single candle lit in his room, the darkness almost consumed the two entirely. The not so calm waves of Wrenhaven splashed around violently, pushed by the harsh cold winds of Dunwall, far beyond the window.

“You keep it awfully dim in here.” She commented with most of her attention somewhere outside the window. The Outsider walked over to his desk which was littered with documents, hand reaching down to pull open one of the drawers. He pulled out a semi-large piece of paper, taking a good look at it one last time. He had spent hours contemplating its worth, whether or not it was good enough for her. Leaning over the desk, he held it out for Emily to take. She carefully took the papyrus type paper into her delicate hands. Anxiously, he stared at her still face, awaiting a reaction, any sort of shift in her expression at all. After a few seconds of silence passed, a smile curled onto her lips. “This is incredible.” Emily whispered.

Her reaction made his heart race. The Outsider had made her a sketch of the Wrenhaven river, all done in charcoal. It was detailed to the very corners of the paper. Emily turned to face the window again, holding the piece of artwork up next to the view. The accuracy was almost hard to believe. She looked at him. “I didn’t take you to be such a fine artist.” While she spoke she moved towards him, almost making him step back out of instinct. She placed the paper down and placed her hands onto his shoulders, briefly she locked her eyes with his glassy green iris.

Emily pulled him into a gentle hug. “Thank you.” Her smile slowly faded when she pulled back. Emily went to pick the paper back up from his desk, taking a closer look at it. She felt something wet and cold on her left cheek, tracing a finger over her skin to find blood on her finger. Emily looked up at him and was filled with dread at the sight of his face. “Elliott!” She called his name in shock. He looked completely unphased from the blood dripping out of his eye sockets and mouth. Maybe because he’d already lost to his own body, falling onto the ground with a loud thud, hitting his head on the edge of the desk in the process.

Chapter Text

There was almost a bit of humor in the whole situation. Maybe someone would admit to it being funny if he wasn’t bleeding out from every part of his body which would permit so. His eyes shot open and by instinct he sat up sharply, perfect posture and all. There was no void when he slipped away from consciousness this time, only silence. It was like drowning, and he could practically feel the waves. The Outsider was convinced that he wasn’t sinking deeper and deeper, no, something was grabbing at his ankles and pulling him down into the depths of the ocean. The water was unusually warm. The only piece of his consciousness remaining was the one which accepted this as death. This was meant to happen from the very beginning, no? His throat was slit and it should have ended his life. Yet, it was prolonged. By four thousand years to be precise. With all these feelings and sensations came nothing, it was like experiencing everything at once, yet not. The Outsider lifted a frail hand to hold his head, which felt like it was spinning a thousand miles per hour.

He was just relieved to not wake up in the examination room. The sharp pains in his stomach made him fall right back down onto the bed, his body curling up in response to the pain, he writhed in agony. If his throat didn’t feel like it was being pulverized he would have cried out for help. His body was drenched in sweat, a bit disgusted with how damp his hair was. How could they leave him like this? Did Emily authorize it? Had they finally come to see that he showed no promise in healing and concluded that he was deadweight? His thoughts raced faster than his heartbeat.

“Elliott?” A familiar voice called, a voice which somehow had the power to ease his nerves entirely in a matter of seconds. The intense pain he was experiencing kept him from calling out her name, something which he longed to do desperately. For once he was afraid, and he felt regret too. Was going to Rudshore a mistake? Hadn’t all it’d done give him something to lose? He didn’t care if he went through tremendous lengths of affliction, just as long as he could continue to see her. When Emily didn’t get a response of any kind, she gently pushed the door open to investigate. Initially she only came over to check on him, she swore to herself that was all this was. Seeing his condition made her rush into the room.

Beyond the window, the Wrenhaven river splashed violently. One could say that the deep waters cried with him, feeling his agony. She didn’t bother to announce that she was entering his room, slowly opening the door and stepping inside quickly. Emily pushed the very chipped door closed, taking a look around the room before focusing her gaze on the Outsider. “How are you feeling?” She sat at the end of his bed, leaning over to place a hand on his shoulder. Emily was met with no response, just soft groans of pain. “If I’d known you were hurting so bad, I would have never left.” Emily confessed, a great sense of guilt lingering over her. “I’ll get you something to ease the pain.” She was going to stand, but felt a weak tug on her wrist. Not another word passed through her lips after that, Emily remained seated, not daring to make another sound.

The rest of the evening passed slowly, in silence. There would be occasional noise of a maid passing down the hallway, or the ruthless winds outside jarring the window. Emily sat completely still, afraid to move. The Outsider’s fingers still curled around her wrist, she feared that even the slightest movement would deteriorate his fingers, causing them to shrivel up into ash and vanish. His eyes had a pink shade to them from all the tears he had shed, facing away from Emily to hide his face. The Outsider felt everything, even the noises. His body, not for a second, was at rest. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him why this was happening. Being pulled out from the void after being attached to it for four thousand years wouldn't go without complications, yet this felt so much worse than anything he could have ever anticipated. No one knew better than him, not even Charles. How could Emily ever think it would work? Assigning a man who hadn’t the slightest clue as to what the Outsider really was, to ‘treat’ him…

And that's when it stuck. What exactly was Charles doing to his body? Corvo’s monitoring was futile if he was uneducated on medicine. A mixture of drool and blood leaking from his mouth as he thought. That's all he could do now, really. Think. The Outsider needed to see what exactly the royal physician was doing to him, what remedies could he possibly be conjuring up in that examination room of his? Any normal person would take one quick examination of his state and figure that they are not up for the challenge. Yet, this man seemed to very zealously accept the task at hand. He isn’t being paid any more than normal, is he? Why stray from a perfect, comfortable schedule. To burden yourself with such a task?

He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Her duties forced Emily to pull away and leave the room, she must have asked him a million times if he needed anything, anyone to stay with him. All the Outsider could manage was a weary “no”, everything following after that were just groans of approval. She wanted to be mad at him, and couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was how much he distressed her, or the way he acted which made it impossible for her to deny her feelings for him. Emily wasn’t certain that he would still be there when she returned, that meant in a both literal and metaphorical sense. When she was leaving, it was hard to let go of the door, her fingers curling over the splintered edges. The Outsider could practically feel her regret and longing as she left, he felt the same. With a lot of effort he managed to sit up, his figure looking droopy. His eyes lingered on the spot where Emily once sat, gaze moving up to the door to see she was gone. Long gone, to be exact, he couldn’t feel the void which dripped from her, nor any footsteps coming from the hall.

His arms shook when he used them for support, a burning sensation overtook them once the tension was gone. Every movement elicited a wince or grunt from him, enduring it all felt excruciating. The Outsider turned his head once his legs were off of the bed, his feet rested on the wooden floor. He watched the river with great interest, absorbed in how much it visually resembled how he felt. If his legs were any useful at all, he would have run outside right there and dove straight into the freezing water. Envisioning it made him feel warm. He let his dangerous thoughts be, any more acknowledgement of them and they would no longer be just thoughts. The Outsider felt obligated to weed out the corruption behind Dunwall towers seemingly secure walls. He didn’t want to be a reflection of his past self anymore, wanting to rediscover himself, just as Emily had told him. No longer would he observe with terrible black eyes. He needed to make it to the examination room.

Building up the courage to get himself to stand, the Outsider used his worn out arms to push himself away from the bed. For a moment he stumbled, spreading his arms out to balance himself. His legs shook from the pressure, eventually he got used to the feeling and was able to settle with it. Carefully, he made his way towards the door of his room. His frail fingers pushed against the wood to open the door which Emily didn’t fully close. The thought of bumping into Charles on his way to the examination room, or worse, the royal protector, made him anxious. By then he had pretty much memorized Charles' timetable, which made him feel less tense. If he was correct, Charles wouldn’t even be in Dunwall tower today. The Outsider overheard some conversation regarding Cecil Ryning. His best guess was that the gangster still had more information to spare, Corvo just needed to beat it out of him, that's all. The man was most likely on the verge of death, and the physician would aid to bring him back from that state until Cecil’s body collapsed entirely. All Corvo was concerned about was getting all the details out of him before that happened.

The Outsider thought about all of this as he limped down the long hallway, his side pushed against the wall for support. He took deep breaths, yet they only made him feel nauseous. He could feel his body growing more and more feeble as he pressed on. Any more and he could see himself on the ground, clawing his way towards the examination room. He coughed and sputtered, not daring to stop now. What would normally be a thirty second walk took him eight minutes. He finally reached his destination after a long and agonizing ‘walk’, feeling an odd sense of achievement. He had a right to be pleased with himself. The Outsider was able to open the doors with ease, a little astonished that a man as secretive as Charles didn’t lock the doors. Maybe because he wasn’t far from the tower and could return at any given moment. Realizing that, the Outsider quickened his movements drastically, despite his frail frame practically begging against it.

For a few seconds he glanced around the familiar interior, noticing a drawer near the cot he usually laid in while being examined. Whatever that meant. He would often see Charles poking about in there, it must have been medicine specifically for him. The Outsider was unlike any other human, afterall. He approached the door carefully, as if there were tripwires hidden around the room. Once he made it to the drawer, he sank to the ground with a lack of grace to open it. To his absolute alarm, the drawer didn’t budge. He pulled at another drawer to find it opened with ease, then another, and another. That made it clear, Charles was hiding something, he could practically sense it. Time was of the essence, the Outsider kept himself from panicking, wise enough to know it wouldn’t help in any way whatsoever. There needed to be something around the room which could force open the drawer somehow.

The Outsider spun himself around while still sitting on the floor, pulling himself up using the cot. He sat on its surface to keep himself from having to stand. From there he was able to see the various things in the examination room, sharp green eyes in search of something to force the locked drawer open. To his convenience, the small table next to the cot he sat on had a few tools resting on its surface. A strabismus, iris scissors, and an ordinary knife. He reached for the knife, arm pained from being stretched even so slightly. He carefully wrapped his delicate fingers around the handle of the knife, bringing it close to his eyes to inspect the sharp tip. Once he pulled away from the cot, his desperate hands shook while he gently inserted the tip of the knife into the lock which was a part of the drawer. He pushed and twisted carefully, the sound of a click slowed his quickened breaths.

Grasping the handle of the drawer, he opened it to find many small glass vials, each with varying colors. The most common color being a liquid which was pure black. Every other vial had at least one duplicate of itself. The Outsider reached into the drawer and pulled out a few which had duplicates, hoping it would go unnoticed by Charles. He carefully slid the ones he had taken into the pocket of his tailcoat, making sure not to break the glass. After shutting the door, he stood up promptly, stumbling just slightly. The adrenaline flowing through him kept his body from limping or being dragged down by the constant pain. He made his way out of the examination room, slipping by the doors. He looked both ways of the hallway before starting off towards the room he was staying in.

He knew there would be consequences if he got caught. The worse one being what Emily would think of him, however she would react. That was exactly why he needed to find out what the royal physician was hiding before anyone caught onto him. The Outsider didn’t know what he was doing, the thought of being paranoid made him anxious. Maybe this was all for nothing? He glanced at the door to make sure it was properly shut before pulling the vials out of his pocket. The Outsider swished the liquid inside around, eyeing it closely. He didn’t know what it was, but he would find out. No one would know that he snuck into the examination room, not unless they were there to see him do it. He left no evidence behind, none.

None but the knife which still sat on the floor…

Chapter Text

The royal protector had business in Morley. Emily asked her father to send Wyman her regards while he was away, as much as it made her heart ache to do so.

Dunwall tower proved to be quiet for the next few days after the Outsider’s little stunt. He was unsure whether or not anyone caught onto what he did. Judging from the way Emily interacted with him, she was clueless. Emily placed her pen down, massaging her cramped hand, thinking about all the work she had yet to do. She pushed her chair away from her desk, keeping her arms extended to keep the desk in her reach, stretching. A few light knocks on her door made Emily look up, fixing her posture as she did so. “Come in.” She voiced tiredly. The sun was only just beginning to rise and Emily already found herself to be sick of working, displeased with herself. After everything with the coup, She was hard on herself. So hard that she herself didn’t know it.

The door slowly opened just a slight bit, then all the way. The Outsider stepped inside, a clear hesitancy in his steps. “Elliott.” Emily greeted him with a polite nod, overwhelmingly relieved to see him not on the verge of death lying on a hospital cot. For a moment he didn’t acknowledge her, taking note of the small changes in her office. Then, his mysterious gaze set upon the empress. “You said I was free to come here whenever I pleased.” He stated. It was more so a reminder to himself. He felt a sort of guilt for being in her office, after all.

“I’m glad you finally took advantage of it.” Emily smiled. Making it obvious she wanted him to come around more often, as she wasn’t always able to seek him out. He nodded, fingers tracing over the dust particles on a book which sat nearby. “Will you stay awhile?” The small hint of yearning in her voice clear. For a moment, the Outsider was unsure whether it was a question or request. Regardless, he nodded. He approached her, opening the window next to her desk. “The weather is nice today.” Amusement apparent in his voice, reminding Emily of how he would tell her stories in the void. Not a feeling she particularly enjoyed reliving. She agreed with a hum, reaching for her pen again to resume writing a letter.

The Outsider loomed over her desk for a moment, curious eyes skimming over what Emily had written so far. “It's for Lucia Pastor.” She answered his question before he could ask it. “Head of the Shindaerey Peak Miners' Family Committee.” She continued. The Outsider faced away from her, seating himself on the surface outside the window, eyes now on the captivating skyline. The humid air kissed his skin. He smiled with mirth. “She rings a bell.” Turning his head back, the Outsider looked at Emily. It took her a moment to notice his stare, meeting his eyes as soon as she did.

“Forget that. Have you been feeling well these last few days?” There was no concern in her voice, this oddly calmed him. He took a moment to choose his next words carefully, when he realized it would feel wrong no matter what he said, he answered while looking away. The Outsider didn’t want her to see his expression and start making assumptions, he noticed Emily had a bad habit of doing that. “I’ve been doing much better lately, still I fear I will fall into the same state again. Maybe when I least expect it.” He expressed his fear to her, now thinking back to when he snuck into the examination room. The Outsider was telling the truth, his body started finding ways to adapt to the pain, he still wanted to live. Those vials of blackness which hid behind his bed frame, the Outsider knew they held the answer. Yet he also hoped they didn’t, a part of him hoping he was just being paranoid.

A frown tugged at her lips, placing the pen in her hand down to think. “If it does happen again, we can’t risk you being all by yourself. I couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if you had been alone when that last attack happened. Perhaps someone should stay by your side to keep watch…” Emily thought aloud. The Outsider turned away from the encapsulating view of the skyline, looking at her with a disapproving expression. “People talk.” He smirked, taking a risk with his next words. “Why don’t I stay by your side?” He promptly turned away after speaking, not wanting her to see the silly look on his face. Emily shook her head and sighed, she was smiling too. “Do you mean that? It's wrong to make offers you can’t live up to.” Emily couldn't lie to herself and say that she opposed the idea, because she really really wanted it. She practically stared holes into the back of his head, desperately waiting for him to turn around again, but he didn’t.

“I mean it.” He simply said with a dry tone. He wanted to be able to clutch his heart just to stop it from beating so erratically. Her office fell silent for a precise three minutes, Emily knew this due to her staring at the grandfather clock by the desk anxiously. She cleared her throat to speak, unable to form a sensible sentence. How dare he make her feel this way? Making her breaths heavy, heart flutter, eyes water. More so, how dare she let him? “I don’t want you to be stuck here with me all day. I mean… I want you here, but not trapped in this office.” Despite Emily being the one to make the point, she worried that he would agree with her.

The Outsider faced her. “What if I wanted to?” He walked to the opposite side of where she sat, seating himself across from her. “I’ll sit right here and watch you work. That doesn’t sound boring to me.” Her tough exterior started to crack, especially when he looked at her that way. A small smile formed on her lips, and then she laughed. “I don’t think I would be able to focus.” Seeing her laugh brought him to smile too. The Outsider wanted to tell her how she drove him insane by just speaking, restraining himself from doing so. “I have just a few more letters left to assess.” Emily motioned towards the door with her head just slightly, knowing well that she wouldn’t get any work done with him around. Not with his prying green eyes on her. “I’ll join you in a few.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He simply said. The Outsider stood from the chair, peering down at her with a look of longing, hoping she didn’t pick it up. He gave her an approving nod, leaving her office with a quick pace.

The Outsider waited for a long time, every small noise made his head snap towards the door of his room, only to be met by nothing. If he stayed in his room for any longer, he was convinced he would lose his find. The former god decided that Emily had forgotten about meeting him, or maybe she was flooded with work? It didn’t matter, four hours passed. The silence was so thick he felt that he would drown in it. The main exit of Dunwall tower reminded him of many things. Mainly memories which belonged to others. His eyes lingered on Jessamine’s monument, then the greenhouse, thinking back to the conversation with Emily from his earlier days in the tower. Pressing on further, the scenes which displayed themselves beyond him were evocative. Dunwall always managed to look alluring, yet chilling after the sun went down. He passed by the greenhouse, keeping his hands in his pockets to keep them from the cold air. When he felt a hand on his shoulder, the Outsider whipped his head back, met with a familiar gaze.

Before he could speak, she started. “I’m sorry, I got caught up with some things.” Emily expected him to say something, only to be met with a cold silence. Reading his expression wasn’t easy, he looked focused and maybe even a little distraught. She walked alongside him, not saying a word. Was he upset with her? Or just feeling sentimental from the view? The Outsider looked towards her eventually, admiring the way her features glowed in the moonlight. “You definitely kept me waiting.” Emily scoffed in response to his words, it was more so in a playful manner. Not wanting to waste the precious time they finally managed to get together, she began speaking about the first thing that came to mind. “I’m sure you are enjoying your time in the tower without Corvo around.” She smiled, knowing how much her father grilled the Outsider. He shrugged in response. “I started growing a fondness for visiting Coldridge in the mornings. Speaking of the prison, how is your culprit holding up?” As soon as he saw the shift in Emily’s expression after his question, he knew Cecil Ryning had died. Emily knew she didn’t have to further elaborate.

“He finally spoke, gave Corvo something to work with. It was a lot really, he caved in on his final day.” Emily hadn’t met Cecil after their night in the Drapers Ward, a part of her was grateful she didn’t. Though by no means was she made uncomfortable by the interrogations, Emily preferred not to be around for them. The Outsider tilted his head up to look at the clouded sky as he spoke, more than glad with the outcome of the gangster. “Will you be going back to the ward?” He questioned, reliving the night he had gone with them. At the time, neither the empress, her royal protector, nor he himself knew of his physical state. Emily gave a nod, keeping her head forward. “There’s a lot of ground to cover. But with what we know now, things will go much finer. Especially since you won’t be there with us.” She held a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. “How thoughtful of you.” He shook his head, finding her words to be humorous.

“You shouldn’t stay out too late. It's best to be well rested for when Charles performs on you tomorrow. Corvo won’t be around for it this time, maybe that gives you a chance to get to know him better.” Emily looked off to the side. The Outsider felt his stomach sink, that had slipped his mind. No, that wasn’t right. Charles never informed him of any surgery. He clenched his fists in anxiety, internally panicking. That physician was going to do something terrible to him, Corvo not being around would only enable him to openly tear the Outsider limb from limb. He needed to think of something before that sick and twisted old man sucked out what little soul was left in the Outsider. There was still the entire night ahead of him, it was plenty of time to figure something out. That of course, didn’t make him any less nervous. In the meantime, he wanted to savor the time he still had left with Emily, it wasn’t common for them to be together like this. “I will manage.” He simply shrugged, not wanting her to be too concerned.

Ever since the events of the coup, Emily was drowning in work of all kinds, speaking to influential people, writing a numerous amount of letters, and just having to do a number of varying tasks around Dunwall. This eased the Outsider a little, it would be difficult for her to catch him sneaking around. As for the royal protector, he would be gone for a few days, for once the Outsider felt like things were in his favor. “When does Corvo return from Alba?” He questioned, trying to sound as casual as possible, a stern look settling upon his ancient features. Alba was the largest city of Morley, one with a very odd and enrapturing history. The city was rich with unsolved mysteries and secrets of all multitudes.

The only thing which concerned him was that Alba's port was relatively close to Dunwall. The Outsider’s knowledge on Corvo’s business there proved to be limited, but what he did know was that the royal protector's work resided near the harbor, informed of this by overhearing a conversation between two of the very talkative maids who often toiled around his room. Emily pressed two fingers to her chin, visibly trying to recall what she had been told. “Four nights. Are you missing him already?” She teased. The Outsider crossed his arms, finding a wide ledge to seat himself on. Emily mirrored his actions, seating herself next to him. For a while, they sat still, both organizing the jumble of words in their head they had to force themselves to restrain.

The Outsider took Emily by her marked hand, gently urging her to place her head onto his shoulder. His body moved on its own, and for once, he didn’t try to stop it. A grin formed on Emily’s face, wishing he had done so sooner. “I want us to stay like this forever, is that wrong?” She knew for a fact that he would not disagree with her, able to hear the Outsider’s answer before his lips even parted. Regardless of the two doing this outside, she had no fear of anyone seeing them. It was no secret that the Empire of the Isles feared its empress. After everyone had witnessed Emily’s unforgiving wrath, a seemingly endless bloodshed of anyone who dared to even look at her wrong, her presence was not one to be taken lightly anymore. Her journey did make Emily return to the throne which was rightfully hers with a great sense of humility, and a far kinder heart for her citizens. Though dare anyone cross her, may the Outsider save them.

As she anticipated, the Outsider hummed in response. He rubbed his thumb over the fabric which covered her mark, speaking softly, as he used to when telling her stories in the past. “There are a lot of things wrong with this warped world, this isn’t one of them.” After that, a long silence followed. It truthfully turned out to be a euphoric scene. The Outsider caressed Emily’s resilient hand with his frail, both having their eyes on the moon. They stayed like that for a while, holding onto each other lovingly. There wasn’t a need to express anything, their words hovered over them

Emily could barely feel her hands anymore upon parting with the Outsider, the merciless cold ate away at her warmth. She stood from the ledge, gently dusting off her pristine coat. Her brown eyes moved to gaze down at the Outsider, he was occupied with buttoning up his tailcoat. Taking his distraction as an advantage, Emily inched closer to him, taking him by the chin gently. She raised his head up so that he could meet her now playful eyes. For a few seconds they surveyed each other's faces, never having gotten the chance to look at each other so closely before. When she was finished looking, she moved in to plant a kiss on his lips. The kiss ended as soon as it started, or that's what it felt like to him. As soon as Emily released her gentle hold on his chin, she whispered into his ear.. “Don’t stay up too late.” She stood back with her usual posture now, promptly turning around and heading back to the tower, leaving the Outsider longing.

There was a shift in the air once she wasn’t in his sight anymore. He clenched his fists until his nails dug painfully into his skin, eliciting a stinging sensation. Emily was why he needed to live, and so he would. He felt reborn, and the most determined he’d ever been in his life. He sprinted in the tower's direction without wasting a second. His entire body throbbed, begging for a break. The Outsider navigated the halls quickly, tripping over his own boots at times. It was such a contrast compared to his first time there, lost and muddled. Stinging green eyes landing on the chipped door to his bedroom, the Outsider stepped inside in a rushed manner, shutting it behind himself. He breathed heavily, catching his breath. He only hushed himself upon the sound of approaching footsteps and unintelligible murmurs. One of the voices was recognized as Hargrett, a maid who frequently brought clean clothes to the Outsider’s door. He listened to what the two women were discussing so late into the night.

“What a gem, to come all the way from Old Lamprow.” Hargrett chimed, sounding awfully enthusiastic considering the hour. “All the way? I’d made such a trip to find myself some decent work here. It wasn’t too far.” The other maid replied, clearly grumpy and tired. For a moment there was silence, then the conversation resumed. “We need more practitioner folks around here. I’m glad she chose Dunwall to pursue her work. Though, I couldn’t imagine why the young lady would make such a decision, but I’m not going to make a fuss over it, oh dear god no.” Hargrett’s words were followed by a weak cough. Now they were passing right by his door, their voices loud and clear. “Where else would she reside, in Poolwick?” The other maid spoke, her words causing both women to break out in laughter. Hargrett’s laugh morphed into a sickening cough. The Outsider heard a few thumps, presumably the other maid comforting Hargrett as she wheezed.

Once the coughing ceased, Hargrett spoke, her voice now stringy and coarser than usual. “I think I’ll have to pay this Colette Vaungh a visit once she opens up.” The two maids laughed again, taking a turn at the end of the hallway. Their voices slowly faded away. The Outsider moved back, no longer pressing his ear against the door. He practically lunged towards his desk, grabbing a pen and messily scribbling down the name, Colette Vaungh. A young physician pursuing her career in medicine, right here in Dunwall. The name was unfamiliar, but the Outsider would put his life at risk to find this young woman. If there was someone who could examine the vials of mysterious black liquid, she was the one. As out of the blue as his actions were about to be, no other rational reason presented itself. Disappearing into the night was unwise, yet so was waiting until the operation to act. He needed to find proof to present to Emily.

His eyes skimmed his small room, landing on an old bag which was covered in webs. The Outsider stepped towards it, kneeling down. He lifted up the bag and violently shook it to rid of the dust and webs. He placed his notebook into the bag, along with it a pen. With one big motion, he lifted up all the clothes slumped over his chair and squeezed them into the bag. Never having to pack his things before, his lack of experience was painfully obvious. This was all very spontaneous, and if he were lucky, Colette wouldn’t be hard to find. He didn’t have a plan, that fact filled him with adrenaline. Finally, he picked up a small rag and inched towards the bed. The Outsider knelt down, reaching his slender hand to a hidden part of the bed frame, a large metal flap on the bottom. From there he pulled out the vials. Carefully, he wrapped the vials in an old rag, gently placing them into the bag.

“Colette Vaungh, I will find you.” He mumbled.

Chapter Text

Hello Emsider fans. I am here with a short announcement. First, no I am not discontinuing this series, I plan to finish it and already know which direction I will be going with the plot. I also want to apologize for how long it takes me to upload chapters which are barely even 4,000 words.

The more I continue this fic the harder it is for me to find the motivation to do so. I’ve been feeling uninspired and also a bit tired of writing for the same fandom without branching out into other things.

What I’m trying to say is that I will be taking a break from “We’ve Changed” for a month or two. I’m still writing, just for other things at the moment. Again, I will be finishing this work, I promise!

I’m not entirely sure if anyone is still sticking to this story and keeping up with it, but I’d like to think that some of you are, which makes me not want to leave this incomplete. I don’t know if any of you would be interested in the other things I’ve been uploading, but if the fandom interests you, do check it out!

In conclusion, I’m taking a break from this series for a month or two (either that or until I have the motivation to continue it) so that I can work on other fics. I suggest subscribing to this series so you’ll be notified through email when I update it again.

Thank you for your patience and loyalty! Take care.

Chapter Text

If there were one word to describe the streets of Dunwall past midnight, it would be ‘hostile’. Barely any people out and about, those who were offered threatening scowls. Even with a thick cloak layered over his tailcoat, the frequent chill in the air never failed to send an unnerving crack down Elliott’s spine. His mind desperately grasped at how lucky he’d been to overhear the maids mention the young practitioner coming to Dunwall. One positive among two dozen negatives. The universe must have aligned to bless him so greatly. In theory, a full name would be enough to find the young woman. For now he focused on actually finding her, only then would he worry of her agreeing to help him identify the strange liquid in the vials he had stolen from Charles’ examination room. After the coup, many Dunwall citizens had gotten terribly injured or sick. Even months after, the damage was still rooted deep in the city's core. Maybe she would be drowning with desperate patients. Elliott shook away the thought, reminding himself to take things one at a time. There was a chance she resided far west, as she’d come down from Old Lamprow. Then came the fact that one of the maids had mentioned making the same trip as Colette, meaning she must have been near Dunwall tower. If the maids were talking about her, so must have the other citizens. Asking around was his most viable option.

For now he needed to move, be anywhere but the tower. As far as Elliott knew, he could have stayed one more night and woken up the next morning strapped to that damned cot, Charles looming over him, scalpel in hand. The thought shook him to his core, reassuring him that sneaking out now was the right thing to do. In the morning, when the citizens of Dunwall were feeling less grouchy, he would ask around. The thought of one of the maids finding his room empty and informing Emily made his stomach sink. She would panic and most likely go out to find him, soon the two best swordsmen of the isles would be hunting him, as they could not ask the public to be alert of a man who looked strikingly similar to the Outsider. At least a dozen people would recognize his face from posters, undoubtedly causing the entirety of Dunwall to erupt in a chaotic mess of fearful men and angry geezers. For now he had only Emily to worry of, then in four nights Corvo would be back from Morley. He had no idea of telling how long this was going to take, but if things worked out in his favor, maybe by tomorrow afternoon he and Colette Vaungh would be discussing the black fluid. Not letting his thoughts blow completely out of proportion, Elliott brought himself back to the present.

Luckily people tended to keep to themselves at this hour, no one wanted anything to do with a hunched over man wearing a worn out cloak trudging down the street. His bad posture was by no means intentional, it just happened to be the optimal position to reduce stomach pains. Never had he felt so involved, used to watching the world collapse into itself from the sidelines. Watch as one person desperately tried to hold up the thin pillars which barely supported the years of tragedy and famine that would undo themselves on the isles if to fall. He wondered if anybody had given one of his shrines any offerings that day, wondering what those who worshiped the Outsider would do if they found out that he was human, existing only in the flesh now. Like many others that night, he shook off the thought, knowing it would be better to focus on the present. His void like essense lived through Emily now, all that was left for him was pain and suffering.

Something caught his sad, green eyes. To the right side, an alleyway formed between a parlor and bar. The center of the alleyway was lit from one small light that resided by a door. The back exit to the bar, he assumed. The light looked warm and familiar, and like a raven to silver, he was immediately drawn to it. Elliott trudged towards the light, plopping himself down next to the bar's back door. His muscles thanked him, some pain easing seconds within sitting. He needed a break anyway.

-------------------------

As the night's hours passed dauntingly, various drunks staggered out the back door. The warm air inside kissed his skin, and the smell of booze made his nose scrunch up. Most did not bat an eye, few offered scowls and condescending glances, ironically. Elliott paid none of them mind, having fetched out one of the black vials from his bag earlier. He tapped a finger at the glass, watching the blackness slosh from side to side. He thought of many things, all of them having to do with Emily. He missed his empress greatly. What she made him feel was unlike anything else. Nothing that the void could recreate in its own twisted way. She made his heart ache, as if a hole burnt right through it. And though the feeling hurt so very much, he was addicted to it. His stomach churned at the very thought of her, and the times she really was there speaking with him, he felt empty because she was not yet entirely his. Yet she still made him feel so full. She gave him purpose. A life to live, a life to appreciate, a life to await, and a woman to love who made it all so dangerously worth it that he might just do anything for her.

Frequently he closed his eyes to relive the tender yet cold touch of her skin. His thumb traced the cork of the vile as he thought of her, imaging how she would react if he touched her that way where she was sensitive. The mere thought gave him goosebumps, practically feeling the heat from where he sat. Then that familiar smell of booze filled his nose again. When he opened his eyes, two mud colored boots met his gaze. Elliott’s eyes moved up slowly, dreading whatever life had to throw at him now. There stood a man, around 5’9 if he were to guess. Half his face was lit from the bar, highlighting an icy gaze, the other half engulfed in the alley's darkness. He held onto a garbage bag in his right hand, placing it down at the sight of Elliott.

“Are you looking for trouble, kid? Go on. Scram,” he said.

The bar’s warmth was additing, his body longed for more. He wanted it to swallow him whole. In hopes of stretching out the moment just for a couple more seconds, Elliott explained himself, “I’m awaiting a friend, he won’t be long.”

At this, the man's lips curled disapprovingly. “Let me guess, five more minutes?” He made it clear it wasn’t the first time he had heard the excuse. Elliott gave a distasteful frown, having no other option. “You’re just a kid, washed up so soon?” There was some humor to his words, having gone completely unnoticed by Elliott.

“I’m traveling across Dunwall to see someone.”

The stranger kissed his teeth to that, some sympathy in the action. “Is it a girl? I’ll tell you now, boy. You best wait until you can handle yourself.” His eyes darted to Elliott’s scrawny, thin body, then back up to his face.

The man did not seem too bad, the opportunity presented itself and Elliott took it. “My mother is sick. I heard the name Colette Vaungh being spread around, I need her expertise.”

The man kissed his teeth again, this annoyed Elliott. “What is it shes got?” he pried.

“She– it’s no ordinary sickness, you see. Her body is deteriorating,” he said with a little too much ease.

“You should arrange something with the empress, son. The royal physician will do you wonders. Before it happened, my wife was very sick. I pleaded for the empress’ help and she arranged for my wife to be examined by him. He fixed her up real fast.” His demeanor portrayed something so dissimilar to his personality, from what Elliott could tell. He welcomed the surprise.

The advice of consulting Emily for the royal physician's help almost made him laugh, as twisted as it was. The stranger knew no better, but his advice was essentially for Elliott to run straight back to his death, something which felt more and more impending with each passing second. “I’m afraid she is far too busy. I did try to arrange something recently, but with all the rebuilding happening there is little hope.”

The stranger nodded at Elliott’s fair point. He picked up the trash bag again, tossing it off to the side, near the other wall of the alley. “I wish you all the best in reaching Miss Vaungh then.” To this, Elliott gave a slight nod. “Why don’t you come inside for a bit? We’ve grape nuts.” He stood slowly, flinching at a big ache that shook his entire body.

“I haven’t been on track for very long,” he said, moreso speaking to himself.

“It’s cold out, son. Don’t be so harsh on yourself.”

“I appreciate your kindness. I’m Elliott.” He stepped into the bar after the kind stranger, finally getting that gratifying feeling of the warmth consuming him.

“Edmund Wagner. I’ve been running this establishment since 1816.” He seated himself on a barstool, reaching for a glass jar filled to the brim with grape nuts. The gruffness of his voice reminded Elliott of Corvo. The only difference was that it suited Corvo, a cold and somber man. Edmund’s personality did not stay true to his demeanor. Though, it was apparent that a few tough years did wear down the wrinkles on his skin. He turned his head to the side to scratch at his unpolished stubble, and what Elliott saw made him swallow a gasp. The other half of Edmunds face wore a large nasty burn, as red and fleshy as they get. The severeness of it had taken half of Edmund’s lips with it. The only hair that managed to remain was on his eyebrow, even his lashes had withered away.

“What happened to you?” Elliott immediately asked, unable to bite his tongue. Edmund sighed, grabbing a handful of grape nuts, he shuffled them in his palm before throwing the mouthful down the hatch.

“Got caught up with the wrong crowd.”

Now he really had Elliott’s attention. “But you’ve separated from them now, correct?” He joined Edmund, sitting on the stool next to him.

“Correct.” He flashed a smile, one which read more relieved than anything.

“Were they gangsters?” He pressed him more on the matter.

“They were. This isn’t something I am particularly interested in discussing.” Edmund closed the jar of nuts and pushed it away. “They burnt me because I wanted out.” Edmund sighed.

“Did your morals get the best of you?” Elliott tilted his head.

“I like to think that my virtue has always been my compass. I did not join them being aware of the questionable business they’d running on in the sidelines, or should I say front line? Whichever it is, I wanted out after I realized what kind of people I had established myself with.” Edmund said.

“How unfortunate, for them to take advantage of a kind person such as yourself.” Elliott said, he paused then continued, “what could they want from someone like you?”

Edmund rose from the stool, walking behind the bar table. “My business. They asked me to relocate or just expand. I’m not sure what it was, but a shoppe residing just by Dunwall tower closed due to bankruptcy. I was told to open up there, saying they would cover all the costs. Naturally, I was skeptical. Expanding meant a drastic increase in income in the near future, and they did not even want a cut of the money. Soon enough those bastards told me that it was all under the condition that I let them operate their little blackmarket in the new location's cellar.”

Elliott clutched the ends of the stool he sat on. This was big, very big. “A blackmarket right below Dunwall tower. Is that not a bit foolish?” he asked.

Edmund shook his head, clasping his hands together. “That’s what I thought at first, but they are way ahead of the empress. They are causing all sorts of mayhem in Drapers Ward as a ploy, meanwhile they are establishing a circuit of stores right under the empress' nose. Business owners are the perfect vessel for those parasites to infest, we are the ideal disguise for them. I heard from a couple of friends that I was not their first recruit. They have done this sick scheme with many others, more than often does it work.”

“And you haven’t informed the empress or royal protector about any of this?” Elliott sounded annoyed. He knew the answer that awaited, just about having to restrain himself from yelling at Edmund for his stupidity. As if he did not already have a three course meal on this plate, this just added to the pile of shit to deal with.

Edmund shook his head, clearly ashamed of himself. “Before you patronize me, I’m scared. If they find out someone told, they will undeniably come for everyone who said no to their little scheme.”

Soon, Emily’s home would crumble right below her feet. And with a weakened empire, there was no hope for the Kaldwin dynasty to recover this time around. Dunwall was already barely holding onto security by a frail string. The thought of this shook him to his core, Elliott stepped off from the bar stool. “I should go. If the empire is to fall soon, I want my mother to be in good condition to get away from this plague of rotten people with me while we still can.” He went to the front entrance.

“Colette Vaungh,” Edmund said, “just west of the Clocktower. I heard she lives in a cramped apartment in the residential area. You find her apartment address, kid. Get out of this sick city while you still can.” He reached his arm out towards the bar table and grabbed the jar of grape nuts, underhand tossing it to Elliott.

For a moment he was startled, catching the jar, he fumbled it between his hands as if it were scalding. He settled down soon enough, letting the jar slip into his bag. He heard the faint clink of vials colliding. His eyes met Edmund’s, a thankful but solemn smile on his face. “Thank you, Edmund. We will meet again, whether that be in this world or not.” Edmund nodded, waving him off.

As soon as Elliott stepped out of the bar, he made sure he was out of the man's sight before tightly clutching his chest. He had to warn Emily, otherwise all would be lost. Yet, now all that kept him from Colette was a number, one he could attain by simply asking around. In a way, it was as if he were deciding between Emily and himself. But he needed her in every way imaginable. He loved her. Elliott turned away, not facing west any longer. Right as he took his first step in Dunwall towers direction, a pain erupted, starting at his leg and spreading through the rest of his body like a wildfire. He stumbled back, hitting a dumpster as he fell. The impact made a loud bang tear through the quiet night air. Elliott held his breath, waiting for Edmund to come running out, but he never did. His breaths quicked, tearings dared to spill at any given moment. “It hurts,” he whimpered to himself, “by the void it hurts.” He looked east, then west, then east again. Then it hit him. If Charles planned to kill him in the morning, how was he to warn Emily? It was settled then, Colette first. The Clocktower did not call for a long journey anyways, already he neared fairly close to it. From where he stood, the clock and Dunwall tower were equidistant from one another. Weakly, he stood again. He chose the west.

And on her couch, slept Colette Vaungh peacefully, unaware of the journey which awaited.

Chapter Text

The lively winds blasted through the Shindaerey Peak, where the world met the void. If one were to say all the somberness the Isles emitted stemmed from the peak, they would not be far from the truth. The frequent cold chill that passed through Elliott made him feel very much like a ghost. Unwatched by prying eyes, in search of life, yet aimlessly wandering. The sun rose quickly, its fierce glare threatening to spill over Dunwall at any given moment. In the distance he could see the Boyle Mansion, birthing a whole new set of thoughts to entertain his mind. He watched Corvo Attano toss a pebble into the watercourse, forever smearing the past with his decisions fifteen years ago, the ripples which tore through history in a gracefully destructive manner. And now the turn was frighteningly his. How must the Royal Protector have felt doing what he did? Absolutely sure? Utterly unsure? At some point in time, Elliott had known the answer. Now his memories as a former god were fuzzy. But that was good, right? Did it not make him more human than he originally sought himself out to be?

Dunwall’s citizens arose from their restless sleep to take on another dispiriting work day. More toll on their emaciated bodies, just to get by, and barely at that. People sheepishly peered down at the streets from their narrow windows, opening them up to let in the cold air which perturbed them no longer. Everything seemed frozen in time so early in the dawn, workers already fantasized about being lulled to sleep that night by the sounds of the Wrenhaven river; having long gotten used to the mysterious piercing screams. Whatever creature lurked in patience every night for a clueless prey had been hungry now, perhaps Cecil Ryning’s rotting body would soon be tossed into her cool embrace, keeping her fed for another month or so. And when she longed for another, the screams ensued yet again.

Elliott did not dare to inch any closer to the Boyle Mansion than called for, once close enough he planned to head north, where the Clocktower loomed. With each step he took, the grape nuts in his bag rattled, the sound became maddening, and it never seemed to drown out. Very soon they’d check Elliott’s room, finding his bed empty. He could feel Emily’s heart stopping, it felt so real he clutched his own at the very thought of her. The question of whether or not she’d still love him after all this mocked Elliott, how selfish did it make him to consider himself first? Above all things? He had forgiven her for saving him, no matter how much he retaliated. Now it was her turn to be rescued. He seemingly possessed all the keys to save the isles, and his lover. Unbeknownst to Elliott, he would eventually have to pick between the woman who gave his life purpose and the isles.

Not far from where he was, an old lady running a concession stand near a theater stood in the cold. Her frail body shook, and he swore her old, withered bones would cave in at any given moment. Yet as she trembled so terribly, the ends of her warm smile brought out her rosy, wrinkled cheeks. Elliott approached the pathetic but respectable stand with an entirely different demeanor, a straightened back, confident stride, and a smile. As much as his body begged to revert back to his henchman-like form, he sucked up the aching feeling for just a moment. “Hey, quite cold isn’t it?” Elliott greeted.

At first she seemed taken aback, quickly pulling herself together. He did not for one second blame her, Dunwall’s citizens wore baleful faces, the word ‘community’ had long diminished after the coup, as if there were anything there prior to it anyway. “Far too cold, curse me for not bundling up some more. Could I offer you some candied beetles?” Her shaky hand moved down to pick up one of the small tins that sat in a pile. Elliott immediately shook his head, sparing her the trouble. “I’m looking for someone, could you help me?” The woman arched a wise brow, now she suspected he meant no good, not a far off assumption to make. “Her name is Colette Vaungh, the practitioner who just moved to Dunwall?” Her eyes lit up with recognition, “I know where Ms. Vaungh is staying, yes.” Finally, a thing working in his favor. Though, much had been in the past few hours. Mr. Wagner, useful details on the gangsters, now this old lady. Everything clicked so perfectly into place, almost too perfectly. Nevermind that now, he needed to squeeze Colette’s address out of this hardworking gran. And from the looks of it, Elliott was going to have to pull out the best of his social abilities. In hopes of them all not having run dry yet, it’d been a long morning. “My mother has been really sick, I desperately need her help,” he pleaded, “if you could just tell me where she is staying.” At first, her gaze leaked sympathy. Then, it was void of any emotion at all. “I’ve spoken to Colette, she comes around here when she can, doing charity work. Always in a rush, always fully booked, always muttering about those unwelcome showing up at her door without an appointment. Sorry about your mother.”

He bit his tongue, wanting to punch her wrinkly face, despite her reasoning being completely justified. The more he thought about it, would Vaungh even be willing to help? What if she were just as stuck up and miserable as every other person in Dunwall? Now that he considered it, were those from Old Lamprow not notorious for possessing no moral principles? “I understand her frustration, I really do. But my mo–” She cut him off, speaking harshly now, “I can’t help you. Take your act somewhere else.” His act? What act? The truth of the situation was far worse than having a sick mother. Elliott found himself fuming, rather unlike him.

Feeling the sun heat the back of his head reminded him of the people, how they would soon be out and about. Desperate people bombaring Colette. Time worked against him. He showed a face of defeat, backing away from the concession stand. The east of the Boyle Mansion sat primarily vacant, the likelihood of a stranger witnessing his next move proved low. Elliott strolled off to the edge of the theater, hiding himself behind a thick, cream colored pillar. Crouching down, he rummaged through his bag. Feeling cool glass press against his skin, he grasped onto the jar of grape nuts. Pulling it out, he eyed the jar curiously. A cruel thought he did more than just entertain took hold of him. All for the greater good, all for the greater good, all for the greater good, all for the greater good, all for the greater good.

He rose, walking further on and turning at the edge of the theater. Scaffold boards towered over his small frame, wobbling dangerously in the wind. Fabrics violently whipped around in the air, just barely clasping to the bolts securing them to the unsteady, wooden structure. Elliott approached it, going on his tiptoes to tear some of the cold, wet cloth. Jar still in one hand, he chucked it at the ground. Grape nuts scattered the vicinity of the ground impacted, as did shards of glass. He swiped his hand down, gently picking up a larger shard with just his thumb and index. Using the cloth as a sort of grip, he carefully wrapped it around one end of the glass. Elliott clutched it gently to get a feel of the makeshift weapon. As he turned around, a cold wind almost swept him off his unsuspecting feet. The wind spoke to him, do you really want to do this?, it chanted sadly. It was made up of many small voices, reminding him of the void. It seemed like so much more, but in truth, all it was, was a figment. A fabrication of some greater good or evil, beyond even his comprehension.

His numb, blistered fingers were a mere afterthought now. His body moved, almost mechanically, on its own. “The things I do for you, my empress.” Elliott turned the corner, heading straight for the concession stand. It took her a moment, but the old woman eventually saw the troublesome stranger approaching yet again. “Did I not make myself clear? My grandson works for the grand guard, I’ll make this known.” She quieted instantly when he raised the shard of glass, having it inches from her nose. “And how do you plan on doing that without a tongue?” It all felt so awfully out of place, his mind revolted at his own actions. There were a dozen ways it could all go wrong, for once he trusted violence, no matter how far beneath him it was. “Tell me where Colette is staying.” Her words came instinctually, “the residential area….w– it– it’s west of the Clocktower.”

“I know that already, I want her apartment number.” Not for a second did he tremble, his hand remained firm, as did the glass he held. A whole new wave of dread washed over the old woman's face, she seemingly aged fifteen years right in front of him. “I have it written here, under the stand. I’m going to kneel down, okay?” His eyes gave her all the affirmation she needed, so she knelt. He heard her knees crack, the sound pulled some pity from him. He wondered if the lady could find it in herself to operate the stand ever again after this event. The deeper part of him did not care, good causes call for immoral actions. “It’s seventy-two.” As the lady couched up, she dreaded seeing him pointing that shard of glass again, but the mysterious man had disappeared, as if he were never there at all. All that remained was the glass shard with some fabric clinging onto it, tossed on the ground where he once stood.

The Clocktower came nearer and nearer into view, its tip pointing accusingly at the sky. After all this time he had not even thought to consider how to convince the practitioner to help him. Maybe she would slam her door in his face, or rather not open the door at all. The black vials clicked around in his bag, the thought of Charles injecting him with the mysterious liquid made Elliott shudder. Just how many years of his life did it seemingly shed away? Just how many times had the doctor assured Emily that the sickness will worsen before it gets better? Just how long was she willing to accept that? Watching him wither away right in front of her. The residential area proved to be just as Elliott imagined. Lower end apartment buildings stuffed together, the narrowest alleyways imaginable just barely separating them. All sorts of shady business happened there, he presumed. A few people loomed around, the rest had gone off to work, most likely in the dead businesses nearby. He considered asking an idling stranger which building had apartment seventy-two, but decided it’d be better if no one else saw his face. Especially not after he threatened that woman with a piece of broken glass from a jar of grape nuts.

With all that considered, Elliott took his chance with the building on the far left. Its thin paint peeled off the walls, some remains sitting near the ground. Moss held its tight grasp around the building's edges, giving the complex an oddly nostalgic appearance. On the outward window sills, dead plants and curious trinkets stood sadly as if forgotten. Near one particular sill sat a foil crane, peering down on the residential area as if watching over it. He stepped into the building while looking up at the resident’s outer decorations. The inside wasn’t any better, the stairs were worn down and dirtied, the floors had dark blemishes, the paint off the inner walls peeled, the air smelt damp, like soil. The only source of lighting the interior got was from the small, rectangular windows which sat around the hall. Elliott took notice of the disparity between the apartment building and Dunwall tower, an absent acknowledgment that would surely eat away at his already withering brain overtime.

Elliott started up the spiral stairs, careful not to slip off the remnants of dirt and rainwater on the cracked marble steps. He had no doubt that the building had already sealed its fate by not having maintenance done, but Deliliah’s reign must have not done much better for it. Soon some doors came into view, matte black letters displaying the apartment numbers. Ninety-four, five, six… Wrong building. He stepped out casually, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. He took his chance with the building one over the current one, walking in as if he were a resident. Elliott was pleased to find this to be the seventy building. He read each door number, seventy-one, seventy-three, seventy-four. Had his eyes deceived him? Elliott looked back, seventy-one, seventy-nine, seventy-eight.

He slapped himself across the face, his body ached. The number plates started to melt. They slid right down the doors, leaving a black imprint. The bag with his belongings, which also contained the vials was ripped violently out of his hands, thrown against the nearby wall. He heard the sound of smashing glass when it hit the wall, watching black liquid ooze out from the fabric once the bag laid in defeat on the ground. “NO!” he cried. He reached towards the bag, unable to move his legs at all. Elliott’s knees sunk to the ground and they shook, overcome with the sheer pain. Not for a second did his lying eyes leave the bag, and what they entertained next terrified him. The black ooze began to gather together and start towards Elliott. Before he could let out another yell, the liquid threw itself at the Outsider, attaching itself to his face.

It burned terribly, and if he wasn’t mistaken his skin started to peel off from the touch of the ooze. He fell back, hands desperately clawing at his face to try and rid of the liquid. His fingertips only burned, and when he lost all hope, Elliott let his hands drop to his sides as he laid on the dirtied floor in defeat. His eyes moved up to the ceiling, and instead of the cracked paint, the void sky intrigued him. “Come home,” said a familiar voice, “come home Outsider.” said Emily. His quiet whimpers and all other noise went away, and then it was only black.

The sky swirled, strange black stones, bleak air, cold, familiarity, comfort, silence. The void. Elliott woke up in the same position he fell unconscious, on the floor with his hands at his sides. His face stopped burning, but his fingertips felt like they were on fire. He sat up and eyed his hands curiously, black fingertips. His eyes moved up, not wanting to concern himself with such a small matter in comparison to the rest of the situation. A clear path made just for him presented itself. On the far end stood a tall pillar, behind the pillar he could see some sort of fabric whipping in the wind, yet it was not windy in the void. Had the Outsider forgotten how his own world worked? Or had he never known how it worked at all? Was it never his world? He stood and started for the pillar, knowing well that there would be no other way out, if any at all. That’s just how the void worked, it told you what to do and you complied, otherwise nothing would be left for you.

His body did not have much will left, the void understood this and made the path smooth. No bumps, no jumps, just smooth, cold black stone. He complied and walked on, aches ripping through his every movement. He fixed his eyes on the fabric that wooshed around behind the pillar. Something about it proved so mesmerizing, he could not understand what. Elliott lost all hope, he did not do as little as to think of Colette Vaughn, despite how close he’d come. He belonged to the void now, and it would do whatever it pleased with him. Elliott reached the tall black pillar. He took a deep breath and swore he felt his ribs crack. He winced and stepped around it, eyes widening at who greeted him. “Emily Kaldwin.” He managed to breathe out. Her demeanor was unlike unusual, a happily calm expression, far too relaxed, and unalert. She fit so perfectly in the void, like a puzzle piece. Her beauty left him breathless, but the contact she made with his eyes gave him room to breathe. Her assuring gaze only grew more assuring when she gently took his chin between her thumb and index. Emily leaned close into his face and whispered, “come home, Outsider.” There was a venom behind her eyes, a threat. And before Elliott could pull away from her, Emily kissed him on the lips. In a way it felt his fate was sealed. This was not his lover, but a sad attempt by the void, trying to mimic her unmatched beauty. He closed his eyes and let ‘her’ take him, not having the energy to pull away now.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened his eyes, met by a charming gray. He felt cushioned and safe, sitting up and holding his head. It felt as if all his blood was going to spill out of his head if he even thought to tilt his head the wrong way. The air smelt familiar. Damp, like soil. Elliott looked back into the stranger's gray eyes, suppressing a pathetic cry. There stood a woman with dirty blonde hair. She looked younge but incredibly worn out, yet she held a hopeful smile. She gently pushed Elliott back onto the couch, urging him to rest. “You know,” she started, “I usually don’t take patients without an appointment. But when they drop dead at my door? I would be wicked to not, wouldn’t I?”

“Colette Vaughn,” he spoke.

Chapter Text

He trailed her across the great expansive void. The back of her coat flailed violently as she eluded him. What confused Elliott was how he managed to meet even a fraction of her speed considering his physical condition, he had never felt better in that moment. He didn’t know why he chased after her so desperately, what would he do once he caught her? The logic of dreams never failed to go over his head after becoming flesh.

Yet, this did not feel like a dream, certain that the events unfolding around him were indeed real. The real empress beyond him, the genuine black beneath him, the most absolute peaking rocks surrounded him. Every graceful leap she’d take, he mimicked in his own clumsy manner.
The last sensation he felt had been a sudden jolt that rocked his whole frame, causing him to come tumbling down. The sleek rock below him collapsed and he fell.

—

When Elliott awoke, his head snapped around the lounge. It was definitely one of the more unique rooms he had seen. It’d be sad and gray if it weren’t for the mass of plants kept around. They seemed shoved into every space the room would allow without being too crowded. He held a frail hand to his forehead in a complete daze.
It wasn’t a couch he’d rested on, but an emerald green ottoman. Parallel to him sat four chairs with green cushions of a similar shade. He presumed they were for waiting patients. The apartment’s air did not smell damp and earthy as the rest of the complex, but sharp like rubbing alcohol. The place must have been disinfected often. Tiny bursts of cluttered noises came from one of the two rooms nearby.

One pair of dirty work shoes rested near the front door Elliott had collapsed nearby earlier. Recalling the incident made him blush in embarrassment. Nonetheless, he could barely grasp the fact that he had actually managed the trip, and on his own at that. Though his body felt utterly useless now, a sense of optimism filled him.

Colette was hospitable enough to take him in, and apparently enough to make him tea, he concluded from the sudden sweetness tickling his nostrils. Using his wobbly arms, he propped himself to glance back at the room that was the source of the noise. Two large, potted plants guarded both sides of the doorframe, and he could see even more green monstrosities sitting out on the balcony. Clearly, this woman had an intense passion. He swore the leaves would curl up and grow fangs if his gaze lingered on them any longer. The vines stretched towards him, beckoning him to come closer so they could tear his flesh off.

Feeling a sudden wave of eeriness creep over him, Elliott slid off the ottoman like a ragdoll, making his way to the presumed kitchen. If his body had a mouth (it did), it would be screeching violently. A small whimper escaped him, grunting softly when grasping the door frame with his left hand. He peered into the kitchen. The trip across the lounge was only about four steps, enough to kill a man in his state. Met with familiar, dirty blonde hair, he couldn’t help but smile out of relief. Colette Vaughn stood over a small, rusty stove, brewing some herbal tea of sorts. The clear yellow liquid in the faded pink saucepan bubbled and brewed like a witches cauldron. Colette turned around to reach for an ingredient, startled at the sight of him.
   “Oh my!” A hand immediately went to her mouth when she giggled politely. “I apologize. I almost forgot that you were here.” She continued to pick up a small shaker filled with what looked like ordinary sugar, but when she sprinkled just the slightest amount into the pot, it turned a vile green.

Almost immediately, a pungent smell filled the room. He swore he could vomit at any moment, especially when he saw the woman take a deep breath of the air in. He shot her a half disgusted and questioning glance, urging a wise smile from her.
  “It’s good for the lungs, try to take some of it in,” she said.
Elliott had just about enough of these crazy practitioners. Colette poured the dreadful liquid into a small cup, then she carefully lifted it up with both hands. No longer able to stand, Elliott stumbled onto the nearby wooden chair that sat by the small dining table.
   “You seem awfully calm considering you don’t know where your belongings are,” Colette smiled. Elliott was wise enough to know his things were in good hands. Not all knowledge eludes you when in a bag of flesh.
   “I’m sorry that we met the way that we did, Ms. Vaughn. I desperately need your help.”
   “They all do, friend. What is your name?” She sat across from him on the table.
   “Elliott.”
She seemed brutally skeptical, and this absolutely terrified him.
   “Well, Elliott. I’m sorry to say that I rummaged through your belongings. You never know who you can trust. I must say,” she paused for a moment, “I am rather interested in this.” Seemingly out of nowhere, Colette brought up one of the black vials. “Is it a poison of sorts?”

For a second he thought she was joking, but the young woman appeared dead serious. In all honesty, it might have been a poison. Maybe Charles had been slowly increasing his doses of poison this entire time.
   “Ms. Vaughn,” he began, “I came in search of you. Really, I was hoping you could help me identify the liquid. I’m aware how out of order this all seems. I have no knowledge in alchemy, but I must know what these vials contain. It could potentially be dangerous.”
She slid the cup of tea towards him, urging him to drink.
   “This is definitely the most unusual thing that has happened to me in Dunwall. Drink first, Elliott. You are going far too fast for me to process any of this.” She held a hand to her forehead, much like he did earlier.

   “Yes… of course,” he said with much reluctance. Elliott took the cup into his hands, looking at her from across the table. “What is it?”
At this, Colette smiled. “A herbal drink of sorts. You did not look stable when I first saw you, clearly. This should help your body regulate itself. If your ‘condition’ isn’t so severe, it should undo whatever it is that is wrong with you. So drink!” she chirped.

His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape, how easily she managed to pick up on his issue was beyond him. Though it was clear that by no means that he was physically healthy, Colette seemed to understand the extent to which he was sick. He picked up the cup and gulped down the repulsive drink, not holding his breath. He wondered how she would react if she knew that the Outsider sat across from her. That she was to help a being so many hated. Feared.

He pursed his lips in distaste, placing the small cup down uneasily. Elliott waited patiently for the herbal drink to work its magic, expectations unsurprisingly low.
   “Now, let's start from the beginning.” She intertwined her fingers and placed them on the table. And now, he would have to lie like there was no tomorrow.
   “Well, Ms. Vaughn. My mother and I moved to Dunwall a year ago to start fresh. Just recently she had been acting strange, showing symptoms for sickness. Now–”
   “Symptoms like?”
   “Coughing, fatigue, fainting. I started feeling the same way just recently, so I came all this way to ask for your help,” he said.
   “What does this have to do with the vials?” Colette raised a careful brow.
   “There was a local unlicensed doctor in our area. My mother had been going to him and he prescribed her the liquid. Whatever it may be. Ever since she has been taking it, I’ve noticed she has gone from steadily declining in health to rapidly.”
   “This little thing?” She sloshed the liquid in the vile from side to side. “I’ll have to take a closer look at it. I suppose I can forgive you for crashing my off day. This is quite a serious matter.” She stood from her seat.

Elliott looked up at her. “I am in your debt, Ms. Vaughn.”
At his words, she smiled and nodded. Colette was far sweeter than he anticipated, and hospitable.
   “This will take me a while, you should return to resting in the lounge.”
The idea of those ravenous plants waiting to tear him limb from limb came to him. For a moment, he considered this, deciding to push her a bit, “would it be okay if I watched you work?”
Her expression noticeably shifted at this. “Why, of course you can! No one has ever offered that.”
   “And no genius practitioner has been as patient as you.”
At this, Colette blushed. “Perhaps I am still young.”
   “This world withers,” he said grimly.

—

Colette took a long time to set up all of her equipment, reasonably. Her ‘lab’ was not nearly as tidy as the rest of the apartment. Countless testing tubes infested every surface that could fit them, some teacups were placed in one corner of the room, seemingly forgotten. An examination cot resided in the very center of the room, some mechanisms attached to its arms. The air felt sterile. Elliott sat near the door, half awake in an old chair Colette moved in just for him. She herself had no chair, preferring to work standing. It was no good sitting around all day. Her work surface was at the far end of the small room, only a clear space was in the center of the desk for her to work. The rest of it was covered with all sorts of things. One notebook, she kept in arms reach at all times.

For the first thirty minutes, Elliott did watch the practitioner do her thing with much interest. He was intrigued with how vast the disparity in her work style was compared to Charles’. A lot messier, faster, even a little rushed?
Colette was looking at a sample of the liquid in a vial through a microscope when he spoke.
   “Is anything out of the ordinary?” He stared at her back, as that was all he could see from where he sat.
   “I’ll be honest, this is frustrating me greatly. I can’t seem to figure out what this is. But worry not, I’ll keep at it.” She pulled her focus away from the microscope and looked back at him. “Whatever this is definitely is not medicine of any sorts. So maybe you should be concerned. Who was this “unlicensed doctor” who prescribed it? I am intrigued.”
He shifted uncomfortably at the question. No matter how often he felt forced to do so, lying did not come naturally. Notably, even harder did it come to lie to seemingly pure individuals. Though Elliott did not doubt Colette was clean of any wrongdoing, he assumed it paled in comparison to all the great she did provide to the world. “It is just my mother and I, we aren’t well off. I took up the offer of what help I could get, I suppose I see the idiocy of that now.”
   “Well, that’s okay. We’ll see what I can do, then hopefully you’ll get out of my hair.” She smiled with reassurance.

—

Quite some time had passed, and he was in and out of a sleepy disarray, nodding off and jolting up every few minutes. Once again, Elliott briefly thrusted up, but this time at Colette’s words.
   “By the Outsider!” she shrieked.
He rose up from his seat, eyes shooting to meet hers.
   “No, this can’t be right. Oh but it is right, so sickeningly true.”
   “What is it? What did you find?” Elliott rushed to her side.
   “This,” Colette held up the black vial in front of his eyes, half of its contents missing, “this is poison.”
He looked into her eyes with unsureness, and all he could read was a dangerous affirmation. A prompt knock broke their meeting gazes, both heads snapping towards the lounge.
Elliott put his hand on Colette’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly. “Is it killing me? All my symptoms? What is Charles putting in there? Is it too late?”
The knocking persisted.
   “Who is Charles?” She raised a brow, beginning to motion towards the lounge to answer the door. Much to her surprise, he grabbed her forearm firmly, keeping her from leaving.

   “You can’t answer that door,” he warned.
   “I understand you are worried, Elliott. But there is no reason to be harsh with me. Let me attend to whoever needs me outside, and I can help you right after. Let go.”
His whole body pulsed with great anxiety, his hearing muffled and vision dulled. “You can’t.”

The great amount of patience the young woman held originally had drained completely. She slapped him across the face, urging him to release her arm. He stared at her with wide eyes, holding his stinging cheek. For a second the ringing in his ears faltered. Colette left for the lounge, and not long after did he hear the front door opening, a conversation breaking out. He moved to the edge of the room, peeking out into the kitchen only to creep in slowly. Making his way to the door frame, Elliott just barely poked his head out, looking to see who was at the door. The sight made his grip on the frame edge tighten. Suddenly, he felt such an overbearing amount of fear wash over him. It was only a matter of time before his problems from the tower followed him right to her doorstep. The feeling felt so severe, he almost drowned the conversation between Colette and the man at the door out entirely.

—

Emily sat by her desk, face planted in both hands. She carefully questioned each maid on the possible whereabouts of Elliott, making sure not to make any worry arise amongst those in the tower. On the day of his surgery, not only did he vanish, but so did Charles. Her duties still burdened her, and things seemed to fall apart so easily when she put her attention elsewhere. The absence of the Royal Protector only made matters worse. Many nobles expected something from Emily, and she delivered with confidence regardless of the storm in her mind.

More importantly, she felt worried for Elliott. He could be dead for all she knew, despite only possibly a night passing. Emily told herself he must have gone for a stroll in the morning, that he had been sleeping peacefully in bed prior to that. Even as she clutched her heart, it seemed to guide her nowhere. For once, the void eluded her. It did not take her to him, signaling her in any way. It felt to her as though every second he remained missing, her emotions solidified. If Elliott, that piece of herself, were to ever return to her arms, which she swore to herself she would wrap around him to hold him so dear as to never let go, she would profess it all.

A knock interrupted her thoughts, urging her to position her hands in a more acceptable manner for an empress. “Yes?”
A maid entered and nodded at the empress, “I do not mean to interrupt, but there is no sign of Charles being in the tower.”
   “That’s okay. We had postponed the surgery anyway, I assume he dedicated today to gathering some materials, I only had a few things to ask him, it can wait.” It felt as though lying was the only correct thing she had been doing lately. At this, Mary nodded and closed the door behind her.

Emily rose from her desk and left the office, beginning down the halls with a sad determination. She stopped at Elliott’s door, pressing both hands against the smooth timber wood. Briefly awaiting a sense of feeling, she closed her eyes. Nothing but emptiness, cold and unkind silence. She twisted the knob and invited herself into his bedroom, closing the door so as to not be caught by any of the maids or guards.
Her interest was primarily on his desk, maybe she could find a note or perhaps a clue. It sat messily as usual, scattered papers and books covered almost every inch of the wood. At least his essence was alive in the small room. Quickly skimming the contents of scatter, nothing proved to be useful to her. Her hand moved down to grasp the small knob of the only drawer on the desk. At first, it did not budge. With more effort, she managed to pull it open.

Emily found small broken bits of charcoal resting on top of a large sheet of paper inside. She wondered why he dedicated the drawer for such a thing, as the charcoal would stain whatever it touched, nothing else could be placed into the drawer. She picked up the paper from a corner, shaking it in the air to clean it. When she flipped the sheet around, her eyes widened and she pursed her lips. It was an unfinished sketch of herself.

At first Emily was entranced by the sheer beauty of his work, then at the thought of her being his muse. She admired it for a few moments, feeling her heart ache deeply, reliving the sensation of his lips meeting hers. Emily placed the artwork back, a deep part inside of her knowing that he would surely return to complete it. So that she could pretend to see it for the first time and kiss him again, not to repeat the mistake of playing coy out of uncertainty.