ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ - H&S

Kelsier could see the fear burning fiercely behind Nico’s eyes. He honestly wasn’t sure what it was about the idea of training that scared him so much - if anything, shouldn’t he be pleased? There were bound to be opportunities here and there, to escape or to try again to kill Kelsier. And since he’d obviously never trained before, he couldn’t have had bad experiences with it. So why did he look like he was about to pass out? Kelsier frowned slightly, trying to figure out what had spooked the boy so badly if training hadn’t done it. Maybe he was just too tired to block the fear he’d already been feeling from his features, or maybe his wound was hurting, or...or or or. There were a million possibilities here, and going through them one by one was useless. Kelsier considered asking, but he knew doing so would probably only make it worse, so he held back. He didn’t want to go through this cycle anymore, of him hurting Nico and Nico trying to hurt him back, of them getting angry with each other until one of them snapped. He didn’t want to keep going through this, and he knew there was no way Nico did either. They had to find another way, somehow, to exist. To just be, without tearing each other to shreds.
He hesitated. How did he see this ending? What did he think training this boy would accomplish, what did he expect to gain? He shook his head slightly, a shadow of his exhaustion flitting across his face before he could stop it. He’d known trying to talk to Nico was going to be hard, but even he hadn’t quite anticipated how tiring it would be, how drained he would feel as plan after plan seemed to fall short of what they needed. And yet he held on an looked Nico in the eye, determined to make this plan work, if for no other reason than that he couldn’t think of another one. “I think you’ll either try to kill me again, or you won’t.” He said calmly. “If you do try, then we’ll fight one more time, and whoever survives gets to keep their life. That would solve this problem all by itself. And if you don’t...I don’t know. We’d have to see, wouldn’t we?”
He closed his eyes. Mostly. He wasn’t stupid enough to close them completely. “I don’t feel like crowing, Nico.” He said patiently, and let out a very small sigh. “This isn’t really that kind of situation, is it?”
Then he blinked and opened his eyes, frowning at Nico. What was this about Mistborn not living long after they Snapped? How long did he mean? It was true that the life expectancy of a general Mistborn was probably lower than it was for a general Nobleman, but that was because Mistborn tended to be fighters and to die young. Unless they Snapped later in life, as Kelsier had, they tended to get killed off pretty early on. Was that what Nico meant? Because it sounded like he meant Snapping itself did something to you…
No. No, he couldn’t mean that. Kelsier pushed the thought away, focusing all his attention on the younger Mistborn instead.
He had gotten this odd look in his eye now. He looked glazed, not quite there, and Kelsier frowned in sudden concern, his eyes flicking down to the wound on Nico’s stomach, as though that could somehow have caused the change. “Are you in pain right now?” He asked quietly, barely resisting the urge to get up and go over to him, because he knew it wouldn’t help but Nico was starting to scare him a little now. He looked so dead. He was on the verge of calling Sazed into the room to have a look at him when he spoke, sending a bit of relief shooting through Kelsier’s body. At least he could still do that. Still, he looked like he’d just gone into shock, which considering how terrified he’d seemed moments earlier made Kelsier wonder...had he done this intentionally? Blocking out the pain and fear, had he learned how to do that? The older Mistborn knew that Nico had gone through some horrible things in his life, but still, he hadn’t know it had been bad enough to trigger a response like this. He waited, hoping the boy would come out of it on his own, because frankly he didn’t have a clue what to do about it.
He was actually relieved when Nico snapped at him a little, because it seemed to wake him up a little. The shadow had still settled over him, but it was a little broken and Kelsier needed to stick his fingers through the crack to keep it that way. “I’m perfectly serious.” He said with his best straight face. He didn’t even know why he wat trying, but he was, he had to. For some reason he knew he had to try and get Nico out of this fog.
His smile slipped away, though. “Minos was horrible.” He said flatly. “Believe me, I knew of him. He hurt and killed Skaa the same way he breathed. Not that I expect you to care about that.”
He had to remember who he was talking to here, after all. Nico was still one of the nobility, like it or now.
Wait.
Pupils?
Kelsier caught his breath. Minos’ pupils...Nico.
Nico had been trained. Nico had been trained by Minos. Which meant….
A sudden flood of white-hot anger flooded through Kelsier, almost cutting off his ability to breath as he stood up suddenly and stared, stared, stared at Nico. “Were you trained by Minos?” He asked harshly, his eyes burning with intensity that seemed to vibrate through his entire body. Because so much rested on that question, either answer would have so many implications. If Nico had been trained, he’d clearly been trained, on purpose to flare constantly instead of burning normally. Everything he’d said, everything he knew...had been taught.
Kelsier wanted to pace.
He didn’t. He couldn’t, he had to watch Nico, wait for the answer. Was this why Nico was so terrified to train? Did this explain how hurt he seemed, how desperate? No, no that was still because of Bianca, but...if someone had fed that flame for their own personal purpose….

It felt like walking through a minefield, never being sure where it was safe to step. The haunted look in Nico’s eyes seemed to get worse, and Kelsier made the silent sound of a small explosion in his head, marking it as a place not to step later. Because there was really going to be a ‘later’ now, wasn’t there? Because Kelsier wasn’t going to kill the boy crouched like a frightened wild animal in front of him. He wasn’t going to stain his hands with the blood of the brother, like he had with the sister. What kind of man did that make him, he wondered? The kind of man who killed when it suited him and never followed through? Who left loose ends? Who didn’t finish what he started, even when the boy was practically begging him to just get it over with? He wasn’t a merciful man, he knew that. He was the hand of justice against a horrible threat, he was a monster with standards. He didn’t kill indiscriminately; nor was he overly choosy with who felt his blades. If you were Skaa, he was a hero, he was hope, he was justice.
If you were nobility…
Run.
Except Nico. Exceptions, exceptions, those were for other people, and he shook his head, trying to figure himself out. He knew himself, he knew what he stood for.
He was not mercy.
So why was Nico still breathing?
He watched the boy, and his hazel eyes seemed to soften, just a fraction. Nico wasn’t lying, that much was clear, and it was a good thing he wasn’t. Kelsier was an angry, vengeful man at times, and if Nico had lied at that moment...Kelsier didn’t know what he would have done. He might have reacted. He might have attacked, even. He didn’t think he’d go back on his word, but he also hadn’t thought he would promise a nobleman anything at all, so maybe he didn’t know himself as well as he thought he did. Maybe, after all, he wasn’t as clear a case as he seemed.
That meant he had sides, and aspects of himself he was unaware of, which actually scared him a little. He didn’t like the idea that he didn’t really know himself, and he hated the thought that maybe he was as soft and cowardly as one of the nobility, who stood by and did nothing while Skaa were hurt worse than death, he fixed Nico with a firm look, willing himself to be strong, to be steady, be be the Survivor of Hathsin, the vengeful one.
“You’re right, I don’t believe it.” He said simply, his tone not harsh but not exactly kind. “Be clear on one thing, Nico. I don’t trust you. I don’t even like you. I didn’t decide not to kill you out of pity or regret, I decided not to kill you to give you a chance to train and learn how life as a Mistborn can be. To learn your potential. And to not let things end like this.”
He was telling the truth, too. He wouldn’t lie to Nico, not now, and especially not when the boy was being completely honest with him. He didn’t break eye contact. He needed Nico to understand the way things were.
And when he was angry, he was angry like the sun was bright. Because if Nico had actually been trained, had been taught to be as he was...that meant someone had meant for this to happen. He didn’t know whether Minos - and he knew it was Minos’ hand in all this - had intended for Nico to fail or succeed, but he had made Nico into a weapon in a war he didn’t even understand, couldn’t possibly understand. He had turned Nico into something deadly and something to be held carefully, with gloves. And Kelsier wasn’t angry at Nico, not now.
Now he was angry with the nobility outside of Nico. And that felt right, felt normal, felt like Kelsier knew himself. It felt good to be angry with the people who had hurt both of them.
He looked away. He knew he was going to have to do something about all these emotions later, but for now, he had to get control of himself. He had promised not to kill Nico, and for him, that meant promising not to hurt him too, but what did it mean for Nico? Did he expect to be tortured, as Minos had undoubtedly done? Did he expect to be taught more lies, taught how to fight until he died against every enemy? Kelsier gritted his teeth against the wave of fury that almost consumed him, and when he looked back at Nico, there was still anger burning bright behind his eyes, but it was dimmed now. Like staring at a torch through the cracks of your hand over your eyes.
“Minos lied to you,” he said simply, and let out a breath, forcing his body to relax. “About what, I don’t know. But I’m not going to hurt you. Training…”
Training, for Nico, meant pain and fear and the thought that you weren’t going to survive each mock battle. That was why he’d reacted like this. And suddenly Kelsier felt it again, the harsh desire to protect him, the need to make this right, somehow. He didn’t smile, but the anger was simmering down to something more manageable, less terrifying now. He tilted his head a little bit, his eyes almost tired now. “Training is going to be very different than it was with Minos. I don’t know what he did to you, but whatever it was, however he hurt you, I won’t. If I kill you, I kill you, and if I don’t, I don’t. I don’t play with you like a toy, and I don’t hurt you unless I mean for you to die. I don’t hurt you for fun. Understand?”

Kelsier saw a boy for the first time when he looked at Nico. A child, someone to protect, not to hurt. He didn’t know how to deal with seeing that, only he didn’t think he was a lie this time, because Nico looked too exhausted to lie, and if he wasn’t then he was an incredibly good actor. And Kelsier didn’t think that was the case.
Because if he was that good of an actor, wouldn’t he have tried this earlier? Playing the weak, defenseless card would have probably been a safer bet than constantly saying things it was obvious Kelsier wouldn’t want to hear, almost as though he were trying to goad the older Mistborn into doing something reckless. Like killing him, for example.
Kelsier didn’t want to soften. He didn’t want any room for gentleness towards nobility in his heart. But Nico didn’t look like nobility, he looked like a boy, even a Skaa boy, and Kelsier had the strangest sense of protectiveness towards him. Like it wasn’t entirely his fault that everything had happened in the first place. He didn’t relish the suffering of others, not really. He killed them, and he didn’t really mind if it was painful, but he didn’t torture them. He didn’t hurt them to see them squirm, he hurt them to make them go away permanently. Maybe that was what bothered him about this.
Nico was hurting, and Kelsier had caused it, but he didn’t intend to kill the boy. Not anymore, anyway. Which left him where, exactly?
On very thin ice.
He tilted his head, and for once there was no spark of anger behind his eyes at the question. He was actually intrigued by it, because he hadn’t been expecting that from someone like Nico, and it was a decent question. “I’m not talking about the life of nobility.” He answered, spitting out the last word like it tasted rotten. “I’m talking about the life of someone who’s free. The life of someone who isn’t afraid of the mists, and has the strength to save people. Someone like me.”
He quirked a small smile. “There aren’t supposed to be because the nobility said so?” He suggested. “You really don’t know me. Do I seem to care what they think? Do I strike you as someone who lives on every word that slips from their lips? My very existence spites them!” A fact which hadn’t escaped him. A fact he found very amusing, actually.
A moment later he was serious again, though. And looking at Nico with a strange expression, like he’d thought he’d seen a dog and suddenly it was a cat instead. Because Nico sounded...like he actually cared, when he said that. And yes, it was horrible, the way you Snapped, and the way noblemen took advantage of it, but he hadn’t even expected Nico to know how it happened, much less almost seem to be apologizing for it. As though he knew his kind were to blame.
He blinked. “Why won’t there be Skaa anymore?” He questioned, genuinely puzzled at that. “Because there won’t be noblemen? Skaa don’t need the nobility to exist, you know. We can survive just fine on our own, without your ‘help’.” And he was talking as though Nico represented all of the nobility again, because on a way it was like he did. Kelsier and Nico, Skaa and nobility, having a conversation. It seemed too ridiculous to consider, and yet there they were. He looked away, wondering again what he thought he was playing at.
“This is what Mistborn life could be.” He said quietly, still turned away. “I don’t want your courts, or your drinks. I don’t want your velvet homes and your slaves. I want freedom, for myself and my people, and I’ll do whatever’s necessary to achieve that. You know I will.”
And he knew Nico was right. In the end, he was a fool if he thought they could make this work without one of them deciding to trust the other, and where would they be then? When that happened, would the other one take advantage of it? Kelsier genuinely didn’t know the answer to that question, and he was silent for a long moment, thinking about it.
“You’re right.” He said finally. “This isn’t going to work forever unless one of us decides to trust the other. But it doesn’t need to work forever. It just needs to work until we think of another solution to this little problem of ours.” That was the best answer he had, unfortunately. The fact was, he was out of options for as long as killing Nico wasn’t one of them.
Kelsier listened as Nico continued, defending Minos. Really defending him. Kelsier’s eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Nico like a hawk, dissecting his expressions, waiting for some sign of doubt. And then he saw it.
Did Nico believe what he was saying?
Yes and no, he decided. Nico wanted to believe what he was saying, maybe wanted that more than anything, but he had doubts about it. The thought smoothed over Kelsier’s thoughts like a blanket, and he found he could answer Nico calmly, not angrily this time. “You’re wrong.” He said simply. “I know you don’t believe me, but that’s not the only way to train a Mistborn. We aren’t broken people who need to be fixed, and we certainly don’t need to be tortured to learn how to use Allomancy correctly. Not that he even taught you anything correctly. Training with me will be very different from anything you’ve experienced, I promise you that. I said I don’t hurt people for the sake of hurting them, and I meant it. Understand?”
He actually hesitated before continuing.
“Minos wasn’t a good person, Nico.” His tone was actually gentle this time. “And neither am I. But I care, and he didn’t, and I think you’ll find that sets us apart by quite a lot.”
He wasn’t hurt by the next words to escape Nico’s mouth. Neither did he smile at them. He simply nodded, acknowledging them as true. “No, I’m not. I can’t afford to be kind in this world.”

Kelsier smiled, a dark expression on a hawk-like face. His eyes were bright, almost mischievous but a little bit satisfied too, as though he’d been waiting for Nico to ask that. As though he’d known Nico would scoff at the idea of being free when you were running for your life.
“Yes.” The word escaped like a hiss, not angry, not even happy. A simple, satisfied answer that he meant with all his heart. “I’d rather be a wild dog with hunters after me than a pet with a collar any day. I’m free to say what I want and do as I wish, because anyone who could stop me has already tried. I’m free to exist how I want, because they already tried to kill me and they failed. They did their worst, and I won.”
The Pits of Hathsin had been torture, there was no doubt about that. But they hadn’t broken Kelsier. They’d made him what he was, stronger than he’d been, and filled with purpose like he’d never had before. They’d taken his heart - Mare - and broken her, and he’d come out the other side ready to his back with everything he had. He wasn’t grateful for that, he was simply ready to get up and fight back, and this time….this time, he wasn’t going to lose. Not to Nico, and certainly not to the Lord Ruler.
He tilted his head like a bird, analyzing Nico’s expression. “Oh.” He said simply. And then, “you really don’t know what happens to Skaa every single day, do you?”
Because if he’d known, he wouldn’t have asked that question. That, more than anything else so far, made Kelsier believe Nico really was as clueless as he seemed to be, at least about the divide between Skaa and noblemen.
Skaa and their oppressors.
“It mixes.” He said finally, and he sounded a little tired this time. “I don’t know how well, but it does. Have you ever thought that maybe Minos was lying to you to keep you loyal to him? Because a lot of what you think is completely false.”
There was no way to say that gently, so he tried to keep his tone gentle instead, hoping to soften the words as best he could.
As Nico went on, Kelsier’s expression shifted, and for once he looked like maybe he had it in him to be kind. “You’re right.” He agreed. “Not all of it is true. In fact, I think most of it isn’t. You’ve been fed a steady diet of lies and half-truths, and it’s time for that to stop, right now. I won’t say I don’t lie, but I won’t lie about my people, not to you or anyone else. The nobility are just people with too much power and cruelty twisted together, nothing impressive about them. They aren’t special. They’re just full of themselves.”
Oh. Kelsier had to ponder that one for a moment. Would they be? He supposed that, without nobility, there wouldn’t be much of a need for the distinction, but it still felt important to him somehow. He shook his head slightly, a bemused expression resting on his features as he eyed Nico.
“I suppose.” He said after a minute, sounding doubtful. “But we could still call ourselves Skaa, if we chose to. It just wouldn’t serve as a distinction any more.”
He shook his head, a more serious light slipping into his eyes as Nico went on. He knew the younger Mistborn was right, of course. He was training an enemy how to fight him specifically, it was a fool’s decision and he knew it. But something about Nico made him want to do it anyway. Something about the boy sitting on the bed in front of him, challenging him to do what they both knew would be the easiest solution to all this, the simplest course of action that his crew was probably wanting him to take, something made him want to say no. No, he wouldn’t make that decision. He wouldn’t hurt this boy, even if he was responsible for all the pain he’d gone through. He shook his head again, and the sigh that escaped him wasn’t exasperated so much as it was…maybe tired. “I know.” He said, surprising himself. He hadn’t really meant to say that, but there it was out in the open. He didn’t know how Nico would react to it, but he was going to find out. “I know. But I’m still. Not. Killing you. Okay? I know it’s probably the simplest solution for me. I know that we’re dancing on the edge of a knife, and that this is probably a terrible idea, and I even know that you probably don’t want this, but we’re doing it anyway because it’s the best thing I can come up with. I don’t want to hurt you. And I know you probably still want me dead, but I’m arrogant enough to believe I can hold you off. And this could work. It could work, Nico. If we give it a chance.”
He wasn’t pleading. He was just trying to get Nico to believe him that this wasn’t a completely doomed attempt on his part. That things weren’t broken, not completely. That there was still hope.
Kelsier didn’t flinch. He could see the fear in Nico’s eyes more than he could see the anger, because it wasn’t anger, not really. Nico was scared, and upset, and he was trying to make himself see confident because otherwise what was he? Minos was the only one who had shown him anything like love, it seemed. If he had hurt him and lied to him...of course he didn’t want to consider that. Of course he was lashing out, trying to make Kelsier even more of the bad guy than he already was in this situation, which was not an easy feat. Kelsier fully admitted that he was to blame.
The thing was, so was Minos. And of course Nico didn’t want that to be true. Who would?
The next words almost broke Kelsier’s heart. Because Nico sounded so alone, so devastated, and all Kelsier wanted was to go back and fix things, to not have been so angry that night they both remembered so well. He looked away so Nico wouldn’t see the expression in his hazel eyes, full of regret and sympathy, and when he looked back there was no sign they had ever been there. He wasn’t cold, but there was no pity in his expression either. “I don’t know whether he cared about you or not.” He said, and it was as close to honest as he could get. “I wasn’t there. But it doesn’t matter now. I know I’m not kind, and I don’t pretend to be, but I have a different way of training. And it’s not going to hurt, not like it did with Minos. You don’t have to believe me, because you’re going to find out.”
Looking at Nico, he couldn’t see the nobility of his blood anymore.
Looking at Nico, he couldn’t see anything Skaa about his face and appearance.
He saw a child. A boy who needed someone. And Kelsier knew he could never be that person, but maybe someday, if Nico was allowed to live...maybe he’d find someone who could be a father to him.
A real father.

Kelsier raised his eyebrows at that. So he was a hypocrite now, was he? Well, he supposed that was better than a monster, unless he was simply both of course. That seemed most likely. Either way, it was getting tedious to be offended every time Nico threw a new barbed remark his way, so he let this one pass with nothing but a flash in his hazel eyes to show his displeasure.
“Why exactly am I a hypocrite?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. For Nico to spell it out, and also for Nico to push past his fear enough to be able to tell Kelsier exactly why he was wrong. Only, he didn’t think Nico was in any shape to be pushing himself, so maybe he’d said it for a different reason. Like the fact that he was genuinely a bit puzzled by being called that, of all the things Nico could have picked.
The thing was, he believed his plan could work. He believed it, or he wouldn’t have decided to try it, because despite what his crew would say he didn’t do hopeless missions, or take impossible jobs. He took extremely unlikely to succeed jobs. There was an important difference that had a lot to do with his perspective.
No, he didn’t believe this was impossible. It would be difficult undoubtedly, frustrating and tiring and it would wear them both down and get worse before it got better, but in that way it was just like most things Kelsier decided to take on, and he found himself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. What was it about lofty goals that called to him so strongly?
He was shaken from his thoughts by Nico’s next, quieter words. So he wasn’t completely clueless. Not that he’d said he was (Kelsier was keeping track of anything that could be a conscious lie) but it did mean a few things. One, that he was observant even as a child, and two, that Kelsier wasn’t starting completely from scratch here. Even if Nico only had the slightest inkling of how horrible and detestable the nobility really were, it was a start worth appreciating. Better that than trying to teach a child that the only trustworthy person they knew was a liar and worse.
“Well, suffice to say it isn’t good.” He said, testing each word carefully before he said it. He didn’t know what he was doing or how to explain to Nico what to him was a self-evident truth, because he’d never had to put it into words before. The people he communicated with regularly were very aware of what was happening to them, and even the ones who wouldn’t fight didn’t tend to argue very hard when Kelsier showed up. Okay, some of them did, but they at least were aware of the basic facts, unlike Nico. “You’ll learn more about that later.”
He listened as Nico went on, and he nodded, because he knew this part. Or he thought he did, anyway. “He promised you revenge,” he said very softly. “What else did he promise you? How many lies did he feed you? You have no reason to trust me, but I won’t do that to you. My word is worthless to you, but you have it anyway.”
What he heard was someone who knew how to lie.
What he didn’t know was what Nico did with that knowledge. He would be a fool not to entertain the thought that Nico was lying as they spoke, lying about every single thing that he’d said so far, but he also didn’t think that was necessarily true. Nico had said he didn’t lie when he could help it, and Kelsier found himself wanting to believe that, in spite of everything to the contrary, everything that made it seem like it wasn’t true. He didn’t believe it yet...but he was willing to give it a chance to prove itself.
He actually chuckled a little at the next words. “Oh, I am.” He agreed. “But I have reason to be. Survivor of Hathsin and all that. Besides, what I have isn’t the same as what the nobility are by a long shot. They’re stuck up. I just decide to believe things can work even when it doesn’t look like they will. There’s a difference between the two, believe it or not.”
He didn’t hesitate. “The Skaa are better.” He said immediately, as though that was as obvious as the mists. Of course they were better, they were the ones being hurt, right? They were the ones who needed saving they were the good guys and the nobility were the bad guys, except maybe Nico, apparently….he still didn’t know what to make of that. Nico being as young as he was helped, though. “Not everyone is cruel.”
The idea that the Skaa could be just as bad...that actually stung. Because once the nobility were eradicated everything would be fine, right? The Skaa were the victims, they wouldn’t act as like noblemen even if they were given the chance. There was no way he could believe that.
It did shake him a little, though. Hearing Nico say that Kelsier’s people were no better, not really. He didn’t even know why he was listening to a word that came out of Nico’s mouth, but he was.
He sighed, relaxing as the subject passed. It was easier to talk about the problem at hand, he realized, than to try and go into everything that was wrong with the world. Which was everything, at the moment. But the problem was, Nico didn’t seem to hope for something better.
Only how was he to answer that? There was the truth, of course: he was doing this because he thought Nico could be better. He thought there was a chance it would work. He wanted to prove he was right. He hesitated, then looked Nico in the eye as he answered. “Because I think you don’t have to be this way. You don’t have to grow up cruel and alone, and even if you hate me at least you’ll be safe.” He said, and he meant every word. He wouldn’t lie, especially not now at such a crucial moment. When he knew Nico was deciding how far to give him, how much to trust.
“They already have, by letting me talk to you.” He pointed out. “And they trust me. They trust my judgment, and they might not like it but they won’t stop me, not because they can’t but because they’ll decide not to. Because they’re my crew, and we trust each other.”
He tilted his head slightly, and a smile played at the edges of his mouth. “We’ll start in a couple days.” He decided. “No point in doing anything when you’re as like as not to bleed out. I can’t give you any more pewter, but you should be up to some light training by then just by healing naturally. And if not, we can wait.
He raised an eyebrow. “I think you should rest”.” He suggested, moved to get up, his smile back on his face. “Me or one of the others will check on you later. Can you read? Two days of nothing to do is going to be a little tedious.”

Kelsier listened, his eyebrows coming together the more he heard. So that was what Nico had meant. It wasn’t that he was actually lying, so much as it was that Nico still didn’t believe that he could ever really be free. It made Kelsier angry and sad for him, as well as making him want to fix this situation even more than he had before, if only to prove Nico wrong. He would do it, he would succeed at this, and eventually, Nico really would be free. And he would be as safe as anyone ever was, and maybe, maybe someday they would even trust each other, maybe that wasn’t too much to ask for. Kelsier didn’t know what was going to happen. He didn’t know whether Nico would ever trust him, or whether he’d ever trust Nico, or even whether they’d make it a day without Nico trying to kill him again, but he did know he had to try. For Nico’s sake, for his own sake, even just for the sake of his word. Because he meant what he said and that should have been the end of it, and it wasn’t.
He was silent for a moment, perhaps for too long. He was seriously considering whether Nico was right, whether this was all an exercise in cruelty and all he was doing was making it worse. But really, he didn’t think so. Maybe he was just full of himself, but this was the best he could do with a bad situation and he didn’t want to make it worse, he really didn’t. So here they were, feeling out how far was too far, how badly they were allowed to mess up and how close they could get to success before it all crashed down around them.
“You’re wrong.” He said simply. He didn’t want to play any word games, not with Nico, so he simply said what he meant. “About me. You think I’ll never trust you, thst I’ll always keep you on a tight leash and look over my shoulder when you aren’t locked up, but neither of us really know that until we try. And we’re going to try. And if you trust me one day, then I’ll trust you back, and if there are voices in and out of my head telling me not to, then I’ll fight them. I don’t know whether I’ll ever trust you, but I don’t know whether I’ll live that long either, and I still make plans with that assumption I’m mind. Because life isn’t planning for everything, it’s just planning and winging it when those plans fail.”
His eyes hardened slightly. He wasn’t mad, he was just intense, and focused completely on the boy sitting in front of him, the boy with a wound in the shape of his knife. “We’ll see.” He promised. “We’ll see who’s right. But I warn you, I don’t lose.”
His gaze softened again, and he glanced reflexively down at the wound, not for the first time wishing he’d put the knife down faster. He didn’t like to think of what would have happened if he hadn’t lowered it right then, if Nico’s wild attempt to spite him had worked...it would have ended right there. Which, to his surprise, he found he didn’t want. He didn’t want it to end yet, he didn’t want this to be over, he wanted to have a chance to make it right first. Maybe he would get that chance, and maybe he wouldn’t.
It didn’t hurt that Nico wouldn’t believe a word he said. It was actually a good thing, because it meant he was going to start off not trusting him and work up from there, which was that opposite of what he’d done with Minos. That was good. Kelsier wanted to be as far from that as he could possibly get. It also didn’t hurt that Nico didn’t seem particularly angry at the moment, not like he’d been before anyway, which could have just been the exhaustion kicking in, but...maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was more than that, something nowhere near trust but moving away from complete hatred. He just didn’t want to go through this loop again, that was really all.
He was already thinking about their training. Where to start...that was easy enough, starting at the basics would be the best thing. Nico didn’t know how to burn correctly, or rather, burn without flaring (he didn’t want to say it was incorrect so much as it was...well...not fun) and without that basic knowledge, their progress would be very limited. After that, they’d just have to see where the wind took them. Trust might never come, and if it did it would promise pain and more problems than they could imagine along with it, but Kelsier found that was better than calling this an unfixable situation and throwing it away. Throwing Nico away, like a burden he’d never asked for, the way he knew his crew wanted him to. No, however painful, he was going to see this through to the end, and whether or not they made progress was up to Nico. The boy could easily choose not to allow himself to be taught a single thing, he could shut down, he could try to kill Kelsier again...there were any number of things he could do if he decided to. But Kelsier found, to his own surprise, that that wasn’t what he wanted.
“Smart.” He remarked, and there was an edge of sarcasm to it. Of course Minos hadn’t promised much. It wasn’t like he’d been bursting with gifts for the world, or like he’d even kept the few promises he had made. If trust was a two way street, that man had been a dark alley. With rats. Lots of rats and trash.
He may not have known all the details, but he could guess at a lot of them. And he knew the secrets weren’t good.
He caught Nico looking at the fruit, but he didn’t call attention to it, not wanting to scare him off from eating what was available to him. He would have to eat eventually, after all, even if he didn’t trust them, even if he thought they were going to sneak behind their words and stab him in the back, maybe with the fruit. It would be best if he ate before training, of course, and he desperately needed food even without the physician exertion...maybe Kelsier would bring him some better quality food later. Maybe once he’d had some time and privacy, he’d even eat it.
That train of thought ended when Nico met his eyes, and Kelsier looked right back. Unafraid. Careful, not cautious. In control, not in control. In control of himself, not the situation. And definitely not of Nico.
He hadn’t expected that to help anything, so he wasn’t disappointed. Instead he let it go like mist trailing from his fingers.
“Not everyone means to be cruel.” He agreed, letting the correction stand on its own for a moment. “And I think some people succeed. Not me,” he added a little too quickly in case that was what Nico assumed he meant. “And maybe not always. Maybe everyone is cruel sometimes. But I think that some people try not to be cruel, and they succeed, and it isn’t because they’re better, it’s just because their situation was different. I’m cruel, but I don’t know of any time when my wife was, for example.”
Mare, why did he mention Mare? He wasn’t ready to talk about her with Nico, not now if he ever would be. He hoped that would pass by unnoticed, as the slip up it was….or if not, he wouldn’t lie. He might not talk about it, but Lord Ruler he wouldn’t lie to this kid.
He blinked, and his eyebrows went up in shock as Nico called him “sir”. Obviously, it wasn’t meant for his ears, but still, the shock of hearing it said was….odd. A fresh wave of loathing for Minos rolled inside of him - like he needed that - and he had to bite back a curse that threatened to break free.
“You can speak your mind.” He said simply, and left it at that. Could, didn’t have to. If he did, it was his decision, no one else’s. Not that it was likely he’d see it that way, but they had to start somewhere, didn’t they? And here Nico was, apologizing reflexively like he knew he was going to get hurt if he didn’t.
If Kelsler hadn’t been invested before, he was now.
He listened as Nico spoke. “Chalk works.” He confirmed, standing up slowly. “And paper. I don’t see why you couldn’t use those if you wanted. I’ll send someone in with them in a while, but I think you should try and get some rest, if you can. Without pewter, your body needs more sleep to heal naturally.” Like Nico didn’t know that already...he almost winced. “Anything else?”

Kelsier wanted this to work, he discovered. He was used to being the one people stared at and tried to decode, he was used to being the one who.p had to be careful about what his facial features said without his permission. And yet somehow he didn’t want to school his expressions here. Maybe he didn’t want to look fake, or somehow seem like he was just playing with Nico’s head, because he wasn’t, he really wasn’t. This was Kelsier as he really was. He was being genuine, trying not to make any expressions at all on purpose, trying to stay as true to who he was as possible, in case that helped.
It probably wouldn’t. But it couldn’t hurt to try, right?
Why Bianca, that night? Why that house? Why couldn’t he have blown off steam some other way, instead of going straight for the House he thought would feel it the most? Because he didn’t do anything halfway, that was why. He couldn’t go for a secondary house when the most vulnerable (he thought) was right there. He couldn’t fight a weak house, he had to aim for the strongest one. That was why he’d ended up there, with a knife in a small girl’s chest. That was why he’d seen Nico for the first time, horror dawning on his young face as he realized what had happened. As he moved forward, trying to catch his sister. As his own personal world ended. But no….it didn’t end, not really. He realized now that it had been wrong about that. Nico’s life had changed, though not for the better, and he had found a new purpose: revenge in the man who had become his enemy in a single moment. A moment Kelsier could never take back even if he wanted to, and did he? What if he’d been right the first time, and Hades had been weakened more than he let on? Given the chance, would Kelsier take it back or accept the way things went?
No.
No, he would take it back if he could. Seeing the consequences of his actions hadn’t changed his mind on much, but he no longer felt that he had made the right decision that night. And he no longer thought he couldn’t make a mistake that came back to bite him, because here they were, mistake staring him in the face with daggers for eyes. Nico himself wasn’t a mistake of course, but he’d been shaped into a weapon by one, and it showed even in how he sat on the bed, and in how he eyed the fruit without eating, and of course how he spoke to Kelsier like a boy facing down a wild animal that could attack at any moment. The older Mistborn was dangerous, he knew that, but to have a child be so afraid of him...he wasn’t used to that, he had to admit. He was used to only being feared by the strong, not the weak.
He decided he liked it that way.
He saw the expression on Nico’s face shift, and he watched the confusion slip it’s way across the boy’s forehead, the older Mistborn’s own head tilted slightly. He had no idea what Nico was thinking. It looked like he’d been slapped. He watched, focused on gleaning all he could from that subtle shift, but there was little to tell him what Nico was thinking.
If he’d known, maybe he would have told Nico that Minos lied because he didn’t care, because he didn’t love Nico. Maybe he wouldn’t have said that at all. Maybe he wouldn’t have thought Nico was ready to hear it...but either way, he would have thought it. That Minos was horrible, there was no question. That he never loved Nico, there was no doubt in Kelsier’s mind. But Nico himself still seemed to think of Minos as a man who had done his best, tried to be good in a hard world. If Nico thought so highly of a man like that, of course he would assume Kelsier was the same. Not because he thought highly of Kelsier, of course, but because there was no room in Nico’s mind for a kind person, or gentleness of any sort. There was no room for who Kelsier tried to be.
There was only room for the monster he looked like. Which was why Nico wasn’t going to trust him, and why he didn’t deserve trust, not yet. He didn’t even know for sure that Nico wouldn’t stab him in the back at the nearest opportunity, how could there be trust? Yet Kelsier meant what he said, and he’d said they would try, so try they would, no matter how pointless it seemed. And if Nico decided he’d had enough and tried to kill the older Mistborn again?
Then they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. Personally, Kelsier found himself hoping they never would.
Kelsier wasn’t being completely true to himself there. If he’d never lost, if that were true, then wouldn’t Mare be alive? No, he had lost, and he had lost again, and he had gotten up every time. That was what he meant. Every time he was defeated it was the battle, not the war, and he always came back stronger. That was what it meant to never truly lose. He’d lost when Mare died; and he’d come back a Mistborn. He’d lost when he failed to bring down a house; he’d come back and eradicate both it and its neighbor. And looking at Nico now...he thought he’d lost again when Bianca died. When he’d killed her.
So he’d just have to learn from that mistake and do better.
Not like Minos. He wouldn’t be like Minos. He had to be better than that. Looking at Nico, he thought that man may have been the worst out of the lot of the nobility, perhaps the one he should have been aiming to kill all along. Rage boiled up inside of him, white-hot, but he controlled himself, fighting not to look threatening if he could help it.
He thought he did a fairly good job, though his eyes flashed and his lip curled a little whenever he heard the man’s name.
That got a reaction. Kelsier wished he hadn’t mentioned Mare, but he could only move forward. Nico’s expression almost made it worth it though, did he think Skaa couldn’t have wives and children? That more than anything spoke to how sheltered he’d been growing up, because not only could they have them, those husbands and wives and children could be used and hurt just like anyone else. Age was no factor when it came to cruelty; if anything, it simply made you an easier target to be small and defenseless. He wanted to fight so badly, but there was no enemies here anymore, only a boy on the edge of being an enemy and threatening to fall either direction. A child he didn’t know what to make of.
Who seemed to feel for him, when he realized said wife was gone. Kelsier hadn’t said she’d died, but apparently the past tense was enough. He didn’t want pity and Nico wasn’t offering it, but they seemed to understand each other in that moment. Two people who had felt loss, only one was to blame for the other’s. How cruel must Kelsier have been, to have experienced that pain and still inflict it on someone else? On a child? How horrible was it that even now he wondered whether it had been the right decision? He looked away, unable to meet Nico’s eyes for a moment, as the worst thought of all came unbidden into his head: was he any better than those whose lives he stole?
“You just did, though.” Kelsier couldn’t help but point out lightly, mind still on Mare and the horror of his realization. “Speak your mind. Not a bad thing, just thought I’d point it out.” He hoped he hadn’t just scared Nico off, but even if he had, it wasn’t like they’d made much progress anyway. Nico probably still wanted him dead, and Kelsier had promised not to kill him but in self-defense, anything could happen. He could use his powers a little too forcefully. Nico was weak, breakable, and Kelsier had been training for so long he no longer remembered that not everyone was as he was. Not Mistborn, sure, but some people didn’t live their lives dancing on the edge of a cliff and daring gravity to take them. Some people valued the illusion of safety, while Kelsier mocked it with his recklessness. Some people, like Dockson, probably thought him a fool for it.
Better a fool than a coward.
He nodded, dipping his head respectfully, and headed for the door. He even turned his back on Nico, though he did it intentionally, and he listened for any sound of the boy getting up. Not like Nico was in any position to hurt him, though.
He’d bring the art supplies as soon as he caught the crew up. They deserved to be kept informed, even if he was extremely bad at doing just that.

After Kelsier left Nico’s room, there was the crew to talk to. He wasn’t looking forward to that...at all….but it had to be done, so he tried to be as short and to the point as he could be about the situation.
He thought Breeze and Clubs were the most appalled. Ham took it well, and even seemed a little pleased, but Breeze and Clubs both stared at him like he’d lost his mind.
“Have you lost your mind?” Breeze had inquired politely, though Kelsier could tell he was feeling anything but. “Nico? The boy who tried to kill you, several times? that Nico, correct? You’re going to...I’m sorry….train, him?”
“Yes.”
They stared at each other, and as usual, Breeze blinked first. He looked properly mad about it though.
It had taken a while to answer all their questions. Ham had wanted to know about living arrangements, where Nico would eat and sleep and such. Kelsier suspected Irish was more out of concern for Nico than it was for them, but he kept that to himself for the moment and answered as patiently as he could. Dockson wanted to talk to him privately, and when Kelsier refused, he had simply said that he thought this was a bad idea and if anything happened it was on Kelsier’s hands. That hadn’t felt good, but there wasn’t much he could do but nod and accept that. Breeze had refused to say another word, but had continued to mutter to himself about fools and death. Kelsier chose to take that to mean the Soother was getting too pessimistic for his own good. The rest of them had asked various questions he found actually helpful, and overall he was happy with the way things had gone, considering the circumstances.
Now, he was out, gliding through silent mists like a silver bird, his mistcloak fluttering around him. He knew exactly where he was going, but he took a roundabout way and even doubled back a few times in case someone was tailing him.
Marsh.
His ever annoyingly present big brother.
Kelsier dropped in front of the hut, landing lightly but not quite soundlessly outside the door. He hesitated for a moment, imagining the greeting he was likely to get...and opened the door.

There was Kelsier, standing in the door like a hero coming to rescue some poor soul from wrongdoing. But as the light passed and he stepped inside, he looked more like a little brother, coming to visit because his mother said he had to more than because he wanted to. His face was touched by a genuine smile, though, and his eyes found Marsh instantly, resting on the older man’s usual disappointed expression with no sign that he found it discouraging.
“Evening, Marsh.” He returned cheerfully, shutting the door behind him out of habit. His brother seemed tense at the moment, possibly because Kelsier hadn’t been causing mayhem as usual and not even Dockson had come by, which meant he’d either been tied up (literally and figuratively) or he’d been majorly distracted by something, which was a bad sign in itself.
“What if I've just been keeping a low profile?” He asked innocently, as though he thought Marsh was the one messing around for not having considered that option. Kelsier dropped the act a moment later, though, and he sat down across from his brother, an unusually serious look on his hawkish features.
“Unusual.” He repeated the word, tasting it like something unfamiliar, neither good nor bad. “Yes, I suppose it is. Relax, I haven’t been doing anything too convoluted, I’ve just been a bit...busy.”
Now that he was actually here, telling Marsh what was going on was harder than he’d expected it to be. He licked his lips and looked away, his mind racing to figure out how on earth to begin.
“I think I messed up, Marsh.” He admitted softly, finally. Unlike him was an understatement. “I killed a noble girl. Years ago, now. I broke into her home and killed her in front of her little brother, because I thought it would weaken -“
He stopped, almost choking on the lie. “...because I was angry.” He finished in a small voice, still not looking at Marsh. Disappointment, he could take. He knew Marsh didn’t think much of him, and he knew why. But he didn’t want to see horror, or fear, or righteous anger. He didn’t want to see Marsh realizing what Kelsier had done, maybe even guessing at why he was here now. Instead, Kelsier stared at the floor and didn’t speak for a moment.
“I’m not expecting you to bail me out.” He added, for good measure. “I’m handling it. The brother - Nico - he came after me and tried to kill me. Then, again, after he had been trained, if you can even really call it that. He’s with us now, and I’m going to train him, Marsh. I’m going to teach him how to be a Mistborn.”
The story hadn’t quite come out right, he knew that, but at least the impossible bits had made it into the open air, and Kelsier sat stiffly, waiting for Marsh to say something. Anything.

Kelsier’s eyes never left his brother, even though his smile stayed and his posture was relaxed. Even though he had to look the part of the cheerful, unconcerned little brother, the tightened muscles in his jaw and the way he sat so he could watch the door betrayed him. He wasn’t relaxed, and he wasn’t okay, and something was very, very wrong.
But he didn’t say that. He couldn’t say that when it went directly against the image of himself he valued so much. Marsh could probably tell anyway, he supposed, so there was no use in making it any more obvious than it already was by default. He wished Mare was there, suddenly, like old times. Like when it had been the three of them, and Marsh had snorted at Kelsier’s wild imagination and Mare had loved him for it. Things had been so much simpler before, and now, where was he? He was in a dark room with his brother, trying to explain himself once again for things he couldn’t begin to put into words. He would keep trying, though. He would keep facing Marsh and answering his questions, and he would do it with his relentless cheer in hand.
“No, I suppose not.” He agreed flippantly, as though he didn’t have a care in the world. As though it didn’t matter, not really.
He was such a liar sometimes.
He almost regretted the apology. It was too out of character for him, and he could see it in Marsh’s hard eyes. He bit his lip to stop any more words from escaping, and instead focused on the older man, his lips twisting into a smile. It looked wrong somehow, like looking at something through a dusty pane of glass, and his face seemed to reject the expression as best he could. His eyes weren’t smiling, only his mouth made the attempt.
If only Marsh knew everything. Kelsier could see the horror in his carefully schooled eyes, in the way he stared at his little brother like he didn’t know him at all anymore. Kelsier almost flinched away from the look, but he stopped himself and met the stare with his own, eyes not cold but hot, determined. He had screwed up badly this time, or he wouldn’t be here now, asking for...for what, exactly? What did he think Marsh could offer him? Not comfort, surely. He didn’t want pity and Marsh wasn’t offering it, and he didn’t want help training Nico either because that was a job only he could do. He didn’t know why he was there, and he was beginning to really regret coming at all, because the expression on the other man’s face made him feel like….
Feel like exactly how he deserved to feel.
He swallowed it back, because there wasn’t time for that emotion right then. He didn’t regret the other lives he’d taken, and this wouldn’t stop him from continuing, but damn if it didn’t hurt to know you’d had a choice and picked dead wrong.
He didn’t answer. There was no need. They both knew the truth now, and Kelsier didn’t quite trust his voice to speak just then, not with memories of Mare threatening to swallow him whole. Not with memories like Mare wanting kids….wanting Kelsier to be a father, even though he knew he never would be, not really. He could never be around such fragile lives safely, because he was dangerous and not to be trusted and he knew it. He was a killer, a hero, a monster. A monster with standards, he had told Nico but apparently his standards hadn’t been good enough.
His eyes followed Marsh as the other man stood, and he almost stood up as well, but he didn’t. He just stared, waiting for whatever was going to happen next.
“You can’t stop me. You know that.” He answered quietly. He hadn’t come here to be lectured, he hadn’t come to be persuaded he was wrong, he hadn’t come to listen to Marsh rant about how irresponsible and awful he was. He eyed his brother, then - right on time - he grinned, and it looked closer to his old expression, the one that could charm children and frighten armed guards into submission.
He still looked tired.
He also looked ready to fight whatever came at him next.
“Well, here I am.” He said, spreading his arms in a gesture like surrender. “I’m handling it. I’m going to teach him. I just thought you should know.”

If Marsh had never seen Kelsier as a monster, he was likely in the minority. Kelsier killed almost daily and without regret or hesitation, he even maybe enjoyed it when the nobility fought back, forcing him to become more violent and uncontrollable as the mists. The Skaa saw him as...well, not as feral as the nobility, surely, but they weren’t following him as their hope by any means. He meant trouble, and though he saved them, he also wrenched them from their lives and forced them to think in a different, perhaps frightening way. So of course they didn’t exactly tend to welcome him, at least not until it was their children being carried away.
He didn’t blame them, but he knew they needed him all the same. There was simply no one else who could do what he could. No one else who had survived and escaped the Pits. And certainly no one else who was still smiling.
Not yet. He was going to make a world where people could smile without fear, in the end. He was going to make a world where his people were safe and unafraid, even if that world took everything he had. He was willing to give himself up for that dream.
For Mare’s dream.
Even if you had to do it again?
He flinched internally. The question was sharp and it cut him, and he looked down, suddenly unable to meet his brother’s penetrating stare. Marsh knew him far too well, and could probably read the pain in his eyes, the real regret for what he’d done. What he could never take back.
Was this what was necessary to create a new world? Was this really what had to be done? He knew he was selfish, he knew he operated out of self-interest and ego, but...he didn’t want to do that again. He never wanted to feel another child’s heart stop beating because of him. He hadn’t known what he was capable of, and what was even worse was that it didn’t scare him like it should have. He wasn’t afraid of himself. He knew that lives had to be taken to create something new, but lives that were causing the problem, not…
Not children.
“I have a plan.” He answered, tone airy and unconcerned, like of course he had a plan, how could Marsh even ask such a question? And he did, sort of. He planned to train Nico. Didn’t that count? “And it’s going to work. I’m going to fix this.”
He was going to try.
“My plan is to train him.” He added, a little more defensively now that he was actually getting into details. “And I’ll just wing the rest. I’m amazing at that.” They both knew that much was true.
Paternal was one thing that had never fit Kelsier. He was wicked and heroic, he was a walking study in black and white, but he was not a father and he didn’t expect to be. Children were to be saved and returned to their rightful caretakers, not adopted. He was many things; parent material was not one of them. And yet here he was, offering to stand in for Nico, taking a child under his wing and vowing to defend and to teach him. Wasn’t that what a parent was supposed to do? What was he expecting to accomplish here if not to act as Nico’s father should act?
No, that wasn’t right. He wasn’t trying to be a father, he was trying to be a teacher, a tutor. Nico may not have wanted to be taught, but he needed it and he knew he could do that much. He owed the boy that much.
He almost didn’t answer the next question. He considered refusing it, or acting like he hadn’t heard, but both options seemed childish even to him. After a moment he looked up, meeting Marsh’s eyes with his own hazel stare, and spoke in a blunt, factual tone. “Minos.”
Would Marsh think he had been the one behind Minos’ death? Probably. It seemed too convenient that the lord had died so recently, and Kelsier was obviously completely capable of doing such a thing, so it seemed like the natural conclusion to draw.
He had to admit Marsh was right. It would have been easier to send Dockson, but Dockson couldn’t do what Kelsler could. Which was what? He almost winded as Marsh asked the same question he’d just been asking himself, and he considered saying ‘nothing’ and leaving right then and there, but he didn’t. Because Marsh was, for once, absolutely right,
Kelsier wanted something from his older brother. He hesitated, then pressed forward, this time refusing to look away from Marsh’s stern gaze for even a second.
“I don’t know how to take care of a child.” He admitted finally. It felt a lot like he was pulling his own teeth out. “I thought maybe you would have some tips.”
There it was, out in the open. He wouldn’t take it back, either. Marsh didn’t have to do anything, but maybe - just maybe - he would have some ideas.

Once, Kelsier would have agreed completely that monsters were relative to the people viewing them. Once, he would have said the idea that he was a monster was ridiculous at best. He had stolen things for a living, yes, and it was his own arrogance that had ended with him caught, but he had done it with a smile in the face of oppression, hadn’t he? And he had never stolen from anyone who actually needed it. The nobility deserved what they got, and the Skaa deserved so much better. The fact that he was a good guy had never been disputed in his mind before.
Now? Now he had to wonder. Now he had to remember what he did that night, and think about how it felt to take a life so young. Now, when he thought about it, was he really a hero at all? A good person? Or was he a man obsessed with revenge, a man willing to do anything to get it? Because that hadn’t been something he thought he was capable of, before, and knowing that he was….didn’t feel right to him. It didn’t taste right,
“No.” He answered calmly, letting none of his doubts leave his mind, not even through his eyes. “I haven’t.” It wasn’t like it would help if he had. This was a completely different situation than anything he had faced before, and nothing like training anyone else he might have encountered. He considered pointing that out to his brother, but he didn’t, mostly because he had to admit the older man had a bit of a point about that last part. He needed to be retrained as much as Nico did, he supposed.
“I didn’t kill him.” He added, not defensively but more like he simply didn’t want any more blame on his shoulders at the moment. “Nico did. I don’t know all the details, but there were worse things he could have done in the situation he was in. He was desperate, Marsh, as desperate as - “
As I was.
Again with the comparison. He wasn’t Nico, and Nico wasn’t him, so why did he keep comparing the two of them, as though they had something in common? Maybe...maybe they did. Maybe Nico reminded him of himself a little too much. And maybe, maybe that made him want to think Nico could learn and grow into someone else.
Why?
Did he really think there would be hope for him too, if Nico could change?
Do I want to change?
He looked at Marsh, at the look on his brother’s face that so plainly stated how he felt about all this. He fully expected Marsh to tell him not to do this, and list all the reasons why he shouldn’t. Kelsier, for his part, was well aware that he wasn’t really thinking rationally at the moment, but that was probably part of the reason he had come to Marsh in the first place. He knew his brother well, and if there was one thing Marsh was good at, it was seeing the holes in the younger man’s plans.
He grinned. He couldn’t help it, the look on Marsh’s face was priceless. Of course he was in the right to be shocked, because Kelsier asking for advice on and of itself was something of a once-in-a-lifetime event. Kelsier asking his brother for childcare advice was…
Well. Unheard of was an understatement.
“I don’t think either of them are exactly happy with me at the moment.” He admitted finally, sounding a bit like a puppy who’d been kicked. “The di Angelo boy has caused a bit of, er…disagreement as to what should be done. Clubs and Breeze think he’s lying and shouldn’t be allowed to stay, Ham thinks I shouldn’t have caused this situation in the first place...actually, no, everyone thinks that. But Ham thinks the only thing to do now is to treat him like a child and care for him. Dockson says this is my responsibility, but his advice is to take it slow and see what happens. None of them think I should train him.”
He didn’t add that he was going to do it anyway, but it hung unspoken in the air between them.
“I know.” He went on, and his face took on a more serious light. It was odd, seeing Kelsier looking sincere and completely serious about something, but that’s how he looked now, as though nothing in the world had ever mattered as much as this did. At least, not for a while now.
The last time he’d looked that was, Mare had died the day before.
“He’ll be staying with us, under guard.” He answered without much emotion. “There’s nowhere else he can go, Marsh. He has people, Inquisitors, after him. If I’m going to do this, I’m not going to do it halfway. I’m not going to lie and pretend to train him while leaving him to die.”
If that was what Marsh expected from his little brother maybe he didn’t know him that well after all. Kelsier was many things, a thief and a liar, but he was not a hypocrite, and he was not one to go back once he’d decided to do something.
Then he really did grin, because Marsh was going above and beyond, as usual. He could have yelled at his little brother and thrown him out of the house, and Kelsier would have gone, even if he could now probably beat Marsh in a fight. He would have gone back and figured something out, but here a Marsh was offering to help instead. Though the Mistborn wasn’t exactly fond of needing help, he had to admit that this time, it was welcome.
“Of course, dear Brother.” He said lightly, not letting his gratitude show. It wouldn’t do to seem too unlike himself, after all. He had a reputation to uphold here, didn’t he?
“He’s resting now. I came to you after I spoke with him, he ought to be sleeping. I wanted to give him more pewter for the wound, but since he’s no longer in immediate danger I thought better of it.”
Wait.
He hadn’t actually told his brother about the whole stabbing incident, had he?
“One thing you should know.” He began. “He sort of accidentally got stabbed. It’s a long story but the main thing is, I didn’t mean to this time.”

Kelsier really had no idea whether Marsh was going to help or not. He really didn’t know. Which made this whole operation so much harder than when he did know.
What he did know was that his brother was, in some ways, very like himself. Even though neither of them would ever admit it out loud, they were similar, like how neither of them would ever give up a fight.
Except Marsh had given up already. He was back to being a good Skaa, an obedient member of society, which had both shocked and appalled Kelsier when he found out. How could he leave? How could he abandon the cause, especially when Kelsier was just joining for real? How could he really know what was happening, and still leave it all behind?
And who was Kelsier to talk? He had barely taken anything seriously at all until Mare had been taken from him, a trait that had frustrated his older brother to no end. He supposed it was ironic, almost funny, that the tables had now turned and it was a Kelsier that was taking this war more seriously, and Marsh who sat on the sidelines.
He thought it would be a lot more funny if Mare were there to laugh with him.
He was right about one thing though. Kelsier was unlikely to volunteer that particular information without it being tugged out of him like pulling a tooth.
“Of course I’ve considered it.” He answered, drawing himself up, his eyes flashing. He wasn’t completely stupid, he had thought about this for more than a couple of seconds. Didn’t Marsh know how much he’d poured himself into this already? Didn’t he understand that for Kelsier to do this, he had to hack into his own brain and rewire every assumption he’d ever made about Nico? Didn’t he have even the slightest clue about how hard it was to do all those things in such a short amount of time?
No. No, he didn’t. Marsh May have known his little brother well, but he didn’t understand quite how Kelsier’s mind worked, quite how he worked. Which was hardly surprising. Kelsier doubted anyone in the world understood how his mind worked. Including himself.
He couldn’t help feeling a bit indignant at the next words. “I listen to them.” He said lightly, showing nothing that might make Marsh think he was getting to him. “I just can’t listen to all of them. And they don’t agree. Besides, as the leader, isn’t my job to make the final decision?” It was true, but it wasn’t relevant and he knew it. He was stalling, trying to think of a good answer. He didn’t quite agree with how his crew was trying to see Nico, because in his mind Nico didn’t fit neatly into one category. He was far from bad, but was he good? As Marsh had so helpfully pointed out, there were things he might have done, bad things, and they wouldn’t know. How could they, when the boy in question would barely admit to his name?
He smiled. All or nothing, that was the only way he seemed to function. Marsh was right about that, because halfway was even worse than never trying at all I’m his opinion, and he wouldn’t be caught dead leaving something incomplete, not even this. Maybe that was part of why this bothered him so much. It was hanging freely in the air, not pinned down to any solution yet, and it bugged him, it really did. He hated it. He hated the fact that it might feel like that forever, a piece that had never belonged.
A piece he had been the one to create in the first place. It stung, but he didn’t let it show. He would just have to fix this, that was all there was left. He would train Nico, he would succeed, and somehow, he would make this right.
He needed to make this right.
Then Marsh started talking again and Kelsier almost moved backwards, wincing internally at the tone his brother had taken on. It was fair and he knew it, but that was far from meaning it didn’t sting a little. Explaining what had happened to someone who hadn’t been there sounded like a bit of a tall order, honestly. It was more than complicated. How did he even begin to put this into words?
“I got my knife out, but I wasn’t going to actually use it.” He attempted, but it sounded weak to his own ears. How had Nico gotten stabbed if he hadn’t intended to use it?
He was suddenly very tired of this conversation.
“That’s not the point. The point is, he’s been stabbed, so keep that in mind when you meet him. Don’t get him too excited.”
Was he really giving tips on how to keep Nico safe now? Because that was a new one. Kelsier touched his head lightly where he had the beginnings of a headache, then dropped his hand and faced his older brother, his eyes still somehow bright, despite everything. It was true that Nico would be dead if he hadn’t been a boy. It was even more true that they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place, because if Nico were not a child, then he probably wouldn’t have bothered avenging his sister in the first place. And they could go even further back, because were Nico not a child, he would have died with his sister on the night neither of them were ever going to forget.
He was surprised at the next words, and his eyebrows raised slightly, giving him a younger look. It wasn’t like Marsh to ever admit Kelsier had done something right. He must have been even more off-balance by this than he looked. The Mistborn shifted his weight, more unnerved but the compliment than he was flattered, but he did his best to look as arrogant and in control as ever. No use ruining whatever reputation he had left with his brother.
And then it was gone.
Kelsier looked away, hating the way his eyes expressed every bit of surprise and even fear he felt at the question. Marsh was dead right about one thing: Kelsier didn’t want to answer, and for a long, mutinous minute, he thought maybe he would silently turn and leave, letting Marsh decide whether to help or not on his own.
But he couldn’t. Nico’s agonized expression rose in his mind like a leaf through water, and he forced himself to look back and hold Marsh’s stare with his own stubbornly determined one. He would not break.
Not even now.
Not ever.
“He asked me to spare someone. A Skaa in his father’s house. The cook.” He said slowly, clearly. “When he thought I was going to kill him. And I was going to kill him, Marsh. I had drawn my weapon and the time was growing short. I asked for his last words. And he asked me to spare the cook when I slaughtered the rest of his family.”
And then he had thrown himself at the knife. But Kelsier didn’t say that part. He wasn’t even certain why, because what would Marsh make of that? Would he think Kelsier should have stood back and let it happen? Even now, the fear he had felt, the terror at the life leaving his hands, he felt it like a hot knife inside him, slicing at him. He, who had killed so many and never held a second of regret, now felt real pain over what he had done and longed to go back and catch his own hand before the knife had reached the small, fragile body its tip had aimed for.

Kelsier didn’t want this to turn into a full fledged screaming match, he really didn’t. Not that they hadn’t done that before, they had, but that wasn’t how he wanted this to go. He wanted Marsh’s help - when had he ever said that before? - and he wanted his brother to tell him this was the right thing to do. Because he didn’t know, he just didn’t know what he was doing, and he wasn’t used to being so completely in the dark. Was this what other people felt when they said they didn’t know what to do? This crushing uncertainty, drowning him, making it so hard to see straight? He didn’t know how this one boy had managed to turn everything he knew on its head, but it was unsettling and he wished they’d never crossed paths.
Not that he could blame that on anyone but himself, of course. He had come to Nico that night, not the other way around. Would he never get the image of his knife in her chest out of his head?
He knew it was his fault. He knew Marsh had no reason to help him. He didn’t even know why he thought his brother might even try, because there was no reason to, no reason for him to get involved. Maybe he hoped, against everything else, against the world, that Karsh actually cared. This had nothing to do with Kelsier’s quest and nothing to do with Marsh’s life, especially now that he was out of the rebellion.
This was all on Kelsier’s shoulders. Would Marsh leave it that way? Would he tell Kelsier to get out, just get out before he brought disaster down on both of them, before he managed to make this even worse. And he knew he might make it worse, he knew better than to think this would be easily solved. This would take time, and patience, and everything Kelsier didn’t have, and even then it might never be even close to fixed. Even then, after everything...it might just be too little and too late.
He had indeed given this a lot more thought than he normally bothered with. He didn’t often sleep through the night, but rarely was he as unable to as he had been lately. He walked through the mists because he chose to, not because they calmed his restless heart. Until now, until Nico had shown up and tried to put a wrong situation right, until...everything. Everything that was wrong and refused to be ignored.
Why was he trying so hard? Nico wasn’t even a Skaa, wasn’t one of the people he was supposed to care for and protect. He was the enemy, he was someone to defeat and leave behind in the dust, and Kelsier was here at his brother’s doorstep to try and save him from the world, maybe from himself.
The Mistborn didn’t think everything he had done was wrong. He didn’t think he was no better than those he slaughtered. He was, however badly shaken, and it showed in his tone, his hazel eyes that couldn’t quite meet Marsh’s.
“We live in a black and white world because that’s what color it is.” He answered his brother a little stiffly, a bit of his old spark flashing to life in his gaze. “The nobility aren’t morally gray, Marsh. They just aren’t, and you know it. You were part of the rebellion, you led people to their deaths for the cause, you have to know that.”
He wasn’t baiting Marsh, he really wasn’t, but he couldn’t help the words. He still believed it was Skaa versus nobility, he had to believe that or what did he have left? How could he fight this war if he didn’t believe in it anymore?
No, he believed in it. He believed in his people, in the way they were oppressed and the way they would fight it and win. He believed he could save them, and maybe he would start with Nico. Maybe the boy was more Skaa than he was noble, now.
He could just see the way Marsh thought he was actually insane now.
“Any more excited.” He muttered almost sullenly, sounding like a kid trying to get an adult to see his point of view. “I understand that it isn’t ideal, but it’s done now. I don’t think he’s quite out of the woods yet, either. Infection could still raise its head under the wrong circumstances, and if you get him too excited and he reopens it, that’s twice as likely to happen. So just...go easy on him, okay?”
Was he even Kelsier anymore. He didn’t recognize himself, this man asking his brother for help and telling him to be careful. What had Nico done to him? Something bad enough, apparently, that he was here against his better judgment and Marsh was probably wondering who he was and where his little brother had gone. The little brother who would rather recklessly blow through any problem on his own than ever be caught dead asking for help.
Marsh’s comment actually stung, but Kelsier didn’t look away. He wasn’t going to back down, even if he was in the wrong and really should admit it. He met his older brother’s eyes and smiled, the edges of the expression fierce and sharp, and silently dared the other man to do something about it.
Then came the question Kelsier had been dreading. Of course it didn’t line up. Of course Kelsier should have seen that it was manipulation, pure and simple, and he should have been the first person to suggest it. It was so obvious there was more going on, and Kelsier couldn’t blame Marsh for asking what it was, but he also didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t want to explain just how desperate Nico had been, still probably was. He didn’t know what that would do to Marsh’s decision to come and see him.
He met Marsh’s gaze.
Iron on steel.
“He threw himself at me.” He admitted it softly, like the words might hurt less if he said them quietly enough. “When I was holding the knife. He threw himself into my knife and if I hadn’t slightly lowered it already, he would be dead now.”