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

Yes, Breeze cared. Breeze cared more than he let on, and sometimes he wondered why he cared so much about this crew and this man who seemed determined to get them all killed until he somehow managed to pull through last minute, but he did. He even cared about Ham, though from how often they argued it may have been difficult to tell. Breeze cared, and that was why he couldn’t stand the idea of the boy’s heart still beating behind that door. That was why every time he closed his eyes he could see the wounds the boy had inflicted on Kelsier, even though they had mostly healed by the time Kelsier had returned with the boy in his arms. That was why he couldn’t bear the idea of Ham caring. He couldn’t bear the idea of Kelsier training a boy who could be the downfall of the whole crew.
He kept those thoughts to himself, for now. No use bringing that all into it when there were actual feelings – actual lives on the line. He didn’t save his lynchpins when he was debating philosophy with Ham, but he had a feeling they both knew this was very, very different.
The fact that Nico was a child was the only reason he was alive. Breeze wouldn’t kill him, and he hated to see a child’s life ended needlessly, but the rest of the crew wasn’t seeing it the way Breeze was. Breeze didn’t hate the nobility, not the same way the rest of them did. Sure, he would be glad to see them fall, glad to see the new world Kelsier built once they were gone, but he didn’t want to kill them like Kelsier did. Deep down, he wasn’t even sure he thought they all deserved to die. Yet he was absolutely certain there was no other option when it came to the boy.
“He tried to kill Kelsier. Twice. Child or not, he’s a threat.” Breeze would stand firm in that belief, and he almost dropped it until he heard Ham’s quiet words. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he took in a deep breath. The Soother couldn’t look at Ham, not as he processed that. Ham was a father, like Breeze would never be. Ham had a stake in this that Breeze couldn’t even begin to understand.
“He’s not your child. He’s nothing like your children.” The words sounded harsher, perhaps, than Breeze mentioned, and his expression softened after a few moments. “I think, old friend, that you should keep your own kids in mind. They need their father, and they don’t need you getting hurt because you were blinded by the age of an enemy.” Hidden in those words was this: don’t choose this boy over your children.
Even so, Breeze had seen the boy, with the knife buried deep in his stomach, and he shoved the thought aside. Even the deadliest enemy would look like that if they’d been so seriously injured, and they had barely even begun to scratch the surface of how dangerous the kid could be.
“He’s Mistborn, Ham. He’s a noble Mistborn, and the fact that he’s a child doesn’t change that.” He shifted, trying to ignore the image his mind was conjuring up of the boy suffering with an infection under their care because they couldn’t risk giving him pewter. It would have been so much simpler if Kelsier had just left him behind. Maybe, just maybe, if he’d been a Misting Breeze would have made some allowances. A Misting they could defeat easily if things went South. And even with a Mistborn he knew the crew combined would be able to take him down, but at what cost? The boy wouldn’t be dumb enough to make a move with all of them around, and they couldn’t protect Kelsier forever.

Many people would see what Breeze did as manipulation. That was just a side effect of being a Soother, but it was nice to know that nobody on the crew would hold it against him. Just as he wouldn’t blame Hammond for burning pewter when he had stayed up too late and needed a bit of extra strength in the morning, or when he was in the middle of a fight. Breeze wouldn’t blame Spook for burning tin to listen in on conversations he wasn’t invited to be part of, because those were the sorts of skills that were necessary when they needed a lookout. Allomancy was a weapon, sure, but it was also a tool. A tool that didn’t stop being useful when there was no greater goal for the crew. If they had the tool available to them, it would be pointless not to use it.
Most of the time the crew didn’t feel Breeze’s influence. There were times when they did, sure, but they weren’t looking for it often. Besides, it wasn’t like he could invent emotions for them. He was just good – better than most people – at reading the people around him. He also had the right toolset to bring out the emotions they didn’t even realize they had underneath the noise of their doubts and fears and uncertainties.
Perhaps that was why he found himself watching Hammond’s face, seeing the way he was conflicted between the boy on the other side of the door, and the boy who was waiting for him at home. Perhaps that was why he pushed softly at Hammond’s uncertainty, letting it drift to the side. He watched carefully, all the while appearing entirely uninterested, and plucked at his friend’s desire to help the boy, easing it as subtly and carefully as he could. He couldn’t change what Hammond thought, no matter how much he wanted to. The Thug was too good a person, Breeze reflected sorrowfully. Though sometimes he wished to just change Hammond’s mind, Allomancy couldn’t do that. Only a well-crafted argument could, and Breeze was as blind here as Ham.
“No,” Breeze replied under his breath. “I won’t take that into account, because the same could be said for any noble. They all have pressure, Hammond. The pressure to keep in power, or preserve their atium supply. I won’t give this boy a pass.” Deep down, Hammond was afraid of what the boy could do as well. It was just a matter of uncovering that. It was buried in countless other sentiments, and the last thing Breeze wanted was Hammond sensing his touch and accusing him now of attempting to sway the argument. Perhaps that was part of it, but the other part was just that it was difficult to see his friend so conflicted when the answers seemed so clear to him.
“We weren’t the ones that made him our enemy,” Breeze added, glancing at the door as though nervous the boy might overhear. “I don’t know if that was Kelsier’s doing or the work of someone else, but we didn’t make him a weapon. The kindest thing we can do is ensure he doesn’t hurt anyone else.” Breeze didn’t often think in terms of ‘kind,’ but now seemed as good a time as any to start. The kid on the other side of the door had almost won against Kelsier – that was what their fearless leader had left out when he’d arrived carrying the boy. He couldn’t have done that without any formal training, and Kelsier just wanted to make him a more skilled Mistborn. Best case scenario? It was the only way the boy saw to live. Most likely? He wanted to study how Kelsier fought to use it against him.
“On that, at least, we can agree,” Breeze replied, his voice coming out far lighter than he actually felt. Better to feign nonchalance than show how deeply he cared about this. Better act unperturbed than tell Hammond he was terrified of all the ways this could end. “I wish he’d never Snapped either. He may have still found himself at the wrong end of Kelsier’s knife, but at least then we’d not have to question whether he deserved it.”

There was no room for uncertainty here. There was no space to admit that Breeze had no idea what to do in this situation, didn’t know how to account for the training Nico had supposedly received, didn’t like the weight of a child’s life on his shoulders. Really, it wasn’t fair of Kelsier to put them all in this situation. Hammond wasn’t making it any easier, because he had already made his decision, like it or not. He had decided Nico was a child in need of protecting. Breeze had decided Nico was a threat that needed to be mitigated. Kelsier… well, Breeze wished he knew which side Kelsier had bet on. Kelsier was harder to read than the rest of the crew, and much more difficult to Soothe. He seemed to sense it much more easily than many of the other crew members, and he burned copper far more frequently than Clubs did. However, Kelsier was somewhat easier to manipulate than Clubs. The only difference was that Clubs was at least predictable.
Breeze pushed a little bit harder against Hammond’s uncertainty. Against the guilt he was feeling at having a child on the other side of the door. He couldn’t make Hammond feel anything he didn’t already feel, but he could make Hammond a little more malleable. He could make him a little more worried about the threat Nico posed to them and Kelsier. To Hammond’s whole family.
“My dear man, Kelsier was a child too, once.” A child who hadn’t Snapped yet. A child who had yet to kill anybody, a fact that they both knew too well. Maybe they didn’t know as much about Kelsier as they needed to. Maybe they never would. But they both knew the Pits had changed him. “A child who, unlike our visitor here, was not trained to kill. And yet, even without that background, would you like to fight Kelsier? If we let that boy grow up, he’ll pose a threat, Hammond. It would be one thing if he merely hated Kelsier. Hatred can be turned into something else, if you push hard enough. But he’s afraid of him. And people that are afraid do very desperate things.” He shifted, wishing he had answers. Wishing a nobleman hadn’t been thrown into this mess, because politics surrounding a nobleman were always so much more complicated than those involving the Skaa, even when it came to Kelsier’s crew.
“He’s a nobleman.” The words were hard to say, because they led to a thought that Breeze didn’t want to honestly consider. If nobody else in the crew was willing to do what needed to be done, then that job fell to Breeze. If there was one thing Breeze disliked, it was having to do the dirty work himself. It was getting blood on his hands. Especially a child’s blood, no matter how much he railed against Hammond’s insistence upon calling Nico a child.
“You don’t know how the children of the nobility think. But let’s say you’re right. Let’s say this isn’t his idea. He could be working for anybody, he could be leaking information out. He could kill us all quite easily and we would never see it coming.” Gently, Breeze pushed at Hammond’s sympathy, dampening it. Pushed on his sense of security. They were in danger. He just had to get Ham to see it.
His jaw clenched as he heard what else Hammond had to say. “Kelsier trusts us.” The words were hard. “Kelsier managed to turn a group of people with little to nothing in common into a group that functions on trust. We may not like each other much, but Lord Ruler do we trust each other. As difficult as Kelsier makes things, we wouldn’t be here without him. Don’t compare him to the boy.”
Breeze had stopped Soothing Nico a while back, focusing his efforts more on Ham. If Nico was asleep, he’d be okay for a while, and last Breeze had checked he’d been asleep.
Ham’s words were hard to dispute. Who really knew what was right, ever? Breeze was a selfish man, at times. He made decisions that would benefit him, and it wasn’t until he’d joined this blasted crew that he’d started to consider what was right and what was not.
“Had Kelsier been careful, the boy would have grown up. Isn’t that what you want? He may never have Snapped, and he’d have become a nobleman like his father, and we’d be taking him down just like we do the rest of them. You can’t claim any moral high ground here, Hammond. If you let yourself think we’re making the wrong choices, then you won’t be able to stomach the sort of thing we have to do. Like it or not, things happened that brought this boy to us. Good things, bad things, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he’s already a threat and Kelsier’s foolish enough to think he can turn this boy around. I trust Kelsier to do almost anything, but not that. Not that.”
-
Unfortunately for both Breeze and Ham, the sound of slightly raised voices in the hall had woken Nico up. He stood up quietly, curious as to what was being said, and tiptoed to the door so he could hear better. The boy was careful not to let his shadow pass in front of the door for fear of alerting his guards. This could be a test. Ths could be information he wasn’t’ supposed to know, and maybe they wanted to know what he would do if he heard it. How would he react?
What he heard instead was worse. His heart froze, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t stop listening. It was like the wound in his stomach barely even hurt when he was faced with what was being said. It was all things he knew, but… hope was a fragile thing. How could Nico have hope something might succeed here if the crew didn’t believe he could be redeemed? Deep down, Nico wasn’t sure he even wanted to be ‘redeemed.’ Breeze was right. Redemption to him, in that moment, meant turning a back on everything he’d ever learned. He couldn’t do that, even if he wanted to. Still, he didn’t pry himself from the wall, hoping to hear more.

Breeze listened to Ham, almost wishing he could see things the way his friend did. Wishing he could look at Nico and see a child rather than a threat, but in the world they lived in, that wasn’t possible. The fact that he was a child didn’t make him any less of a threat. In fact, it probably made him more dangerous. Children were desperate, and Breeze couldn’t fix desperate.
“It’s not that, my dear Hammond,” Breeze replied, shaking his head. “We had choices, when it came to what our lives looked like. Maybe we didn’t have a great many of them, and perhaps we didn’t choose the right ones, but we had choices.” Breeze couldn’t help but wonder if his choice to leave his noble family and end up… here… had been the right one. Especially when faced with a threat like Nico. But he wouldn’t question that, now when he had gained so very much out of it. Not that he would admit that either – he didn’t like to seem sentimental. “I can’t say whether or not the boy ever had choices, but if he did, he’s already made them. When we were children, we may have become threats, or allies. He’s already well on his way to being what he is, and that will never be our ally, Hammond, let alone our friend.” Could people change? That was a question that Breeze didn’t know if he could answer. He was selfish and he came across as callous and hard-hearted. Kelsier had turned him into someone who would stop and put the rest of the crew before himself, but deep down, wasn’t he the same person? Wasn’t he the same selfish man who was here for the money? The truth was that Breeze didn’t know.
“As much as I insist that he’s a nobleman, I’m not sure it matters whether he’s more noble or skaa at this point.” Breeze rubbed his temple, the only outward sign that he was bothered by any of this. For a man so in tune with the emotions of others, he didn’t particularly like displaying his own. “He wants to kill Kelsier, and we’re supposed to trust Kelsier to train him. He’s an enemy, plain and simple. He’s a threat.”
Breeze sighed, releasing his hold on Hammond’s emotions. Well, most of his hold. Winning arguments was easier when your opponent was more compliant, but this wasn’t a debate, not really. “Isn’t persuasion just manipulating your target into agreeing with you?” Breeze responded, voice surprisingly calm. “Soothing is nothing more than that, on a different level.” But he knew what Hammond meant, and he was willing to back off out of respect for his friend. Ham… wasn’t soft. Breeze knew that better than anyone else. He was tough, and he was willing to extend himself in as many different directions as he had to in order to do the right thing. The only issue was there was no right thing here, and Ham believed there was. It made his opinions on the whole matter… well, soft.
Breeze didn’t say anything for a few moments, turning his attention towards others of Ham’s emotions. Less noticeable ones, perhaps. He came at them with less force, pushing away some of Ham’s fatigue, lessening what was surely a mild bit of anger towards Breeze. Ham, it seemed, didn’t get angry like other people did. His anger was harder to notice, but that was the closest Breeze had ever come to being on the other end of it. Nonetheless, he left Ham’s fear alone, and stopped trying to dampen his sympathy.
“Is it truly cold blood if he’s tried to kill Kelsier? If he’s as much as stated he’s willing to try again? If I could Soothe him into changing his mind about Kelsier, I would. If I could make him tell the truth, or force him to see things as Kelsier does, I would. But it doesn’t work like that, you know that as well as I. If I had any guarantee that he won’t become a threat, maybe I wouldn’t be pushing so hard against keeping him here. I know people, Ham. My entire job in this crew is knowing how people work, and he’s not going to change.” Breeze usually felt himself rather above his little philosophical discussions with Hammond, but this was different. This wasn’t an aside in a meeting, this was life or death. Breeze wasn’t used to those stakes.
“We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of, and we’ll all do more before this is through.” Breeze frowned, letting his eyes close for a moment. He wasn’t prepared for Ham’s question. He wasn’t prepared to answer.
Was he capable of killing a child who couldn’t even defend himself? Was he capable of ridding the crew of this threat, if it fell to him to do so? Breeze didn’t get his hands dirty, he just didn’t. But Breeze also didn’t put himself under fire if it meant protecting the people that he had somehow wound up caring about. Perhaps he didn’t know himself as well as he thought.
Admitting to uncertainty wasn’t an option.
“Yes,” Breeze murmured after several long moments. “If Kelsier asked me to, I would. I trust his judgement, and I trust me own. But you know I dislike bloodying my clothes.”
-
Nico had heard enough. He didn’t understand some of what they were saying – he’d never heard of Soothing before – but he understood enough. It didn’t surprise him that Ham was sticking up for him after their conversation, but that didn’t soften the blow of hearing the other man speak. Yes, Nico was going to die here, at the hands of these men. There was no other option for him, and he had been foolish to think there was. Part of him wanted to interrupt, to stop them from fighting because there was something about a divided crew that made him uncomfortable. But he didn’t. He sat still where he was, listening to hear anything else they might say. He couldn’t help but feel that the other man was right. Like it or not, Minos had turned him into a weapon, and there was nothing else he felt he had the capacity to be. Whether Kelsier managed to wield said weapon was another matter entirely.

Breeze didn’t look at Hammond, instead choosing to focus on a spot on the floor. He knew how dangerous this whole conversation was. He knew the kid behind that door would tear apart the entire crew if he had his way, and he didn’t even have to life a finger. Selfishly, Breeze wished he had just died when Kelsier stabbed him. It would have been easier for all of them, and there would have been no guilty consciences. Except, of course, Kelsier, but they had given the kid pewter. If he had died regardless, it wouldn’t have been Kelsier’s fault. He still might die, if infection settled in. Was it cruel to wish such a fate on a boy who looked more Skaa than noble? It didn’t matter to Breeze who the boy’s parents were. Just what he had come to. The danger he posed to the rest of the crew.
“It doesn’t matter if he did the best he could,” Breeze replied, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter if he’s innocent in what he became or if he made the conscious choice to become a threat to us. We can’t afford to cut him slack because of his past.” Breeze knew that would sound hypocritical coming from him, but part of him didn’t care. Nico was a threat, he was dangerous, and Breeze might have been selfish and manipulative, but he had never been an active threat. “He’s not one of us. It doesn’t matter, for us, where we came from or what our pasts look like, because we made the decision to become Kelsier’s crew. And, for all of us, it’s a decision we’d make again. Sure, maybe some of us needed convincing, but Hammond… all of us are against the Lord Ruler. All of us believe in this goal, even if we’re more in it for the reward than for completing the task itself.” The humorless smile on his face indicated he was referring to himself. “This boy isn’t like that, and we don’t have endless time or money or even patience to change him, even if he’s receptive. We can’t afford to drag a child into this mess, let alone one that might kill us for trying to help him. I’m only saying there’s a reason your children aren’t part of the crew.” If Hammond was going to insist so heavily on the point that Nico was a child… then Breeze would go down that route as well.
“I don’t know that he can’t change. We’re just not the kind of people that can change him. We don’t have the resources, and we can’t let anyone else do it. He’s one child. Hundreds die every day because of people like this boy’s father.” As detached as Breeze tried to make himself sound, he didn’t entirely succeed this time around. This wasn’t a situation that any of them wanted to be in. He wanted to try to see Nico how Ham saw him, wanted to see a boy who could change and grow, but even if that were possible… they were only thieves. They were thieves under the very man who had murdered this boy’s sister. As much as Breeze respected Kelsier, it had been murder. Assassination was too kind a word, and the child hadn’t been important enough to deserve it. She wasn’t someone to take down, even if Breeze could see what Kelsier had intended by it.
The one thing Breeze couldn’t say aloud, the one uncertainty he held deep in his heart, was that there was no right answer. There was no right way to move forward, because Breeze was right in assuming the boy was a threat, but Ham was also correct in labeling him as a child. For the first time, they were face to face with the fact that the two weren’t mutually exclusive.
Breeze turned to glance at Ham for a moment, not dignifying that with a response. It was just another way of making an argument, and he had backed off. If Ham wanted to be angry with him over the fact that Breeze was helping him stay on his feet for a little longer, that was fine. Soothing couldn’t do much more beyond what pewter was already doing, but it could help. It could make Ham feel just a little less exhausted, a luxury that Breeze couldn’t grant himself.
“I hate to speak ill of him, but our dear Kel is a poor Soother. He doesn’t understand how people work, and his decision to kill the boy’s sister… the nobility would never show they care about family deaths. If he wanted to target Lord Hades, he might have tried a different tactic.” He took a deep breath in, letting his eyes close for a moment. Sitting on the floor was uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure how much more of this argument he could take before his nerves frayed entirely and he lost his cool demeanor. “We believe in him to do the impossible, but do you really believe he can change the boy when he failed to even touch his father?”
Breeze fell silent for a few moments, letting the conversation hang in the air. Letting both of their doubt in Kelsier air for just a few moments. They were on different sides in this argument, but only Breeze knew they were both terrified of what making the wrong choice could do here. Only Breeze could see that they were both shaken.
“I know, Hammond,” Breeze replied, letting his exhaustion seep into his tone for the first time since the conversation started. “I know you wouldn’t.” He looked at his friend, wishing he could do more than soothe away the exhaustion that lined the Thug’s face. This was an impossible situation, and the truth was, Breeze didn’t know for certain that he was correct here. Hammond, in spite of the fact that this wasn’t the philosophical issue they were treating it as, had made some good points. “You’ve always been the best of us, my dear man.”

Breeze watched Ham for a few moments, loosening his touch on the other man’s emotions. The only thing he was suppressing now was some of Ham’s fatigue, trying to give him a little more energy as he sat guarding the door. This wasn’t even really an argument anymore. It wasn’t a fight, it was just… a disagreement. A fundamental one. Breeze was used to disagreeing with Ham. He was used to being, at times, purposefully playing the devil’s advocate. He wasn’t doing that here. It was too serious, even he felt that. There was nothing either of them could do about it, and no matter how it played out, one of them would be hurt. If Breeze played a part in taking Nico down when that eventually became necessary, he knew it was likely Ham wouldn’t forgive him. If Nico managed to hurt the crew or even Kelsier? Breeze wasn’t sure he’d be able to forgive Ham for not taking it seriously. This boy could tear apart the entire crew.
“If he had a choice, then he was fortunate,” Breeze said, something in his voice a little bit gruff. Breeze had been given a choice. Breeze had – he hoped – chosen the right path. Not that he gave much thought to ‘right’ and ‘wrong.’ There were so many children – the children they were fighting for – that never got a chance. Breeze frowned. Kelsier had managed to make him care about not only the crew, but about the entirety of the skaa as well. Breeze, a selfish, manipulative man, was no revolutionary. Yet that was exactly what Kelsier had turned him into. Perhaps the Survivor of Hathsin really was capable of the impossible. Although Breeze still wasn’t certain about the situation he’d gotten them into this time.
“Perhaps,” Breeze mused, not wanting to agree. “I still wouldn’t bet on it.” Changing people was no easy feat, though Breeze himself had always considered himself to be unchangeable. If Nico were any other child – if he weren’t Mistborn, if he hadn’t succeeded in injuring Kelsier – then maybe Breeze would stand by and hope that Kelsier could work his magic on the boy as well. There was just too much at stake here, and he was tired of arguing it. He was tired of being at odds with Ham on something so important.
Silence followed Breeze’s statement for several long moments and he let it pass. Kelsier might have been to blame for getting into this situation, but the rest of the crew was equally as guilty depending on what happened from here. If Breeze wanted to find someone who agreed with him, he would go talk to Clubs. That wasn’t why he was here, though. That wasn’t why he had continued the conversation while sitting on the terribly uncomfortable ground, and that wasn’t why he felt so defeated now. Neither of them had won the argument, and neither was going to budge. Breeze could feel the start of a headache forming at his temple.
“It always has been about doing the right thing for you, hasn’t it?” Breeze asked quietly, casting a sideways glance in Ham’s direction. Yes, Hammond was a better person than most of them. Breeze himself had been in it for the reward, at first. He told himself that still was why he stayed, but it wasn’t. Not really. Damn Kelsier and making Breeze actually care about things. It was the only reason he was still sitting on the floor with Ham, in spite of the fact that surely it was wrinkling his clothing and his body would hate him for it in the morning. They couldn’t all burn pewter to aide in aches and pains.
“Yes, well,” Breeze muttered, pushing himself to his feet after a few moments of hesitation. “Perhaps when I’m on guard I’ll be willing to tolerate some inane philosophical prattle if it makes the time pass.”
-
Hearing the conversation reach a natural end, Nico moved as quietly as he could back towards the bed. Nobody was going to kill him right that moment, which… although a terrifying concept, was more or less a relief. He didn’t know what to expect from training. He was still terrified by the idea of it. There wasn’t much he wasn’t terrified of at the moment, if Nico were being honest. He just had to hope that Hammond hadn’t heard him move back to the bed. He didn’t know what the punishment would be for eavesdropping. He was fairly certain he didn’t want to find out – he was also fairly certain he’d be subjected to it at some point. Better make that happen later rather than instantly.
-
Marsh arrived at the crew’s latest hideout, not even turning to check that Kelsier was following. He knew he would be. The better question was whether it would be on foot or whether he was leaping around with the powers he still seemed to mostly use to show off. Marsh knew it was more than that, but it didn’t take away the bitter taste in his mouth. Kelsier. Mistborn.
It didn’t matter now, that wasn’t why he was here. He was here to help fix a terrible mistake. He was here, in part, to make sure the kid wasn’t lying, wasn’t manipulating Kelsier. If he was, then one of them would have to kill him. The unfortunate bit was that Marsh couldn’t prove that he was telling the truth. He could only prove that the boy was flaring, and he could try to help Kelsier come up with a plan. He had a feeling they were all terribly out of their depth.
“Perhaps you should go let the boy know he has a visitor,” Marsh prompted Kelsier, his expression remaining unchanged.

Nico had done his best to calm himself down after overhearing the conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear – and he was certain by now that he hadn’t bean meant to hear it – but the knock on his door just served to recreate all of the tension he’d felt before. A flash of fear filled him at the image of the well-dressed man who had disapproved of him so obviously coming in to kill him. Perhaps he would make it quick. Perhaps he would do what Kelsier had failed to do – for reasons that Nico still couldn’t quite wrap his head around. Would his heart ever stop beating faster and faster when he heard a knock at the door? Would he ever stop reaching for weapons – and metals – that he didn’t have access to? As long as there were people in the crew who wanted to kill him, Nico doubted the answer to that question would be yes. He was afraid, plain and simple. He had every right to be. He had the wounds to prove that Kelsier was dangerous. Dangerous, yet somehow merciful. That was a contradiction that Nico’s mind couldn’t even begin to contemplate. Therefore, Kelsier was cruel. Cruel and hypocritical and dishonest. Until proven otherwise.
He shrunk up against the wall, straining his ears. He thought he heard more than one set of footsteps, but he was out of tin, he couldn’t tell for sure. He didn’t know, and that scared him. That really, really scared him.
“Come in,” he managed, breathless. It was easier than pretending he was asleep or acting like he didn’t hear. Kelsier could come in whenever he wanted, regardless of whether Nico wanted him to or not. Yet he had expressed disapproval when Nico had pointed that out, and Nico was on his best behavior from now… well, from now until he died. He could obey someone he hated. He’d done that for years already.

Nico didn’t dare try to get into a position to attack. He didn’t dare even imply that he was capable of fighting back, though they both knew he was. He knew it wasn’t likely that Kelsier was ever going to underestimate him, but if he set himself up as someone who wasn’t a threat… then maybe training wouldn’t be as awful as he imagined. Maybe Kelsier wouldn’t even go through with it if he felt that Nico didn’t want to fight back. He didn’t even care that it wasn’t an option. He shifted, holding a hand carefully against the bandage where he knew the wound lay underneath. His eyes were just a tiny bit glazed with pain, but not as much as before. He wanted pewter, but he didn’t dare ask. The answer was always going to be no, so why would he waste his breath? Why would he risk upsetting Kelsier?
His unsteady breathing evened out once Kelsier was in the room. Once Kelsier took a step forward without attacking.
“I thought you said we weren’t starting for a couple of days.” He watched Kelsier warily, not sure if he’d even be able to stand on his own yet if Kelsier had come to take him for training. Which, he realized with a grim smile, was exactly the kind of thing Minos would have pulled. Promising one thing and then showing up not a few hours later to laugh at Nico for assuming his words to be true. His hands clutched the sheet of the bed, knuckles white. He purposefully kept them out of Kelsier’s line of sight.
This was a game of survival now, and Nico was willing to play by the rules for now. He didn’t expect Kelsier to do anything other than decide what his own rules were without bothering to inform Nico until he was being punished for breaking them. He just felt hollow thinking about it. He felt hollow in general, as though the blade had done more than pierce his flesh when it had entered his body. As though it had hollowed him out entirely.

Nico caught the way Kelsier looked at the bandage, and he moved to cover it up with the blanket as though that would make any difference. As though that would erase the fact that it was there. He didn’t know what emotion appeared so briefly in Kelsier’s eyes, but something told him he didn’t want to find out. His jaw clenched and he waited for Kelsier to speak. Kelsier wasn’t a monster, not really. He was just a man who had done terrible things. Then again… hadn’t everybody? The only difference was that not everybody had ruined Nico’s life in particular. He watched Kelsier’s smile, wishing he knew what it meant. Wishing he understood why Kelsier insisted on wearing a smile no matter the situation. It felt, at times, like mockery.
“Just talking, huh?” he asked, like he didn’t quite believe it. Hadn’t they just been talking when Kelsier had decided to kill him? His arms curled protectively tighter around him, as though he could shield himself. Kelsier had said he wasn’t going to kill him, but that meant nothing. Promises could be so easily broken. He had a dozen questions, but he forced himself to swallow them instead of asking. Questions could only get him in trouble.
“Is this a… a second trial, or something?” Okay, so one question slipped out without him stopping it. There was something like fire in his eyes, though he forced them towards the blanket rather than at Kelsier. The first trial hadn’t exactly been fair. Kelsier had been judge, jury, and executioner. Only Nico hadn’t died. Why would Kelsier’s brother be kinder? If he cared about Kelsier the way Nico had cared about Bianca… he’d get rid of any potential threat to his brother’s life as soon as possible. Kelsier had promised not to kill Nico, but his brother hadn’t. Clever. A way to get around such a promise without actually breaking it.
“No trial,” Marsh replied, stepping into the room without checking to see if Kelsier was ready for him. “I just have a few questions.”

Nico’s eyes narrowed as another man entered the room. He could see the resemblance, only Marsh seemed more… put together… than Kelsier did. Marsh looked more like a noble pretending to be Skaa, and Kelsier like a Skaa playing at nobility. Or maybe just mocking it. Nico felt his hands curl into fists underneath the blanket, and his entire body was tensed as though he was ready to spring. There was something about the relationship between the two that seemed complex. The way Kelsier had stepped aside for Marsh, the way Marsh was probably only here because Kelsier had asked for his guidance, or maybe he was here because he didn’t trust Kelsier, or… Nico didn’t know. He just knew that there was respect between them, and at the same time there was absolutely none at all.
“Being annoyed with anyone here feels like a very bad idea,” Nico replied carefully, casting his gaze down so his expression couldn’t be read. He didn’t know what to think of Marsh, he just knew that he wasn’t expecting to be alive at the end of this conversation. If it was even going to be a conversation. It sounded more like an interrogation. Couldn’t be worse than the first one he’d had with Kelsier, though Nico’s track record with interrogations was not great. Maybe Marsh would stab him somewhere else that hurt but wouldn’t kill him.
“Besides, no matter what questions he asks, he’s not gonna like the answers.” It was easier to speak to Kelsier than it was to look at Marsh. He knew what Kelsier was capable of. He was a familiar enemy. Marsh was a variable Nico hadn’t factored in. He’d always been bad at math.
Marsh sent a quick glance of annoyance at Kelsier but said nothing more. His lips were pressed into a thin line as he appraised the situation, trying to figure out the sort of mess Kelsier had gotten himself into. Logically, he’d understood they were dealing with a child, it just hadn’t caught up to him until he saw how small the boy sitting in front of them truly was.
He glanced at Kelsier briefly, appraising, then looked back at Nico. He was not a gentle man, not the sort to coddle a child or even know how to deal with one in the first place. He frowned for a moment before speaking.
“My brother’s told me how you ended up here. I’d like to hear it from you, too.”
Nico’s mouth opened for a moment as though he was about to begin speaking before his gaze drifted to Kelsier. He met the man’s eyes, something in his expression asking Kelsier’s permission to speak. Asking him if it would be alright, if answering would be the right thing. He may not have trusted Kelsier not to hurt him, but he didn’t know how to navigate this alone. As much as he hated it, Kelsier was the closest thing he had to a guide.

Nico fell silent for a very long time, the blanket bunched in his fists as he tried to figure out what to say. He could tell that Kelsier and Marsh were both very, very similar, and very, very different, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know what would set Marsh off, not like he knew what would push Kelsier’s buttons. He was good at reading people, at learning and adapting from the conversations he had with them. The issue was that he had absolutely no prior experience with Marsh, and anything could be the wrong thing to say. The only certainty was that saying nothing was, without a doubt, the wrong thing to do.
Slowly, he lifted his dark gaze up enough to be able to see Marsh and Kelsier. Once he had permission to speak, it was like he had no words. Like he wasn’t able to describe what happened at all. He couldn’t meet Marsh’s eyes. They were intense, steely. Like they could pry the secrets out of him. Well, at least he was honest. Kelsier’s eyes lied. They danced and promised warmth and joy and light and then they killed and prodded and interrogated.
“From the beginning?” He asked, and Marsh gave a nod of assent.
“Say as much or as little as you choose,” Marsh added, “If you want to say Kelsier’s a prat, feel free.” He met Kelsier’s gaze for just a moment before continuing. “You have my brother’s protection, and seeing as you’re under his roof, I won’t undermine his authority on that front.”
Nico hesitated for another moment before lowering his head again and beginning.
“It was just a normal night. I wanted to keep playing games but Father had gone to sleep and Bianca didn’t want to risk waking him, so she went into her room. I wasn’t tired, so once I had put the game away I went to her room and,” he sucked in a shallow breath, his hands curling in closer to his body as though he could protect himself from the past. “I saw her die. And the Survivor told me it was House Venture, but I didn’t believe him and… I went after him the next night. I had never used Allomancy before, and I didn’t think I was going to live, but I just wanted one hit. One. I… didn’t get it. All I got was a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding and a door that wouldn’t open. And… and Minos found me in the street, and he trained me as best he could until I killed him because he told me my sister’s death was a blessing. And then I tracked the Survivor for a few months before I found him and almost killed him, but I tried to save him from an Inquisitor instead, and… and then I guess he saved me from the same Inquisitor. Which would probably mean a lot more if…” he trailed off before he could sound too bitter, but his hand had moved visibly to his bandage. He hadn’t shared anything Kelsier didn’t already know. Probably. He didn’t want to be known by these people. He just wanted to know if he could expect any sort of future at all. Even one as a weapon.
“I see,” Marsh replied, considering. He gave a tiny, ephemeral smile that, to Nico, felt far more genuine than Kelsier’s, if only because it seemed rarer. As it turned out, Nico still had a lot to learn about Kelsier. “I suppose,” Marsh continued, his tone completely serious, “That most of your story can be summed up as “Kelsier was a prat.”, am I correct?”
Nico couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped him, though he immediately looked guilty and curled further in on himself. Marsh cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Kelsier, surprised by the reaction he received. Briefly, he wondered about his brother’s insight on the situation.

Marsh cast a glance at Kelsier, deciding to ignore the protests. If Kelsier wanted to say he wasn’t a prat, fine. They both knew he had been called worse. Besides, the fact that Marsh had gotten Nico to laugh – even if it was unintentional – was probably a good sign. He wouldn’t apologize for that. Even if Kelsier was glaring daggers at him. Unlike most people, Marsh was never intimidated by the murderous glare Kelsier tended to send out.
That was the simpler part of the situation. What was more complicated was… well, everything that brought them here. For all he knew, Nico could be lying. Nico could be painting Kelsier in a worse light than even he deserved, but Marsh knew his brother. He knew what he was capable of, when he was angry enough, when he set his mind to it. The story didn’t surprise him at all, especially since he had heard at least part of it from Kelsier before. He took a deep breath, looking at Nico. The boy looked frightened, and Marsh could see why. What had he been put through? What more would he be put through? Marsh pinched the bridge of his nose before looking at Kelsier. What did Kelsier think he was doing?
“Kelsier says your training left something to be desired. Would you mind if we tested that?”
Nico cast another glance at Kelsier, his expression inscrutable. He didn’t understand, he didn’t know why Kelsier had brought Marsh here, he didn’t know why Marsh was asking to test this, because that could only mean one thing… Nico watched, his eyes widening and his heart racing, as Marsh produced a vial of metals. Er… probably not metals, plural. He didn’t think Marsh was Mistborn – he had a feeling Kelsier would have said something if he was. Besides, two Mistborn in one non-noble family? That wasn’t possible. Well… it possible, Nico reminded himself. And these men both had noble blood in their veins. Or maybe they just had blood, because there really wasn’t that much of a difference between noble blood and skaa blood. The realization hit him hard enough that he gasped quietly, but he did his best to stifle it. Why did it matter where someone’s family was from? Why did it matter noble or skaa, if they both bled red? Nico’s chest tightened and he looked away from both Marsh and Kelsier. He needed time. He needed time to sort this out, needed time where people weren’t telling him what to do and who to believe. He was so tired of being fed lies.
“I need you to burn this.” Marsh’s voice was firm, and he didn’t wait for Kelsier to object. He doubted Kelsier would. It was, after all, bronze, and Kelsier famously underestimated its usefulness.
Nico cast one last glance at Kelsier before reaching for the vial and very carefully unscrewing it and tilting it up to his lips. He reached down to burn it, frowning as he found his tin, pewter, steel, or iron stores empty.
“What is this?” he murmured, eyes narrowing as he looked at Marsh. He’d never burned this, and though he knew he could, he was suddenly terrified to try. There were metals that could do things to other people or the Allomancer themself, weren’t there? Minos had spoken of them in hushed tones, warning Nico that most of them were dangerous. Most of them weren’t to be burned unless absolutely necessary.
Marsh pursed his lips, turning back to look at Kelsier. That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. Quietly, he shook his head and looked back at Nico. “It’s bronze. Please burn it, I promise you won’t come to harm.”
Nico’s eyes widened, then closed his eyes and began to burn. It was normal at first before Nico reflexively began flaring. Marsh, his own bronze turned on, narrowed his eyes.
“Is that the only way you know how to burn?”
Nico turned the bronze off, eyes narrowing as he looked back at Marsh. “What?”

Nico looked between Marsh and Kelsier, trying to figure out what he was missing. They were talking about something like he should know some other form of burning other than… well, burning. He wanted to say ‘What sort of idiots are you, there’s only one way of burning,’ but he kept his mouth firmly shut. He didn’t like the feeling of bronze. He didn’t know what it was, or why it seemed to make something visible when Kelsier and Marsh were burning. He figured it could be useful in some circumstances, if you wanted to figure out that other people were Allomancers. Nico had just sort of figured that you had to guess. Was bronze rare? Was that why Minos hadn’t told him about it? That didn’t make sense… atium was the rarest metal there was, and he had burned that plenty of times before. So… was it dangerous? Were Kelsier and Marsh lying?
“I didn’t know there were more than five metals,” he admitted quietly, frowning down at this odd sixth metal. What was its purpose? Was this responsible for the Soothing he had overheard Breeze mention? Nico didn’t like that idea, but he didn’t say anything about it – he wasn’t supposed to have been listening in the first place. He probably wasn’t supposed to know what Soothing was anyway.
“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he murmured, shaking his head. “If burning more than one way is like… advanced Allomancy, then I don’t know it. I told you, I’m impossible to train.” He cast his gaze downwards, trying not to look at either Kelsier or Marsh. He had let down Minos already, part of him didn’t want to let down Kelsier as well. Then again… it was probably better Kelsier see how impossible Nico was earlier rather than later.
“No,” Marsh cut in, frowning. He looked at Kelsier for a moment, almost expecting this to be his fault. This time, though, he couldn’t blame Kelsier. He could only blame Minos, and the way the boy had been trained. This, at least, was only marginally Kelsier’s fault. If Kelsier hadn’t attacked… the child likely would have Snapped at some point, but he might have been trained by someone competent. He wouldn’t have been trained underground, taught to flare instead of burn…
“The way he’s trained isn’t sustainable,” Marsh whispered, quietly enough that Nico wouldn’t be able to hear. He stepped forward again, meeting Nico’s gaze. “Is that the way you burn all of your metals?”
Nico frowned, meeting Marsh’s eyes for just a moment before looking away. “Yes,” he managed. He grit his jaw, trying to figure out why Marsh was asking. What he could possibly hope from asking such a question. He glanced up at Kelsier after a moment, wondering what they were both getting at. “I’m sorry if I can’t burn metals well enough. But don’t blame Minos.” He hugged his knees to his chest, staring at the ground and wishing they would both just… go away. He knew he would never get the chance to handle this on his own, but he wanted to. He wanted to figure out his place in the world, and the way things were different from what he had been taught, but… he didn’t trust Kelsier to let him figure it out. He trusted Kelsier to turn him into some sort of weapon, just like Minos had. Was Minos really that bad? Tears burned at the back of his eyes, but he did his best not to let them through. The last thing he wanted was to cry here and now, facing Kelsier and his equally as terrifying brother.
“Please burn it again,” Marsh instructed. Nico hesitated, looking back up before remembering what would happen if he hesitated, if he didn’t obey… Minos was kinder than Kelsier or Marsh would be. He had to remember that. Nico began flaring almost immediately.
“Very good,” Marsh continued. “Now look at me. Do you see the pulse of me burning bronze?”
Nico looked over, frowning. “Yes,” he murmured in a very tiny voice. The pulse grew brighter and quicker and he diverted his gaze almost immediately.
“Do you see the difference?”
“Yes.”
Marsh looked over at Kelsier, raising an eyebrow. Your turn to explain, his expression said.

The answer that lay against Nico’s tongue wasn’t the one that Kelsier wanted. Confusion… confusion was a sign of weakness, and Nico couldn’t let Kelsier see that he was weak. But he also couldn’t seem too stubborn, either, or he’d be called out for being insubordinate. It wasn’t an easy situation to navigate, and Nico didn’t know how to handle it. He didn’t know what the rules were, but he was going to have to figure that out as quickly as possible. If he didn’t? Well, no matter what promises Kelsier had made, he was fairly certain he wasn’t going to survive very long here.
He saw the glances Marsh and Kelsier passed between each other, and though he didn’t know what they meant, he could tell that whatever they were murmuring was serious. He wished he hadn’t used up his tin so quickly. He could have used it to overhear what they were saying. But then again, if Bronze was a thing, if Bronze meant you could see another person burning, then they’d know he was eavesdropping, and the punishment for that wasn’t something Nico wanted to risk.
“So you’re saying I’d be even worse at Allomancy if I didn’t… flare?” The question slipped out before Nico could help it, and there was more than a touch of wariness in his tone. He already wasn’t very good. He hadn’t been able to beat Kelsier – or if he had, he’d stopped before he was strong enough to kill him. There was something about the idea of killing that still sent a shudder down his spine, even if it was someone like Kelsier. Even if it was someone who deserved it as retribution for all of the lives they had taken.
From Nico’s perspective, he was already pretty bad at Allomancy. If flaring made you better, more powerful… and he was flaring… what would it be like if he didn’t? It took him a moment to realize he hadn’t exactly answered the question, and his face went slack with fear for a moment as he desperately tried to parse together the right words.
“Burning isn’t easy,” he managed softly. “At least… not that I’ve ever felt.” He watched Kelsier for a long moment, hugging his knees to his chest before glancing at Marsh as well. “But I’ve never done anything other than… flaring,” he hesitated before using the word, unsure if he was doing it right, but he pushed forward before he was called out, “So I don’t know, but… no, it’s never felt easy.” He stared at the ground, waiting for one or both of them to laugh at him or reprimand him or… something. He was being honest, but only answering the bare minimum they asked for. If he just did that, if he avoided giving any more unnecessary information… maybe he could survive this. Was that too wild a hope? Even if he survived… what came after?
“Minos says it’s all supposed to be easy,” he added, hoping that might help. It was better if it was Minos’ word against Kelsier’s rather than Nico’s own half-baked opinions. Or… not so much half-baked as shoved on him and beaten into him for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t used to being allowed his own opinions. “He frequently was upset with me because I didn’t have as much stamina as I should have.” That felt important to mention, right off the bat. Kelsier would be upset if he found out later that Nico didn’t have as much endurance as he should have, right?

Marsh listened to every word, his arms crossed and lips pursed. There were things he wanted to say to Kelsier, but he found his main quarrel wasn’t with Kelsier, but instead with Minos. It was a good thing the nobleman was dead, he considered, as he watched Kelsier’s expression carefully. Marsh had assumed the job had been Kelsier’s originally, and he was almost certain that Kelsier now wished it had been. He would let Kelsier handle the desperation in the kid’s voice. After all, there was bound to be a lot of that over the next however long Kelsier intended to let the kid stay. Forever seemed the only logical option, but even Kelsier couldn’t keep a noble Mistborn secret for forever.
His grey eyes flitted between Kelsier and Nico for a moment, appraising. It would be difficult to train the kid out of exclusively flaring. How Kelsier handled it now was going to be a good indicator of how actually training him was going to go. And if it didn’t go well? Marsh exhaled softly, a bit of disdain in his expression. There was nothing he could do that would convince Kelsier of how horrendous of an idea this was. For the kid’s sake – and for his own – Marsh hoped this went well.