Chapter Text
Alexi had always hated Corvo's stealth lessons. There was a right way and a wrong way to engage your enemy, and sneaking up behind them is decidedly wrong.
For all that, she thanked him under her breath as she snuck up behind Jack. His right hand slowly dripped blood from the knuckles, leaving a tiny pool under his fist that splashed incessantly on the wood.
He must have got into a fight with another watchman again , she thought to herself, drawing closer still. She had never liked Jack, but she wouldn't have expected him to side with that traitor Duke and his lapdog, Ramsey . He could be a prick, but she had trusted him, and she hated him all the more for that betrayal.
Corvo's words played like an audiograph in her head. "Cutting a man's throat is all well and good, but if you need a man killed quick and quiet, it's best to put the whole blade through the throat"
With a quick breath to fortify herself, she plunged Corvo's own blade into Jack's throat, feeling the resistance ebb as the tip entered his windpipe, then bearing down again to drive the point out the other side.
"Just like that, you hit two major arteries and both of the major veins. As soon as the knife comes out, he's dead. To make it quiet, you have to push forward, tear out his voicebox"
Alexi pushed, and the razor tine of the blade's handguard caught in his neck and pulled the voicebox out with it. Blood gushed, coating her hands, the hilt of Corvo's sword, and ruining Emily's favorite carpet.
She opened her mouth to curse, but closed it before she could say anything more. There was another guard in front of her.
It seemed, at least, that Corvo's method for silently killing people worked wonders, as the second watchman seemingly hadn't heard a thing. Seeing Jack’s corpse on the ground, she wondered if killing him had come too easily.
Alexi followed the second watchman, and as he walked down the stairs, she wrapped her arm around his throat.
"When you're knocking someone out, the fastest is to cut off the blood to his brain. Wrap your left arm around his neck, and before you squeeze,"
The man's hands shot up, grabbing Alexi's arm.
"Knock his hands away so you get a good seal, otherwise it'll take too long."
Alexi knocked his hands down with her right,
"Use your forearm to make a triangle."
Alexi wrapped her elbow around her wrist and put her hand on the back of the man's head. She pushed, bearing down on his head as hard as she could, squeezing as tight as she could. Finally, after what felt like hours of agonizing effort, he went limp and she let him go. He tumbled down a couple of the steps before coming to a stop. Alexi crept forward further, until she could hear Captain Ramsey's voice, clear as a bell despite the door that separated them. He was lecturing a pair of watch officers about his family's fall from grace again.
When Captain Ramsey walked through the door, Alexi stayed hidden. She took in everything-the graying hair, the large hands, bloody, no doubt from killing a Watch officer who wouldn't turn his back on the real empress. On his hand, a ring. Emily's ring. The signet ring that Anton Sokolov had made only two of, and one of them had turned to stone along with Corvo.
Alexi saw red, and ran at him.
She only saw flashes, her body working automatically. A glint of steel before blades clashed. A spray of red as Corvo's blade erupted out of his back. The carpet, Ramsey above her. A second spray of red as Ramsey pulled the sword out. The certainty she would die. A glint of steel. Another sword. A City Watch standard smallsword, now in her hand as she scrambled to her knees behind Ramsey. The sword was heavier than Corvo's, but felt flimsier, less sharp. While duller, it was still sharp enough to find Mortimer Ramsey's twisted heart and release a final spray of crimson as he collapsed.
Alexi wrenched Corvo's sword out of Ramsey's hand, then pulled Emily's signet ring off of his quickly cooling finger.
Alexi made her way back upstairs to where Emily lay, unconscious in the room they had both been thrown into after the coup. Emily's pulse was still weak, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Alexi tucked the long knife into her belt, wiping blood onto her coat. It might be fitting for Emily to use that same knife Delilah had driven into her back when they took revenge. She left the empty vial of S&J's on the ground and grunted as she lifted Emily over her shoulder.
She managed to get Emily onto the mattress in the safe room, then locked the door behind them. Thank the Outsider there was more S&J elixir in the safe room. She managed to feed Emily about half of the bottle, and left the other half next to her in case she woke up soon.
There wasn't much else to find in the safe room, but she did find the spyglass Sokolov built for Emily as well as a pistol, one half of the dueling case she had been given for her sixteenth birthday. Alexi tucked both into her belt next to Delilah's knife, and found the scarf that Emily had given her years ago.
It was the Fugue Feast in 1848, and Alexi had been one of the Watch officers stationed to the palace, to ensure the revelry didn't kill or maim anyone critical to running the isles. Only a few hours into her posting, Emily, wearing an elaborate golden mask, had managed to wheedle Alexi into joining her in the safe room. There, Emily had laid her head in Alexi's lap on the small mattress. They had smoked white-leaf tobacco together, which gave the night a hazy, barely-there feeling, like if she thought too hard about it, the memory might slip away from her. She knew that they had talked for hours, and everything she said had made Emily smile sweetly, and everything Emily said had made her face warm. Towards the end of the night, Emily had handed her a silk scarf, a red so deep it seemed nearly black in the candlelight, laced through with gossamer strands of gold in geometric patterns.
Forcing herself back to the present, she wrapped the scarf around her neck. That was a memory she didn't want to leave behind.
There was a foot locker under the table, which she remembered Emily had filled with weapons and trophies through the years. Alexi twisted the dials to the day's date, 181, and it sprang open. Weapons spilled out. Knives, pistols, swords, a crossbow, more bullets and bolts than she could carry all cascaded across the floor. How Emily had fit an entire Outsider-blackened arsenal into the tiny foot locker, she had no idea. At the bottom of the heap of sharp implements, there was a thick leather strap. She picked it up. It was the wristbow Emily had stolen from the Whaler gang last year, a story that had terrified her to no end, and launched her into a protracted screaming match with Corvo. He was supposed to be training her as the next Royal Protector. How could she protect Emily if she didn’t know even half of the things she was in danger from?
She buckled the leather strap around her wrist and twisted the wristbow, locking it into place like Emily had shown her. She had only shot it a handful of times, most of the bolts going wide, but a hidden weapon like that was too useful to pass up. She filled the internal quiver with a handful of hardbolts, and crammed another handful of sleep darts into her coat.
Emily still hadn't woken up, so she tried to feed her the rest of the elixir. Emily managed to swallow most of it, but still wouldn't wake up. Alexi slung her over her shoulder, and walked to the rooftop exit, leaving the safe room. She just wished it didn't feel so final, like she was saying goodbye to the palace for good.
She managed to get into the Dunwall Courier building unseen, and had knocked out the watchman patrolling the lower level. She tied and gagged him using strips cut from the drapes, just in case. Emily sat safely nearby, though still unconscious, in one of the chairs on the lower level.
Alexi crept up the stairs, quieter than a snuffed candle. Reaching the top, she realized she didn't even have to exercise as much caution as she had, since a watch officer was screaming loud enough that he wouldn't hear a thing outside his own head. He was yelling about "printing sedition" and that the news editor was a traitor to "Empress Delilah", and just as he pulled back his fist to hit the man again, he glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Alexi.
Alexi was caught off guard, not expecting to be seen. She caught the officer's sword in her naked palm, crying out as she felt the blade scrape across the small bones in her hand.
Fighting back tears, she closed her hand around his blade. Further pain erupted as the sharp back edge bit into her fingers. She knew that the sound of metal grating on bone would not be leaving her soon.
Even so, she managed to thrust Corvo's sword into the man's eye.
That audiograph of Corvo's voice played again in her head. "See this crease next to the nose, where the tear duct meets the eye? Push through here and it's a straight shot up to the brain."
A firm push, that grating feeling of steel on bone, and then there was no resistance until the point of the sword thunked into the back of the man's skull and he fell, taking Corvo's blade with him.
Groaning in pain, Alexi pried her fingers off of the dead man's sword, then pulled Corvo's blade out of his head.
The editor for the Courier looked shocked, but managed to pull himself together enough to thank her.
"Please, if there's anything I can do to help, let me know," he said.
Alexi paused for a moment.
"Anything you can print about how Delilah is a false empress would help. Emily Kaldwin is the rightful ruler of the isles," she said. "Don't get yourself killed though. Just try to sow a little bit of doubt."
"Of course, of course."
"Oh, and do you have any S&J? That bastard fucked up my hand something fierce." She gestured with her still-bleeding hand in emphasis.
After a minute's rooting through his desk, the editor pulled out a vial of elixir and handed it to her.
Alexi trudged back downstairs and sat in the armchair across from Emily, pulling the cap of the elixir out with her teeth. She poured a good third of the bottle into the wound, gritting her teeth as she felt bone set and flesh knit together. Grimacing, she took a long pull from the bottle.
The flavor reminded her of years ago, sitting on the roof drinking terrible Tyvian spirits with Emily. Corvo managed to find them every time, but his stern disapproval never stopped them from getting drunk again, the next time Emily found some horrible liquor to try.
Every time, Emily drank with a ferocity that only the very rich or the very stupid can muster, and most of the time Emily was a little bit of both. And every time, Alexi matched her, drink for drink, with the zeal that can only be attained by a hopeless woman desperately in love with someone she can't have.
"Oh Emily," she said. She sighed long and hard. "What are we going to do?"
Alexi took another pull of the elixir, which was finally starting to dull the pain in her hand. She remembered a Fugue Feast when they were teenagers, when Emily had dragged her away from her post to get drunk in the gardens with a bottle of terrible Gristolan apple brandy that was apparently "in" with all the noblewomen. It tasted nothing like the elixir she drank now except for that same burn, but the brandy hadn't been able to heal her heart when Emily started talking about this new noble scion. Wyman was all she could talk about for the longest time, but at least once the two of them started courting, Emily at least talked about Wyman less. Alexi knew that Wyman was a better match for Emily, politically, but she had laid next to Emily too many nights, consoling her about Wyman's latest indiscretion to actually believe it would be a good match.
Alexi took the final swig from the vial and forced herself out of the past. The past couldn't help them escape. They needed to leave Dunwall, as quickly as possible, and more critically, they couldn't stay in the apartment below the newspaper. Someone was bound to come through here, and Alexi did not want to be there when that happened.
She needed a plan, though.
The first order of business was a full inventory of everything she had on her. Corvo's blade, Delilah's knife, Emily's spyglass and signet ring. She wrapped the thin silk scarf Emily had given her around herself to hide her face. Two pistols, loaded. One of them was Emily’s personal pistol, the other a generic Watch issue. Seven extra bullets, compressed whale oil glowing in the base. A City Watch sword, which she discarded. The wristbow, six hardbolts and three sleep darts. Two vials of S&J's. A note. She didn't remember even having it until she unrolled it.
It was an audience request. A boat captain named Meagan Foster had important information she wanted to discuss with Corvo, and she was a friend of Sokolov’s. Her boat was being sent away, but she would try to delay as long as she could.
Well, that at least gave her a direction. She remembered briefly meeting Meagan the day before, the hardened captain of a small merchantman with one arm and one eye, but with more fire in that one eye than most people have in both. She didn't really know her, and she definitely didn't trust her, but if Sokolov trusted her enough to work together, it would have to be enough for Alexi. They needed a way out of Dunwall, and this was probably their best option, since the entire City Watch was hunting them.
She got up with a heavy sigh and walked over to Emily. She shook her gently, and called her name, but Emily was firmly unconscious. With a low groan, she hefted her empress over her shoulder once more, and started out the door.
She made it all of twenty yards before she was seen. She took off sprinting before the watchman knew what he had seen. Two Watch officers, one shouting and waving a bottle of whisky, looked up just in time to see her dash and the alarm was raised.
Alexi found more speed somewhere deep within, and pushed as hard as she could, driving her feet into the cobbles so hard she thought they might crack, ripping air into her lungs as she sprinted. She leapt and slid across a crate, barely keeping balance with the lopsided weight of the empress on her shoulder. She was past most of the watch between her and the docks, but there were two watchmen on the main pier.
Shots rang out, deafening her. She drew a pistol and blindly returned fire. Dropped it and drew the next. Fired, tucked it back into her belt. More gunshots. She slung Emily into a bridal carry, so that if she were shot, the bullets might stop before they hit her empress.
Her breathing ragged, she kept going. Even more of the Watch were noticing, and it was getting harder and harder to run with Emily in her arms. The road ended just up ahead, but she was going too fast to stop. She kicked off the wall, and pushed herself over the ledge to her left.
She landed hard. Her knees would be killing her if she managed to see tomorrow. She was on a sandy strip of shore with a short pier, and just beyond, the Dreadful Wale. Meagan's ship. She jogged out onto the pier, barely keeping balance on the slimy boards.
"Sorry Em," she said under her breath as she reached the end. She heaved her as far as she could into the water. Her arms free, she pulled off her boots and knotted them together by the laces as fast as she could. She couldn't afford to lose her boots. With the laces in her teeth, she leapt after her empress, nearly dropping her boots anyways from the shocking cold of the water.
And the shocking pain of a bullet hole filled with saltwater. She'd been hit in her mad dash down Kaldwin Boulevard and hadn't even noticed.
Biting back the pain as best she could, Alexi swam to Emily. She positioned herself under her, and cupped her hands under her jaw. Holding Emily's head above water, she started the much too slow crawl over to the ship she was gambling so much on.
Yelling on the boulevard. Watchmen leaping down, running onto the pier. They screamed and threw rocks and some of the officers fired their pistols, but fortunately they missed, and their aim only got worse as Alexi swam further away, and they got angrier.
By the time they thought to get into the rowboat along the pier, Alexi was already on the low side of the ship, pulling Emily up with her.
It is remarkably hard to climb a ladder with one hand, especially if that ladder is slick from sea, salt and wind. It is even harder to climb with an empress over one shoulder. Despite that, Alexi managed, and with a bullet hole through her side which had barely missed her kidney.
"Is that the empress?" A low voice said after she had spilled over the railing.
Alexi dragged herself to her feet.
"Meagan Foster?" She asked. She looked up and realized she needn't have asked, because the face staring at her couldn't be anyone else.
Meagan nodded, looked closer.
"You're the captain I spoke with," she said. "Mayhem?"
"Mayhew," Alexi said. She dusted herself off, then picked Emily up in the bridal carry she had used earlier. Blood trickled down her side.
"Can we cast off? Dunwall is not safe for her majesty at the moment."
Meagan nodded her understanding, then walked urgently around the ship, throwing lines into the water, cutting what she couldn't untie fast enough.
Alexi's vision swam, it was an effort to remain upright. She managed to stagger to where several crates were stacked against the bridge tower. As soon as she managed to place Emily, seated on a crate with her back to the steel wall, she collapsed.