#tbh i'm stretching it with fashav ever trusting regalla

[cicadaknight]

I'm in ruins thinking about Kotallo and Fashav spending 5 years growing to love each other. All for it to be ripped away by a comrade they trusted. RUINS.

After his solo assignment in Arrowhand, Kotallo takes Fashav to the inker for his first marks. He gives a rushed history of the difference in style and shape language between the clans. Fashav blushes when Kotallo traces his arm as he explains how far the marks will likely extend for his deeds.

Fashav always volunteers for assignments in the Desert Clan because he knows Kotallo is miserable in the heat. Kotallo swallows his pride. It's a small gesture, but it's kind. Besides, Fashav has more patience for Drakka's antics than he ever will.

The second anniversary of their Kulrut arrives too quickly. For Fashav, it's a memory tainted by losing hope of ever returning home. All he wants is a moment alone to reflect before joining the other Marshals feasting in the yard. As he reads over his glyphs, he hears a rustle behind him. Without turning to look, Fashav says, "Are you coming in or simply content watching me sweat?" Kotallo's leaning in the doorway, watching fondly as Fashav scribbles on parchment. He enters wordlessly, sits on the cot, and reveals a vessel from behind his back; Carjan wine he scavenged from an abandoned raider camp. He'd saved it, remembering the wistful way Fashav spoke of nights in Meridian with his cousins. It's pleasant and sweet. Kotallo would never admit it's better than Sky Clan spirits. But as the night goes on, the way it makes Fashav's laugh deep and unguarded is enough for him to check every raider camp he sweeps for another cask.

Kotallo's away settling a dispute in Salt Bite. When he arrives back at the Grove, Regalla's positively gloating about goading Fashav into the Valley of the Fallen trial. Kotallo is LIVID, but won't risk Fashav's honor by going after him. All he can do is wait and pray to the Ten that the days go by quickly and Fashav returns unscathed.

Regalla tries to smooth things over with Kotallo after the Valley of the Fallen incident. She's jovial and cocky, teasing him about his form as they spar together in the training pit. "You're sluggish today. It's the Carja, isn't it? What is it about that man that makes you lose your focus?" "Probably his shiny silks, they catch the light like a beacon," he jests. Fashav hasn't worn anything but Tenakth armor since the Kulrut, but it feels familiar to tease him. She laughs and he rolls his eyes. Regalla circles around him, spear trailing loose designs in the dirt. "He'll be fine, you know. Tell me, what is it really? Worried he'll trip over a root? Get stuck up a tree? Try to appease a Glinthawk with some of his eastern poetry?" In a flash she scores a hit to his shoulder, "I wouldn't worry too much. That sniveling worm would wriggle his way out of a Thunderjaw's maw. The Ten know nothing else will touch him. Well maybe not nothing?" Kotallo freezes and studies her face, hoping to see some regret in her eyes. How far will she take her jibes? She only smirks back, whirling for another attack. Before she can blink, he steps aside and swipes her feet out from under her, blunt end of his spear resting at her throat. Crouching next to her face, he hisses, "It's been 3 years, Galla. He has nothing left to prove to us. Nothing to prove to you, even in all your bitterness. Ease. The fuck. Up." He stands and tosses his spear to the ground. It's a grave insult to make another clean up your weapons, but he's furious. He feels her eyes scorching his back as he makes his way to the Grove. The ice will never thaw between them.

Bonus:

Kotallo learns to read so quickly with the Focus because Fashav taught him Carja glyphs. They would leave messages for each other in various settlements, in their rooms, in secret spots all over the Grove. The journals Aloy finds were meant for Kotallo.