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[korzni-a]

this blog has been revamped and moved to @korzni

[korzni-a]

nina

the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on her.  just a few months prior ,  she’d been scraping the bottom of the barrel with the proclaimed  bastard  of it ,  wanted and on the run.  she’d spent sleepless nights in a decrepit mausoleum like a common criminal ,  which ,  she supposed ,  she  was.  far away from the warmth and security of the little palace ,  far from the country that she loved.  that she’d longed to return to.  and now here she was ;  literally brushing elbows with the king of ravka ,  drinking her way towards oblivion.  none of it feels right ,  however.  not really.  like she’s a square peg being shoved into a round hole ,  it doesn’t fit  —   she  doesn’t fit  and  —

nina is reluctant to hand it back.  props herself up and takes a long swig of the bottle before finally relinquishing it.  then she once again finds solace against the soft of the mattress ,  her brown hair a wild mess that spreads across the blanket as she listens to his answer. 

‘  I used too. ’   it falls from her lips unbidden ,  no doubt a result of the wine.  her blunt nature.  and they reignite an old pain ,  like a knife being twisted in her chest.  she’s a ghost of her former self ,  warped and irrevocably changed by the  parem ,  her trauma ,  her loss.  it had all seemed bearable with him ,  when they’d been defying the odds and kicking van eck in the teeth.  now ??  she just feels …  hollow.  empty.  cold.   ‘  I dunno if there’s much to love anymore.  ’

nikolai’s brow creases into a small frown.     he opens his mouth as though to say something,     considers,     then closes it again.     nina is...     difficult.     

he didn’t know her before,     not really.     he knew of her;     a vibrant young woman,     a talented hartrender,     a valued soldier of the second army.     when she went missing,     when the fjerdans got her,     he was as sad as he would be about the death of any other ravkan who’d given their life for their country.     he didn’t know her personally.     he never met that girl.     now,     hearing the resignation in her voice as she talks about herself,     he wonders if he ever will. 

‘  so...     you think you’ve misplaced all the parts of yourself worth loving,  ’   he says eventually.     he exhales a short sigh and drums his fingers against the bottle.  ‘  you’ve been through a lot this past year.     it’s one thing to think you’re strong,     another thing entirely to think you’re so resilient that you can bounce back from any hardship.  ’   wordlessly,     he reaches up passes the wine over his head,     waving it around in the air and waiting for her to take it.     if they’re going to truly miserable,     he supposes the might as well also get truly drunk.  ‘  the only way out is through.  ’

[korzni-a]

to-do list for the rest of the day --

make u all weep do things on mags make sideblogs for selective muses mayb make my james main ???

[korzni-a]

zoya

the  apology  rattles  through  her  bones  like  a  hurricane,  taking  any  air  she  had  within  her  lungs  with  it.    for  a  moment,  it’s  the  only  sound  heard  within  the  carriage,  accompanied  only  by  zoya’s  hitched  breath  of  surprise.    it  was  expected  from  the  second  he  registered  what  had  almost  occurred  in  that  belltower,  but  still  she  was  unprepared  to  actually  hear  the  words.    “don’t,”    she  utters,  gaze  darting  from  countryside  to  him  like  lightning.    there  is  a  faint  shake  to  her  hands,  as  if  they  were  unsure  of  what  to  do  with  themselves,  though  zoya  blamed  the  pain  resonating  from  her  shoulder  and  not  the  leftover  adrenaline  of  fighting  against  an  uncontrollable  demon.    part  of  her  wanted  nothing  more  than  to  seek  comfort  amongst  their  normal  back - and - forth  —  but  that  felt  impossible  right  now,  considering  she  only  wanted  to  hide  herself  away  before  her  emotions  capsized.    “of  course  i  know  that,  nikolai.    if  you  wanted  to  hurt  me,  you  probably  would’ve  done  it  long  before  now.”    there  is  a  chill  to  her  tone,  icy  from  her  life  before  the  little  palace  that  now  demands  she,  and  only  she,  has  control  over  herself.    zoya  is  no  pawn,  nor  to  be  pawned.    “i’m  not  dead.”

‘   because we were lucky,  ’  he says flatly,     and had it not been for that stroke of good fortune,    he would have woken with the taste of her blood in his mouth.     the vision comes to him with such startling clarity that his stomach turns;     beautiful,     vibrant zoya,      sprawled out on the floor of the tower like a mangled plaything.     he can’t escape it,     can’t turn away.       he’s left with no choice but to close his eyes and wait for the feeling of sickness to subside,     hoping that the look on his face doesn’t betray the horror he feels when he he looks at her and sees what could have happened,      had he been just a second too late.     he drops his gaze,    but it’s no better.     looking at her trembling hands isn’t a comfort.     is she scared of him  ??    he certainly hopes not.     zoya could have fought him off,     had she really wanted to.     she could have beaten him.     the fact she didn’t suggests that she was faced with an ultimatum;    kill the king or let the king kill you.  ‘  next time,    don’t hesitate.  ’

[korzni-a]

alina

when mal and alina were children ,    they would climb to the highest point in the duke’s estate     (   a small closet like space meant to be a servant’s quarters that had all but been forgotten   )    to watch the occasional carriage carrying a noble arrive .    dukes and duchesses ,    lords and ladies ,    foreign diplomates graced the duke’s estate on matters both political and social .     once ,    the grand duke himself had even come to visit them ,    flanked by royal guards .    they had laughed at the gaudish apparel of each guest ,    the furs and textiles and jewels .   had sworn if they were ever to find themselves in such a place where they could afford such luxury ,    that they would instead spend the rubles on the pastries and candies they craved .

‘     if only mal could see me now ,      ’        alina thought ,     turning this way and that in the full length mirrors before her .    the dress she wore ,     a mix of traditional qing dynasty embroidery with a modern silhouette ,     cost more than all of the pastries and treats her former self could have dreamed of .     and the shoes were ridiculously high .    it was going to be impossible for her to get halfway across dressing room ,     let alone through an entire evening of dancing and diplomatic conversations without breaking her ankles .       she turned ,     gaze settling on the prince who lounged upon a red velvet chaise ,    his eyes clearly amused by the sight before him .         “      i feel like a stuffed курица ,      “       she huffed ,    clearly uncomfortable in the thing ,          “         though ,       why do i get the feeling you’re not talking about my shoes .         “

‘     if the shoe fits, walk in it ‘til your high heels break .     ’        ━━      @korzni .

‘  well,     you’re the prettiest stuffed курица i’ve ever seen,  ’  nikolai teases,     regarding her with an expression of not unkind amusement from his perch atop the chaise.     he takes a sip of his scotch then sets it aside,     rising up to stand.  ‘  maybe second prettiest.  ’  

it’s important that alina start attending social events;     that she’s seen standing around and looking nice,     saying the right things to the right people and quietly but firmly asserting her right to the throne.      he,      better than most,     understands the value of forming connections with the other nobles.     how many times has he simpered over some prim,     disapproving duchess in the sole interest of ensuring that all her friends will hear about the charming prince nikolai?      how many hands has he kissed?    it doesn't change the fact that forcing the poor girl to attend a ball in her week or so is a baptism of fire.      while the shoe comment was a double entendre in some ways,     the more obvious meaning stands.     he suspects he may well be peeling her off the ballroom floor before the night is out,     but whether she’ll have broken an ankle or been steamrolled over by an assortment of disparaging comments remains to be seen.

‘  you’re right,  ’  he says,     resting a hand on each of her shoulders and gently pulling them back,     forcing her posture into one of upright,     unwavering confidence.  ‘  i’m not talking about the shoes,     lovely as they are.     word has it the queen of denmark will be here tonight.    i swear that woman can smell fear.  ’      

[korzni-a]

'  do you love yourself?  ’ /  @stardustvein​

it’s a big question for a man who’s seeing doubles of his own hand.     nikolai turns his wrist,     studying the way the light glints off the rings on his ten fingers,     then closes his eyes and drops his arm to drape it across his face.      do you love yourself.     he huffs a laugh,      making a grabby gesture above his head and waiting for the bottle to be pressed against his palm before makes any real effort to answer. 

‘  yeah,  ’  he says,    hoisting his upper body upright enough that he can take a lengthy swig from the bottle before flopping back down again and resting it against sternum.  ‘  yes,     i suppose i do.  ’  there are parts of himself that he doesn’t like,     obviously.     there are things he wishes he’d done differently,     but he knows countless people who’ve done far worse things and for far worse reasons.    as for the small mater of the monster...      well.     it both is and isn’t him.     their souls are intertwined,     if it has a soul at all,     but he does not share its thirst for blood and pain and violence.     it’s like...     a parasite;     a dark mirror to his sins.     it is him,    he is it,      but they are not the same.     they cannot be the same. 

he knows he’s a good man;     a good king.     if he didn’t,     if he thought he were a bad person,     not worth the love or adoration of his friends or his people,     then there would be no point.   

‘  do you ?? ’

[korzni-a]

listen I would die for nikolai and I absolutely love you and your portrayal of him

LISTEN i love ur aelin sm i would give her the world and ur such a fantastic writer and so fAST ??? like how do u come up with such good shit so quickly i am amazeD 

[korzni-a]

your portrayal?? flawless, amazing, breathtakingly beautiful. like seriously, it's feat to try and capture nikolai and his whit and his inward emotions and you do such a good job!

i know i asked for this but i wasn’t ready, ur such an AMAZING alina and ur writing is wonderful and our threads are ??? chefs kiss and i can’t wait to keep writing with u ur beautiful and great thnks

[korzni-a]

beep beep ! I've followed you for approximately 1 ( one ) day and just like holy shit I love your blog.

when will i not cry over nice messages ??? idk but not today, aiuhdushd tHANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE UR BLOG this is so sweet i’m 

[korzni-a]

JESS you've really captured nikolai's tone, from his speech to describing his body language!!! i am truly drawn to everything you write, whether it concerns me or not, and i am frankly honoured when it does because you've really brought out a side of my own writing i had no idea about. you're breaking my heart with every reply, even though i know we're both #teamzoyalai kshdjs i love you!!!

BYE FLORA BEST EVER this is such a cute message, our threads are rlly painful and amazing already like how ??? it’s been a DAY and i’m so invested in lit everything we’ve done and ur amazing and i love u more mwah

[korzni-a]

beep beep how’s my portrayal ?

[korzni-a]

zoya

stay,  he  says.    stay,  he  begs.    stay,  her  heart  cries.    she  is  the  lovelorn  woman  seen  in  romance  novels,  caught  in  a  downpour,  waiting  for  her  king  to  finally  say  what  she  is  desperate  to  hear,  even  if  she  may  never  confess  to  such  a  thing.    so  she  does,  finally  turning  to  face  nikolai  again.    he  is  not  the  monster  you  fear,  she  mentally  reminds  herself,  chin  tilting  up  as  she  holds  herself  strong  and  steady  like  his  pirating  ship  sailing  upon  rough  waters  —  and  for  a  moment,  she  is  fine.    but  as  her  gaze  settles  upon  him,  she  finds  her  defenses  washing  away  at  the  sight  of  his  self-hatred.    he  was  not  born  to  control  powers  beyond  man,  unlike  her,  and  the  inner  conflict  between  man  and  demon  was  clearly  still  raging.    knowing  he  merely  seeked  comfort,  she  goes  to  speak  but  finds  no  words  come  to  fruition,  and  her  anger  at  her  own  incompetence  crashes  against  her.    so  she  settles  for  silence,  and  gentle  blues  meet  anguished  hazels,  saying  words  she  cannot  summon  as  easy  as  storms.

it’s a long time before the silence breaks again.     they sit opposite one-another in the carriage,     nikolai with an untorn,     cotton shirt flung on over his otherwise bare chest,     zoya newly healed by tolya’s less-than-gentle touch.     the countryside passes by them outside,     faintly illuminated in the light of the early-morning sun.  ‘  i’m sorry,  ’  he says eventually.     his voice is quiet,     his gaze even.     it’s not at all like when he came back to find his teeth poised at her throat,     skittering back across the floor of the tower like a frightened animal.     he looks to her hands but does not reach for them,     keeping his own so firmly balled into fists in his lap that he swears he feels the skin break beneath his ragged fingernails.   ‘  i wouldn’t ever...   i don’t want to hurt you.     i hope you know that.  ’

[korzni-a]

alina

“        you don’t believe you would all be better off without me?         “    the words are meant to be a joke ,    but they come out wrong .      all twisted and jagged and terribly sad .     alina had thought about it .        giving in to the darkling .     it wouldn’t be a hard choice to make ,     in fact ,      it was the easiest out of every single option the saints had given her .         [     ALMOST AS EASY AS BEGGING MAL TO DRIVE A DAGGER THROUGH MY HEART .    ]           his shoulder pressing to her’s ,    if only for a moment ,     brought her back to herself and she let out a shaky laugh .      why must she always be so morbid?       why could she not find it in herself to find peace here?          “           …   thank you ,    again .      for harboring me and mal .      i don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t helped us when you did .       “          

‘  i suspect we would all be in big,     big trouble,  ’  he says,     grinning to himself when he sees her shoulders shake with laughter,    however fleeting or uncertain that moment of exultation might be.     she’s so young.     she seems older,     for all the horrors she’s seen,     but a girl her age should have more reasons to smile.  ‘  nobody would be better off,  ’  he says decisively.  ‘  and not just for the obvious reasons.  ’  he gestures to the collar at her neck and casts his mind,     briefly,     to the memory of the darkling at the bough of the ship,    shrouded in a cloak of living,    writhing shadows.  ‘  you’re more fondly thought of than you give yourself credit for.  ’

[korzni-a]

zoya

@korzni·  &  ♡

after  spending  time  with  their  newest  problem,  a  monster  reincarnated  in  his  disciple,  she  seeks  comfort.    breezing  through  the  little  palace  without  a  second  thought,  zoya  finds  herself  pushing  open  the  door  to  nikolai’s  chambers  and  silently  joining  him  besides  the  roaring  fire  that  warmed  the  room.    this  was  becoming  a  habit,  an  escape  from  anything  related  to  the  darkling  —  when  the  darkness  slowly  crowds  her  each  night,  she  finds  herself  regretting  claiming  his  chambers.    wanting  to  think  of  anything  other  than  him,  zoya  finds  her  gaze  drifting  over  the  king  who  was  clearly  deep  in  thought  ;    noting  how  the  fire  shines  in  his  hazel  eyes,  lights  him  up  with  the  warmth  she  knows  he  possesses,  but  fails  to  notice  how  her  own  features  had  softened  whilst  doing  so.    “nikolai,”    she  finally  breaks  the  amicable  silence,  though  she’s  as  quiet  as  the  water’s  gentle  waves.    “you’re  unusually  quiet.”

he doesn’t flinch or turn when the door to his chambers open.     he’s not sure what that says about his present frame of mind;     the greatest evil in history walks the earth again in sandals,     and he doesn’t even have the sense to try to defend himself when someone enters unannounced.      he tells himself it’s because he knows it’s zoya,     but the reality is that he has no firm idea until she settles at his side.  

‘  hm?  ’  he stares into the fire a moment longer before he turns,     looking into her eyes instead.     her gaze is always fierce,    somehow,     like blue lightning or a storm at sea.     he’d love to know when he became such a firmly lovestruck idiot and if it’s possible to travel back in time and smack himself upside the head for it.  ‘  and you’re complaining?     perhaps i should call in the healers,     one for each of us.  ’  

[korzni-a]

aelin 

“ be my guest, “ _and make the trip down here to free you a total waste. _ broken chains hit the floor with a way too loud clatter, and the blonde winks at the king, “ though if you want to keep your head, i’d keep the talking to a minimum. “

she angles her head to the door, finger going to her mouth. quiet. the sword is ready at her side, hanging in her other hand - ready to bury in whoever her magic couldn’t reach. “ don’t be a hero. “ he was outmatched. sorely. hopefully he knew that. and it’s with a flash of fanged canines that she adds, “ if you can be useful - do it, but don’t put yourself in danger. “

and then she heads down the hall.

'  don’t worry,  ’  he says,     rubbing at each of his wrists in turn as the remnants of his chains hit the floor.     he steps over them,     carefully,     and flexes his shoulders in preparation.  ‘  i’m not feeling especially heroic right now.  ’  in fact,     if aelin were to scoop him up in her arms and carry him out like a damsel in distress,     he wouldn’t say no.

she doesn’t,     so nikolai is forced to quickly make peace with the aching pains in his legs as he follows after her down the hall and into the thick of whatever hell is surely about to break loose.

[korzni-a]

zoya

she  doesn’t  want  to  wait.    but  the  raging  storm  of  panic  within  her  begins  to  settle  as  she  hears  his  voice  —  nikolai’s  voice,  this  time.    soft  despite  cracking,  unlike  the  monster’s  ravenous  snarls,  or  the  true  monster’s  voice  that  had  surprised  her  to  distract  her.    it  wouldn’t  happen  again,  she  promised  her  heart,  that  man  would  not  toy  with  her  anymore.    flurry  of  navy  kefta  and  icy  fur  stills,  though  she  faces  away  from  him,  gaze  fixated  on  the  dark  horizon…    oh,  how  she  hated  the  darkness  now.    she  wants  to  be  here  for  nikolai,  to  support  him  in  her  own  way  —  like  a  sailor  battling  a  tempest;    zoya  is  scared,  but  she  clamps  that  fear  within  her  shaking  fists  and  fights  against  it.    she  will  not  let  that  monster  win.    “what?”

‘  stay,  ’  it’s so unlike nikolai to speak without thinking that he surprises even himself,     his blood running cold with the realisation that he has crossed some line in the sand and cannot take it back.     his life is a series of half-truths and double-meanings.     were in his right mind,     he’d have made some glib remark and resigned himself to the pain of fretting over zoya in the privacy of his bedchambers,     chained up like the monster he's surely becoming.     as it is,     he keeps his gaze trained on her and his mouth shut,     silently pleading to whatever saints may be listening that she will look at him with something other than fear or contempt in those beautiful blue eyes. 

[korzni-a]

alina

shades of gold and blue and white surround her .    an endless ocean ,   the expanse of it all encompassing .    it is a freedom she has never tasted before ,    the knowledge that the world could be so wide .    its settles in her bones ,    the salt and air and sea .     she can go anywhere ,    be anyone .    hadn’t he promised her that?      but how long ,      how long would this new found freedom last .     as long as the darkling had breath ,   he would come for her .    she would never truly be free .     instinctively ,    her fingers brush against the collar around her neck ,    the amplifier singing at her touch .    the scales adorning her wrists echo the vibrations ,    a two part harmony .           “         there has to be a way to outrun him .        “          her voice soft ,    loses itself in the wind and yet she knows he can hear her .          “          even if it means throwing myself off the edge of the world ,      i will not go back .       “  

‘      you can run, but only so far .      ’         ———        @korzni .

he glances sidelong at her,      arms braced against the side of the ship.      the water beats a steady rhythm against the hull as they glide through the curtain of curling,     ocean mist.      the sea is calm,      but the same cannot be said for him;     not for the itching of his palms,     nor the feeling of misplaced guilt that has crept up on him these past few days.      just because he is a talented liar,      does not mean he is a happy one.  ‘  the edge of the world,     huh?     a world of good that would do us,  ’  he says,     giving her a gentle nudge with his shoulder.  ‘  but no.      you won’t go back.      not if anyone aboard this ship can help it.  ’  not if i can help it.      against his better judgement,      he’s come to rather like the so-called sun summoner.     sentimentality is by far the worst of his otherwise stellar qualities.