#Grisha comfy in their bulletproof kefta

[stromuprisahat]

This post got me thinking- if solar eclipse makes animals assume it's sleepy-time, do Aleksander's shadows work the same way?

Are his attacks accompanied by sudden silence? Do birds and insects quiet, but horse and dogs frighten, neighing and whining in reaction to their masters' unease?

Did he ever use his shadows to confuse whole chunk of forest, making it easier to sneak near the unassuming prey, because there's no need of precision like blinding them would require, if they're asleep?

I want to know the impact of his powers on wildlife!

[ignyxdaughter]

𝐈𝐈 — 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

(𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 /𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐤𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐳𝐨𝐯𝐚 𝐱 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧)

MASTERLIST

READ ON WATTPAD

summary: Agatha struggles to feel comfortable on the Little Palace and learn about witches with Angelina. Her first class with the Grishas doesn’t go as planned.

word count: 2800

warnings: none

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Angelina Belova went with Agatha to take her measures to make the kefta, the long coat Grishas use. The Healer explained that they are not only warm and ajustes to endure their powers, but also bulletproof. The later got Agatha by surprised, which make Angeline laugh of her face.

She received a tour of the Little Palace too, getting to know the patio, the training area, the gardens, the kitchen, the infirmary and even the “fun rooms”, where some Grishas tend to rest. The Healer explained that the Grand Palace was where otkazat’sya — humans — dwell, while the Little Palace is where the Grishas reside, though all the servants there are otkazat’sya.

After relaxing for the entire day, Agatha closed her eyes in an attemp to release at least a memory. She received her own chambers, one with a comfy bed, a wardrobe, a vanity and a study desk. It was more than she could’ve asked, especially because it’s warm, protecting her from Ravka’s cold air, and it has a washroom too. However, the woman was still uncomfortable, desperate for not remembering her own life and nervous for being in such a new and odd place — which she still thought it was some kind of cult.

A sudden knock on the door takes her off from her reveries. Sighing, Agatha goes to answer it, just to find Angelina with full hands; a plate of food on one and a huge book on another. The Healer would say something if she hadn’t look at Agatha’s dark brown irises, staying lost on them. Although they send her a calm and peaceful wave, they seem to radiate Agatha’s emotions. It was like Angelina could read it all just by looking at the woman’s eyes.

Grief. Uneasiness. Agony.

Angelina gulps before having the courage to break the silence, but still looking at the girl’s eyes. “Did I— Did I wake you?”

“Oh!” Agatha blinks in realisation the Grisha was talking to her. “No. No, I was just… awake.”

Really, Agatha? She scolds herself. You were just awake?

The Healer chuckles. “That’s good. But I rather you get some rest than an insomnia. After all, you’re still in shock.”

“Yeah”, she sadly sighs, remembering her own frustration “I guess so.”

“I brought you dinner”, Angelina raises the plate in one of her hands and Agatha gets it. Grilled fish, pasta and some vegetables — they seemed good, and the smell was appealing. “I don’t know what you like, so I got a little bit of everything.”

“Thank you”, she makes a pause. “Come in.”

The Grisha closes the door after she enters the room, gripping the book tightly to avoid her nervousness. In some way, she feels shy towards the newcomer, something that she usually isn’t. However, if she pass some time with her, maybe this shyness will go away.

“I brought this book too”, she finally says, the air in her lungs reducing a little when Agatha turns around with a frown. “Is a… instructive book.”

“Instructive book?”

“Yeah, for our world. You can learn the species here. I thought this would be a good introduction for you.”

“Ok”, Agatha sits on the bed with the plate on her lap, eating a pea.

Angelina sits by her side, opening the book for her to see it. “First of all, you need to know what we are. Grishas.”

That didn’t sound true in Agatha’s heart and soul, it felt like something was wrong and odd with the mention that she was a Grisha. But she decided to ignore it.

After reading for a while and listening to Angelina’s explanations about the Grishas, something in the book caught Agatha’s eyes.

WITCHES

Creatures with intense merzost, with the ability to cast spells and naturally control an element of nature. The later, the reason why they usually are mistaken for Grishas. The difference is that, while Grishas move and alter a body, manipulating its particles to do Small Science, an extension of nature, witches use merzost by casting spells and totally controlling the element they were born with. A simple example of this can be seen in an Inferni, who summon gases to creat a flame though still need a flint tied to their legs to start a spark, and a fire singer, who can summon and control the fire without any oxidizer agent — a flame of a fire singer can burn a body to ashes in seconds. Moreover, it is said that witches are immune towards their power’s consequences.

The name singer is a term that goes after their natural element. It means to listen and respect your power. Although is a popular theory that witches can hear voices in their element when they summon it, it had not been proved yet. This theory was made after an air singer witch went to a battlefield among other Grishas and stopped marching when a wind was blown on the army. A writer, who was watching the scene with amuse, wrote that her eyes went wide and she immediately screamed for the army to back off, stating they were going straight to a trap. Even with complaints, the Grishas backed off to the camp. The next morning, they received news that some villagers were killed after entering the place they were supposed to go the other night. After several questions of how the air singer knew about the trap, she just answered: “I just heard the song of the wind, singed by the Ancestors”.

They don't age and, although powerful, they don't heal quickly and can be killed like any otkazat’sya. It is unknown their religion and beliefs. The only thing some assume is that they value their ancestors.

Merzost (magic). Powerful. Immune towards consequences. Spells. Air singer. Ancestors.

For some reason, those specific words echo in Agatha’s mind. They seem familiar, conected to somethig in her life. Maybe she should study more about witches, since her body was relaxed all time while she read the page.

“I’ve never seen one”, Angelina’s voice makes Agatha look at her. “Does it feel familiar? You’re in this page for long a time.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. After all, it can someway be related to you. If you remember of a witch, tell me. They’re so interesting and I’d like to meet one of them.”

Agatha chuckles. “I’ll make sure to introduce you to one, then.”

Even if I don’t know one, she shakes her head to pull the thought away; she has to know a witch to feel such connection.

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Agatha finds herself in a cemetery. Is still day, however, this doesn't calm her nerves down; the feeling of knowing this place is actually what frightens her more. Why would she finds nostalgia in somewhere so lifeless and void as a graveyard? She begins to walk, without knowing where her feet are leading her to, and observes every corner of the place.

She stops in front of a sepulcher where the carved name on the stone clenches her heart. It feels like Agatha knows this name and this tomb; she's not afraid of its dangers. The woman shivers for not remembering anything, again mourning her memories, yet just the familiar sensation of the place sends her body a calming wave.

Mikaelson.

That’s the name on the sepulcher.

“I’m sensing you.” A voice inside it makes Agatha jump. She looks at her sides to see if there was anyone besides her. “Get here now, Agatha! I’m busy and don’t have time for games.”

Her eyes go wide as she enters the tomb and sees bowls with balsam and bottles of strange colorful liquids scattered on the stone bench along with herbs and flower petals, something’s clearly boiling inside the small cauldron placed near a desk with books. This seems weirder than the Grishas she met today, however, it feels normal. Is this somehow connected to herself?

“Well…”, a woman gets out of a room in the tomb, cleaning her hands “What do you want?”

Agatha looks at her. She’s incredibly pale and thin, tall but with small curves. Her dark brown hair is tied up in a ponytail and her eyes are light green — yet they bring no comfort as she stares at the brown skinned girl.

“You seem distracted”, the woman says in such calmness that it almost reminds Agatha of the Darkling.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You stuttered”, she hums. “You never do that.”

Agatha frowns. “Do I know you?”

But before the woman can answer, she’s gone, and so is the tomb. Agatha sees herself now in a river, where a redhead is painting a blonde woman sunbathing on a huge stone. They both seem more sympathetic than the brunette she’d just met.

“Raise your chin”, the auburn girl says.

The blonde is clearly bored but does as she’s told. “You better nail in this painting.”

“You were the one to ask for it. I’m only fulfilling your wish.”

“Yes, but this sun’s burning me! I’m going to get all red!”

The artist laughs. “At least you’re going to get some color and tease Kat about it.”

The model smirks. “Well played, cousin. Well played.”

Agatha opens her mouth to greet the women, but in a blink of eyes is somewhere else again. This time she sees herself in the woods, the smell of the morning dew filling the air along its moisture. Suddenly, a smell of grilled meat hints her nostrills, making her stomach turn in hunger and her mouth salivate. Agatha follows the delicious smell and comes face to face to two men. A brunette is eating a piece of ribs like his life depended on it, savoring every bite, and the other snaps at Agatha the moment she arrives.

This takes her breath away, not due to being seen, but because he’s extremely similar to her. Tall and strong, with well-shaped muscles, light brown skin with really bright teeth, shaved black hair and almond dark brown eyes that penetrate your soul just with its glance.

“Sis?” He asks, and Agatha’s heart clenches. “Where are you?”

The man beside him looks at her after hearing his friend. His eyes are a light brown, matching his hair color, and albeit tall and strong, he’s less than the other man. “You’re here. Finally!”

“I—”

“We hunted. Want one?” He extends her a piece of meat.

She looks at the food before at the boys again, seeing an expecting glance in both of them. They feel so familiar, and if the man that called her sister, they really can be related, right? She prays for them to be part of her life and for her to be finally remembering something. Giving them a smile, thus, Agatha approaches the men and…

She wakes up with the sound of someone knocking on the door. Quickly, she answers it just to find a woman with a blue kefta with red embroideries. Inferni; fire Grishas. That’s what Angelina explained her yesterday afternoon.

“Hi”, the Grisha greets her. “Gelya asked me to help you this morning. She’s with a patient.”

“O… Okay?”

“I’m Masha. You’re Agatha, right?” She nods. “Squaller?”

“Yeah, I think.”

She smiles. “Your keftas’re here”, she enters the room without hesitation. “This one”, she places a long one, that almost look like a gown “is for events on the Grand Palace, while this one”, she hands Agatha a shorter kefta, which has the size of the one that’s on her own body “is for day to day; Little Palace activities.”

“Okay. Should I try both?”

“Of course! The dressmakers need to make sure it fits to make others. I mean, you’re not going to have just one kefta of each model. That’s gross!”

Agatha chuckles. “Why?”

“We train every day for hours. No one get clean after that, so you’d be like a pig if you just have one piece of clothing.”

She couldn’t hold back her smile at the Inferni’s sense of humor. The newcomer did as she was told and wore the two keftas, that were ravishing on her, suiting her body perfectly. However, although looking good, Agatha couldn’t feel as herself. It just didn’t match her person; she could feel that in her heart. It wasn’t the blue color or its beautiful silver embroideries, but the kefta itself. She wearing these clothes seemed so wrong for Agatha. However, she tried to ignore, since she didn’t know who she was yet. When she remembers, she’ll make a conclusion about everything on her life.

Even now, as Agatha was introduced to other Squaller and was — surprisingly— welcomed, the feeling of wrongness didn’t go away. The oatmeal was good, but not the best thing she’d ever had, and albeit with good people around her, she seemed so dislocated and lost.

“You’re gonna train with us”, Mikhail, a friendly Squaller that sat by her side, says to her. “Come.”

She nods with a forced smile, chills already running though her body to have to show everyone what she’s capable of. Imagine being judged for struggling to summon a strong wind or for not being able to handle the air for too long or hurt someone. Everything can go wrong and this is just her first real day here!

“I know you’re nervous, but it’s normal. First we’re gonna fight, like otkazat’sya. Then, we’re gonna train our powers.”

They go to the training area then, a flat and large place with more than enough space to fight and don’t destroy anything with your powers. Other advantage it’s that the sunlight is not strong and don’t blind anyone due to its brightness. Indeed, the perfect training area.

Infernis, Squallers and Tidemakers are all reunited for the training, and a lot of them do not even look at Agatha; she’s just a newcomer, nothing unusual or special. The woman stays with Mikhail, since he offers it and says that usually the Infernis pair up with each other and the Squallers often try to be with the strongest ones — no matter their powers — to prove themselves.

They pair up and start by testing each other reflexes. Mikhail was good and started low with Agatha, however, as she quickly deviated from all of his blows, he started to truly fight her. Some Grishas even stopped their own fighting to see the newcomer making one of Botkin’s best students struggle. For everyone’s surprise, Agatha had an incredible stamina and velocity. She wasn’t even sweating!

Soon, the woman managed to punch Mikhail so hard that he fell on the ground with widened eyes. Agatha immediately put her hands on her mouth with a gasp, shocked by what she had done and how was that even possible. She didn’t mean it to do it strongly, after all, she was just following her intuition — that is pretty good.

“Enough”, Botkin, the Little Palace’s combat instructor, says. Agatha freezes with a shiver on her spine.

“Wonderful”, she whispers to herself with a sigh. Going to be punished on your first day, Agatha.

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“Agatha. I don’t remember my last name nor middle name.” She adds as he lifts his brows in disbelief.

“You don’t remember?”

“Yes. I’m suffering from memory lost about my own life.”

“Mind memory loss, Ms. Agatha, because your muscle memory is amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“Do not thank me, Ms. Agatha. If it wasn’t amazing, Botkin would say nothing.” He circles her like a vulture waiting for a dead body and stops in front of her. “Now what about your powers? Do you have a muscle memory for them too?”

“I don’t know.”

“Try it.”

Agatha gulps and closes her eyes with a deep breath. As if it was by itself, her hands start to move, doing what it feels right. She raises her hands, both of them with only three fingers lifted — the middle, the index and the thumb —, bringing the right one close to her chest and quickly throwing the left one to her front. A strong gust of wind from behind her responds the movement immediately, making the leafs from the trees and some of the Second Army flags fly away.

Agatha opens her eyes proud of herself, since the wind was quite pleasant for her, and looks at the other Grishas in search of approval, however, they are all dumbfounded. Some look at her with widened eyes and others even have their jaws dropped. Even Botkin is silenced, his gaze glued on her as she turns to him.

She doesn’t understand their reaction. Did she make something wrong?

“This was… impressive”, the combat instructor says in astonishment.

Agatha opens her mouth to ask more questions, but his next sentence makes her stay still in nervousness.

“But this wasn’t a Grisha movement. Botkin would know if it was one, Ms. Agatha.”

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A/N: English is not my first language. I’m gonna mix the books and the tv show to make the story line clearer (I read soc, the grisha trilogy and its tales). I don’t own Shadow and Bone and TO/Legacies characters; they’re, respectively, Leigh Bardugo, L. J. Smith and Julie Plec. Also, this is how I think the Darkling is,and some of the events will be changed due to the story's course!