#I promise it’s a privateer see be proud Nikolai | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

laurore-stormwitch · 4 years ago

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The time Zoya saves Nikolai in the Fold. The time Nikolai asks her to be his general. And the times when they had win their battles and they can tell each other of those times.

This is dedicated to @tricewithaz because she specifically requested it and we came up with some nice hc. It’s so fun to explore how they met and how their relationship was built. the times we made a choice - ao3

word count: 10.417

“Do you plan on keeping some order on this desk or do I have to incinerate your work with a gust of fire?”, Zoya grunted, eyeing the absolute mess he had left after working in her sitting room all evening as he waited for her to come back from a private state dinner. She slumped beside him, huffing a tired breath and shutting her eyes. Nikolai closed the novel he had stolen from her nightstand, turning to her with a grin.

“I’m very glad to have your goodnight spite reserved for me, Nazyalensky.”

She turned to him, eyelids fluttering open, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in a smile. A wave of aching affection washed over him at the sight of her. His darkened fingers disappeared in her silky hair, skimming on the skin of her neck. A shiver went through her.

Nazyalensky. The habit of using her name like this had turned from provoking her to scowl to getting himself an annoyed but affectionate look. It possessed a different power, now that he knew it was an identity she had chosen for herself so long ago. Nikolai had waited to see if she would desire to change it, but he had the sense she was attached to it. It was hers, it was the promise of a new life she had made to a little girl long ago, and this made her feel conflicted. She was slowly embracing the parts of her past that could finally complete her, wandering through what she had missed in denying a part of herself; yet, some ghosts were more haunting than others.

“Do you remember the first time I called you that?”, Nikolai asked, if only for the sake of distracting her from another tiresome and tedious day of meetings. Zoya peered at him under her lashes. That was the look she wore when she was pondering whether to indulge his nonsense or just let him ramble her into sleep, with the engulfing solace of his voice frantically telling her about his new invention of the moment or the last thing they made explode at the Fabrikator’s lab. Her hand came to adjust his collar in an unconscious gesture.

“I’m not sure”, she admitted. He traced the soft curve of her lips with his thumb, smirking.

“It was when you saved me. I mean, the first of the many times you did that.”

Zoya looked dubious. “Was it though?”

“You remember something else?”

He was positively sure. When it came to Zoya, his memory rarely failed him. Still, a part of him did want to hear what she remembered. Zoya being willing to talk was a treasured rare occurrence.

“I think it’s when you made me your General”, Zoya asserted, cushioning her head on his forearm.

***

He was flying, and then he was falling.

When the blade went through the Darkling heart and his blood soaked the Fold’s barren sands, Nikolai’s wings disappeared in an inconsistent smoke.

He was fighting, and then he was surrendering.

The world started drowning in darkness, the shadows curling around its outlines and growing like a monstrous tide that devoured every living being on its path. He remembered the clouded sky, the shrieks of the volcras, the stink of fire and gunpowder. If that was how the bastard prince’s fight was going to end, his mind thanked the Saints for giving him that one last moment as himself. The demon retracted, leaving Nikolai on his own as he dove toward his demise. Yet, it would be fine. They would win. And Nikolai would never see what could become of his country.

He was dying. And then, without warning, he was floating.

Or sort of. A sudden gust of wind slammed on his back, slowing his helpless fall on the ground. The prince had only a split moment of consciousness to be glad before crashing onto earth, the blow hard enough that he heard the sound of his ribs cracking, of the air forcefully snatched out his lungs. The world went dark.

He was breathing. A strike of ravaging pain splitted his chest in two. He thought he had opened his eyes, but his vision was blurred as he forced his eyelids not to fall shut. Inhaling felt like a burning flame scorching his throat. He wanted to move, to get up, to take his weapon and resume the fight. He wanted to rest. He wanted.

��Try and be still”, a distant voice murmured beside him.

His vision sharpened, bolts of pain running through his battered body. Nikolai did not know how long he had passed out, if it was hours or mere seconds. Was he seeing the sea again? Was he coming back to the restless waters he loved with woeful neediness? For a brief moment, there was peace. He was home.

Then, another breath tore his lungs, the searing ache canceling the blur. It wasn’t the sea; he found himself lost in a pair of impossible blue eyes, deep and dark as the oceans he had sailed with his wolf of the waves. He grasped at them.

“Don’t move'', the voice whispered, shuddering.

A girl, with raven-black hair and blood smeared on her cheek. Her fingers tightened around his wrist, checking his pulse, while she held the back of his neck with the other arm. Her hold was firm, comforting; yet, Nikolai felt a tremor coming from her, her tone desperate. He knew her, something inside him told him as his consciousness slowly slid back into place. He knew her; he remembered her laugh, in the brief excitement David’s dishes for Alina had brought them before being shattered by the nichevo’ya. He knew her from dimly lit hallways made of rock under a mountain, where they had thought they could hide from the monsters lurking in the shadows. His lashes blinked away the mist and he gripped her arm, steadying himself; the girl startled, shifting her gaze and locking those unearthly eyes back on his again. Were his still black? Was he still the demon, or was he himself again? Another remembrance rushed as his mind finally cleared of the last strands of darkness, restoring all his awareness, all of himself. The squaller, the stubborn one, with that insanely acid tongue. Zoya. The grip on her arm grew stronger, he wanted to part his lips, to speak. He wanted.

“Damn, stop moving. I need to make sure I saved you. No way I’m letting Ravka’s only hope die on me, are we clear?”

Anguish cut through the edge of her tone, cracking it. Zoya, the proud one. The one he had overheard standing up for the Etherealki in the face of every disdain she had earned from them. Zoya, who had fought her way through their reckless warfare strategies with the grace and precision of a hawk diving for a prey. With the snarky words she had sent his way whenever they had crossed paths, her piercing gaze studying everyone around her, always surprising him with a biting response. Zoya Nazyalensky, the impossibly beautiful and equally mysterious summoner who all the other Grisha gossiped about. Kneeling on the dirt beside him right now with an endless well in her sight, full of sorrow and terror. It was the aftermath of the battle, probably. Probably.

Zoya the soldier. Alina’s soldier, Ravka’s soldier, the king’s soldier. His soldier, now.

“Nazyalensky”, he rasped out, mustering all the strength he could find. Relief flooded her face, making her lips quiver. Not too gently, she shook his hand from her arm, her look hardening. Nikolai felt the horrifying moist consistency of blood on his hands; he could not dwell on where it was coming from, either his own wounds, the ones of the girl beside him, or the ones coming from the lives he had snatched with his infernal claws.

“Good. The blow on your head did not shatter your brain.”

Cutting as a blade. As she scanned the ground around, he found her havoc-raging presence weirdly heartening. Nikolai was only dimly aware of the mayhem still breaking out. There was a muffled quiet around them; he realized that it was probably Zoya’s doing, hushing the sounds in the air. An unforgiving wind flowed, kicking up the grey sand; it seemed to reverberate directly from Zoya’s trembling body. The squaller ran a hand through her hair and her face, shoving dirt and red streams on her skin. She was shaken. It would take her a few more battles to get used to this. Maybe she never would. If he wasn’t lying half dead on the ground, he would have felt tempted to reach for her, to comfort her. The wind rose as she swore out, spreading her black mane around her, still frantically searching for help with her gaze. Saints, Nikolai thought, this girl is powerful. She snapped at him.

“For Saints sake are you capable of staying still? I have to fetch you a Healer”, Zoya barked.

Nikolai tried to get himself up, ignoring the excruciating ache in his chest, steadying himself on her shoulder with his right arm. “This would be a perfect moment to indulge in regicide”, he tried, another burst of pain running through him and causing him to cough violently.

“I might consider it if you don’t stop moving”, she murmured in response, scanning him for injuries other than his broken ribs and a likely dislocated shoulder, considering his other arm felt like it was catching on fire when he had tried to lift it. Nikolai caught a movement behind her, tried to gather the strength to get up, to follow the instinct to protect her. Zoya was faster, followed his eyes and threw her fist upward in that direction with a frustrated yell; a violent rush of air hit a soldier aiming at them, sending him toppling to the ground. “I’m trying to keep you alive, you idiot”, she raised her voice, and with it a thunder echoed in the field. Was it being called forth by her? Whatever she was doing, she did not seem aware of it. “You have a country to run. So don’t distract me.”

Someone else was rushing toward them, but this time she looked relieved, which meant whoever they were, they were on their side. That help was coming, that they were almost safe.

“Then you should handle me more gently”, Nikolai spoke again, voice unpleasantly screeching the walls of his throat like nails on a mirror.

What was happening around them? Blinding rays were coming from upward as Alina’s power rumbled into the Fold in whistling sounds, shredding every inch of it into light. He heard muffled voices, Zoya barking commands. Nikolai reached for her again, he clenched his fingers in the folds of her kefta; the hold on her tied him to earth, tied his mind to a world that still felt too unreal and too far away, as it had felt when he had been looking at it with demon eyes. This time, she did not shove him away. A young boy with a red dusted kefta kneeled before him, placing his hands on his chest. Zoya unceremoniously slipped her arm away from below him, lowering him to the ground to let the Healer work. Nikolai hissed when his back hit the sand, shooting her a glare. She shrugged her shoulders, raising her hands in fighting stance to keep them safe, scanning the area for other enemies.

“I hardly am gentle, prince”, Zoya spat out, alert.

"Did we win?"

Now she sent a swift gaze his way, drawing in an unsteady breath. "I think so", she answered with tentative hope. The Healer’s powers were doing their magic, a warmth flooding him and numbing his senses. He fought it, not wanting to lose consciousness again, to fall back into the unknown.

"Then I'm fairly sure I'm going to be crowned. You should go with Your Highness."

Wit was his. Humour, brilliance, the might to find words when voice was failing you, when air was rare, was his. Not the demon. It was Sturmhond’s cocky attitude he had kept when he had been shot and nearly bled out, it was Nikolai’s charming attire when he had rode with Dominik through village fairs and then military encampments, the optimism he had tried to feed since when he had been just a boy. It was what provoked that shadow of an exasperated smile on the squaller’s face, the twitch in her lips promptly straightened again in a thin, severe line.

"You’re a wretch”, she scolded him, turning her attention from their surroundings to the Healer that was sealing his wounds. “There’s little royalty in you right now.”

“Still a king.”

The Grisha boy cleared his throat and nodded to her. “I did the best I could, we need to get him to a tent and someone more trained”, he explained, his remark shaky. “But he is out of danger.”

Zoya exhaled, her eyelids falling shut for a mere instant. The wind slowed down; her hands were still trembling when she ran them again through her hair.

“Do you want me to take care of - “, the boy tried to ask, pointing to her. Her eyes flew open then, firm determination in them.

“We need to get going”, she cut him off. She got up with a swift movement; Nikolai caught the hand she extended to him, letting her help him to a standing position that made all of his muscles and bones howl in protest. He staggered, his knees failing to keep him up. Zoya looped an arm around his back and made him lean on her side; he gripped on her shoulders, hating himself for feeling so weak, for having to rely his weight on her. Her kefta was badly bloodied and ripped, she had a deep cut that ran over her hip and other bruises; it was difficult to assess how injured she was, yet there they were, her will tougher than the hell they had just been through.

“Then you’re a King wretch”, she mumbled from under him. She barely reached up to his chin. What a tiny ball of spite and power she was. They started to make their way toward the outlines where the Fold ended once, when it still existed. “Better? Now let me save you. You have work to do.”

With another pang of relief Nikolai recognized Tolya in the distance, the flash of white of Alina’s hair lifting up from the ground. They were alive. He could not think of much else right now, not until they reached them, until they were safe. And all properly healed, he thought, checking Zoya’s limp and how she pressed on the gash in her flank with the hand that was not supporting him.

“Are you hurt?”, he asked, winded from the effort of putting one foot in front of the other, unable to conceal his worry. Zoya startled and looked up to him, her blue irises wide and exhausted, vulnerable for the span of a flutter.

“I’ll be fine”, she said, somehow softer than before. “Just keep walking.”

Nikolai put all of his remaining energy into subtly pulling away, relieving her from some of the weight. If she noticed his effort, she did not tell. His head emptied of anything but their cautious steps, Zoya’s ragged breathing beside him, her wind running with them, shielding them from harm.

“King wretch. I like it”, he muttered back.

Kings better not take themselves too seriously, after all. It was nice to have someone remind him of that.

***

Nikolai did not mind the paperwork that came with being a ruler. It felt almost comforting to see the slow improvements his country was making under his watch written on paper, sealed with ink and brought to life. He had decided to dedicate himself to the good news today, that maybe he had earned an afternoon of peace inside the quiet of his study. The wheels kept restlessly turning inside his brain, relieving the images of the tour they had taken across torn cities and miserable villages after his coronation, and for a couple of hours he just wanted to forget about them. Contrary to every concern he had held, the people travelling with him had made the grueling trip all the more bearable; they had run against time itself, wearing their horses down and getting little to no sleep at all, resting not more than one night at every stop to be back in Os Alta as soon as possible. He had felt even hopeful, at times. The same kind of jittery expectancy that made him check his time piece for the tenth time in a row and try to stop the rhythmic beating of his foot on the floor, without dwelling too much on the knot of eagerness in his stomach. When the pointer clicked on the chime of the hour, a knock resounded in the room. She was always almost eerily on time.

“Come in”, called Nikolai to the door, folding the letter he was skimming through. A valet entered and cleared his throat.

“Your Highness”, he bowed deeply, “Miss Nazyalensky is here as you requested. Shall I let - “

The squaller marched in the room, surpassing the poor valet as if he was an inconsistent blur of annoyance.

“Miss Nazyalensky”, she hissed under her breath, flicking her hair over her shoulder, ”I am no Miss, and I am perfectly able to let myself in.”

Nikolai arched an amused brow at her, kindly dismissing the servant. A disdainful glare was cast in the direction of the valet’s deferent curtsy as she strode in front of the king’s seat. Zoya never bowed. For anyone. He lounged in his chair, turning all of his focus on the gorgeous harpy that now stood before him, spine straight, chin high and defiant eyes pinned on him. She clasped her hand behind her back with her usual military countenance.

“You called for me, Your Highness?”

“I did”, he confirmed, straightening his legs before him and crossing them at the ankle. There constantly seemed to be a slight mockery in the way she indulged in his title. He folded his hands, still studying her. The vague nuisance with which she was eyeing him was clear enough to make him smirk at her.

“I hear the Triumvirate has done some grand process in these first few weeks”, Nikolai stated, gesturing to the documents on his desk. “I’ve been informed that many Grisha are seeking refuge in the Little Palace. And I also hear you’ve been reconstructing. I do have hope we will be able to put the Second Army back into shape.”

Zoya did not answer, merely kept looking at him with the barest nod of her chin. The king was not used to people being so untouched by his presence, or to be that annoyingly silent around him. He would not admit he had spent part of the last weeks trying to catch her off guard with an astounding lack of results.

“Would you agree with the reports?”

His question seemed to ignite a spark of interest through her immovability. He had noticed that while she had no issue in voicing her opinions strongly, she seemed not equally accustomed to people directly consulting her with a true interest in her point of view. Maybe he was reading too much into things, but he had guessed Zoya liked how he had started to value her input.

“We are indeed making progress”, Zoya said, “but there is a lot of work to be done. We’re only starting.” She paused, seemingly pondering her words. “We need - “

“Before we start making requests”, his interruption earned himself an irritated glare, “I called you in because I have something to ask. To the whole three of you, actually; I asked Genya and David too.” Yet, somehow, her answer was the one he was most curious about. “Alina gave you the Triumvirate. You know what to expect from it now. And you’ve got just a mere taste; what’s to come will be tougher, tiresome. While I assume you have the motivation to keep your position, I do prefer to give people a choice when it comes to demanding tasks. So I’m asking: do you still want it?”

“I do.” There was no hesitation, only urge in the way the answer rolled out of her. She took a step in his direction and cleared her throat. “Not just the Triumvirate. I want to train the new Grisha. And we need to speed up the process on the royal order stating Grisha’s rights. If we are to rally them, they need to feel truly safe here.”

Nikolai kept his expression neutral, although he was pleasantly impressed. He knew she had taken it upon herself to start working with the Grisha finding shelter in the Little Palace, and the kids being taken there. He would not have made her out to be someone who loved teaching; then again, it was hard to make her out for anything. As far as her initiative went, he had quickly understood how his status meant little to her. After all, they were kids themselves. She was a year younger than him, and she had seen him shift between his roles of privateer, prince and what someone might call usurper. Never failing to point the last one out to him, if one had to be precise; Saints forbid he could ever possibly forget he needed to earn a respect that was not freely given. Surely not by Zoya Nazyalensky. He would not expect from her the humble demeanor of a subject in front of a king. Thank the Saints for that, he found himself thinking. Her bracing self was almost soothing, after weeks of dealing with people smarming at his feet, and hers was the company he had found himself searching for more often than others, as wicked as she might be. Zoya never overstepped without a reason, apart from a common snarky energy that was profoundly her. What she did was to call him out on every dumb decision he leaned toward, and constantly remind him how to be worthy of his position and the love of his people.

“We can arrange that”, he decided to answer, satisfied by how her pupils widened at his prompt concession. He got up and opened a bottle of brandy, pouring himself a glass. He glanced back at her, still planted in the middle of the room.

“You were loyal to the Darkling.” Nikolai was sure he had not imagined the flash of anger that darkened the blue of her eyes, nor how her jaw clenched and her posture seemed to tense. “Pardon me for being so forthright, but I do feel like it’s better to deal with the tedious matter first.” Or rather the interesting ones you seem to keep an aura of secrecy around.

When she spoke, her voice was not as firm as before. “We’ve worked together for weeks and known each other for longer. I wonder if you have a suicidal strike or you are really questioning my loyalty now.”

“No suicidal strike, and I’m not questioning anything.” The heartfelt honesty in him seemed to reassure her. Her shoulders eased ever so slightly, yet her features remained strained. “As you dutifully pointed out, the time for that has long passed. However, since we’re getting to know each other, I guess you’ll find I like stories. This seems like a good one.”

“Stories are earned”, Zoya asserted, slitting eyes and matter of factly tone.

“Fine point. You were, though”, Nikolai pressed. Her look never wavered from his. Unconsciously he leaned toward her, rolling his glass between his fingers.

“I was.”

“What changed?”

“Everything.”

Silence stretched on. Nikolai decided he could wait a while, if it meant gaining some other insight. He did know part of the story, the part that was ushered by people when she strode beside them. Stories might need to be earned, but they also needed to be told by the ones who had lived them. Nikolai was not one to listen to gossip anyway. Sure enough, she resumed speaking, catching that he was not going to drop the subject.

“It got personal. I was loyal to him because I craved power, then because I believed he could provide a home for us. Instead, he stripped from me the only one I had and slaughtered my friends. Enough of a reason?”

Zoya proudly lifted her chin even higher, her words back to being stinging as an icy wind, the anger burning in her seeping through the tremor in her hands. She moved closer. A slight breeze swept through the room, rustling the papers, called forth by her emotions in turmoil. He remembered when it happened in the Fold, when her despair had raised the wind around them and a thunder had boomed.

They were no more than two steps apart, now; the gust she summoned carried a scent Nikolai struggled to place as her hair lifted up. It reminded him of the heat of a sunny day, of the field near Dominick's house when spring came, when his little sisters would run back into the kitchen with crowns made of daisies and golden ears of wheat. Was it the pressed corn caught in the evening mist? Was it flowers?

“I won’t beg for trust. Words are empty vessels, actions carry meaning. The choice is yours: either you let me prove myself, or you discard me now.”

She kept her fierce piercing eyes to his, every inch the warrior. Nikolai held her gaze, hazel melting into blue, a small smile tugging at his lips, struck by the force of her nature and her fuming reaction.

“Here I thought I was the dramatic one”, he chuckled, ignoring her scowl and pulling his hands up in surrender. He slipped inside a reassuring attitude. “I was really not questioning you. Alina trusted you, she chose you. You fought for all of us. I’ve seen the way you stood up for your people, I’ve always agreed with Alina. This is your home; you already proved yourself, more than enough.”

The wind ceased to flow; Zoya flexed her fingers, a rage made of guilt and regret still paining her look. Nikolai knew the place from where those feelings came. Maybe picking at that was not a sensible idea after all. He would need to stop outright testing both her patience and his luck like this; the temptation she was brewing of roasting him alive right now was evident. He was still measuring his steps around her, how she seemed to dive into arguments that would make anyone on earth feel at least uncomfortable, or close right off when someone touched seemingly irrelevant nerves.

“Besides”, Nikolai let the smile spread in her direction, “I am in dire need of allies.”

And friends, he thought sourly, yet a king can rarely ask for those.

“Unnerving them sure seems a smart way to ensure your supposed allies’ support”, she clipped out, shaking her cuffs.

“I like to test my chances.” His words were accompanied by a shrug. The urge to take another step toward her pressed in the back of his brain. “You haven’t unleashed a storm on me yet, so I’d say we’re halfway through a steady relationship of trust and mutual forbearance.”

“Mutual, sure.”

Nikolai tapped his finger on the desk. It seemed he could not stay still. “You’ll need to work together”, he advised, “with Genya and David.”

“I do well on my own.”

Like she has not made that abundantly clear in the last couple of months.

“Oh, I have no issue in believing that. Still, it wasn’t a suggestion, I’m afraid.”

Zoya’s mouth curved in an honey smile; she fluttered her lashes, tilting her head in his direction, the dark waves of her hair falling on her shoulders. It could have been an almost convincing smile, if it had reached her eyes. Instead, it stood cold on her face, firm as a statue, a pretense of complacency with the clear intent to taunt. Nikolai had no doubt whatsoever that entire crowds of people had fallen on their knees for that feigned sweetness. To be completely truthful, she did throw him off balance. Now it would surely be a reasonable call to put a bit of distance between them. Not that he resorted to reason that often when making decisions.

“I am well aware kings are not in the habit of making requests, Your Highness.” Her voice rippled like silk, delicate and musing, dripping sarcasm. “I was merely informing you.”

“You’re not particularly easy, are you?”, he asked with a grin, leaning back on the desk and folding his arms. An apparently casual movement meant to regain the use of his lungs. The smile vanished as she adjusted her hair.

“I am not easy, nor kind. And I lack the interest to make people search for these qualities in me.”

Nikolai had begun to understand in these weeks the stories around her, more than he had ever understood them before. He had also begun to nurture a sheer curiosity in her regard, for the complex mind she hid and the way she seemed careless to other people's thoughts on her. He tried not to let himself be distracted now, which always proved to be a strenuous task with this particular girl, when she waved that look at him and played the card of the ridiculously attractive and positively enchanting Grisha summoner she undoubtedly was. He did really need to get a grip, though. If they were to work together as closely as he had his mind set to, he had to find a way to make himself immune to her flair, constructed or natural that it was.

Never seduce anyone prettier than I am, right? Or never even conceive to seduce anyone you’re attracted to if you had planned to offer that specific anyone one of the highest-ranking positions in the whole country. An equally wise rule to live by. If only her look was the only appeal he had found in her. Her edgy personality, which people tended to be almost scared of, had captivated him a great deal more; whatever beauty withered in the face of how capable and strong-spirited she was. Qualities that made her all the more desirable. The privateer in him had screamed at the top of his lungs to take on the improbable quest of conquering someone who seemed impervious to him as she did, someone that out of reach, that captivating. Shameful instinct, to say the least. And leaning on the worst-idea-ever side of things.

Besides, he had a country to take care of now; he was no longer a privateer who could make reckless choices and chase after impossible girls. Nikolai Lantsov was a king, the king of a war-torn, desperate place. The challenge of earning her trust and admiration might turn out to be just as endearing; he could embark on that one, letting her bitter tongue put him back into place.

Resorting to his decision, he got a small box out of a drawer, placing it on the desk beside him.

“There’s something else I mean to offer you.”

Zoya eyed the box, while Nikolai bobbed his chin at it, encouraging her to take it. She stood still, her look shifting back to observe him. Truly exasperating the lack of gratifications she offered.

“Contrary to what you believe, I am no fool.” He decided to dive right into it, pushing through her silence. “As much as I hate to admit it, the Darkling was fairly good at reading people. You rose high in his favour because he considered you extremely resourceful and trustworthy, and valued you as a soldier.” Nikolai unfolded his arms and rested his hands on the wooden brink of the desk, pushing himself to her; he lowered his voice with a smirk. “And I know for a fact the reason for that has nothing to do with your very pleasant appearance, which I have no doubt is another weapon you know how to use.”

He backed up again. Life on the sea had taught him to turn weakness into brass. Thankfully, he had spent years practicing the art of acting. Zoya pursed her lips, biting a comeback and momentarily avoiding his gaze. Not that impervious after all. One had to catch on the details.

“I am not blind. Nor do I have reasons to pretend to be. Still, I’m afraid I am far more interested in your wide arsenal of warfare talents.” He took a sip from his glass and hummed teatrichally, cocking his head to the side to assess her. “I do share the burden of being handsome, though. We can whine together about our fatigues.”

That mocking smile was back on her mouth, sparkling with mischief. She spoke with a casual tone, smoothing her kefta. “As much as you brag about it, your charm seems to fail you. Our Sun Saint did not look particularly impressed by it.”

Ah, clever one. Nikolai mustered his composure to flash another grin at her, thoroughly impressed both by her boldness and by the precision of her strike. All right, that stung. Which to her credit only meant she had no fear to bite people where it hurt and a certain ability to find that spot. Useful skills for a General.

“Luckily for me, she was one of a very few number of exceptions.”

“Charm our way through peace, then.” Zoya cast her eyes heavenward, crossing her arms.

“Can I come back to praise you? I wasn’t finished.”

“By all means, do”, she gestured.

“As I was saying. Sadly for our favorite herald of darkness, he was also a prick. Not to mention manipulator and mass murderer, amongst other remarkable successes. He wholly under-estimated you: you are trustworthy and resourceful, along with a lot of other virtues he did not remotely understand nor properly paid attention to.”

Nikolai paused. He put his glass down, yielding to the temptation at last and letting his feet stride toward her. Had she moved more near too? Now they were definitely closer than needed. He could see the darker slivers in her irises, the curls falling inside the fur collar of her uniform.

The smell in the Grand Palace garden after a rainstorm, he thought of that scent. When he had laid in the grass and soaked his clothes in mud, just for the sake of feeling the earth below him and the water on his skin.

“I’ve watched you, these weeks. You are good. Not just at fighting, I believe that is a given. You are good at leading. Your mind is way sharper than your tongue. I’ve studied you with your Etherealki and the other Grisha, with the First Army representatives.``

He made a show of plucking a peck of invisible dust from his coat. Zoya did not move, keeping her attention on him. A sceptical frown appeared on her face.

“You do love to hear yourself talk.”

“I’ve watched you do that, too. You’re bold, in a good way. You tend to deliver neat blows.”

“Are you in the habit of examining all the people that come to work for you?”

“Just the powerful ones”, he admitted.

She might have looked nothing but unimpressed by the string of praises he had just given, as if they were common known truths, nothing of importance to linger on. Her eyes had grown troubled though, then curious, they had softened in the glowing sunset light. They were assessing him with strong intent now, and Nikolai could only think they held the ocean inside. The ocean he had seen when he had thought he would never be back on the waves again, the one that had felt like hope gained with blood and shattered bones in those grey sands.

“You saved me, in the Fold”, Nikolai abruptly said. The twitch in her breath made him understand just how much his demeanor had changed unconsciously, how much the mask of the ruler had slipped away and his unguarded voice betrayed him.

“Indeed.”

“I haven’t had the occasion to thank you properly.”

“It’s my job”, she briskly answered, almost annoyed. “You’re my king.”

You’re my king. Best to ignore the bolt of confidence and pleasure that spiked through his spine.

“Apart from my gratitude, I kind of had in mind to make it your actual job”, the king considered.

Zoya Nazyalensky. Not kind, and not easy. Zoya shot him a suspicious look, but she held her ground.

“It just so happens that both me and the Second Army are in need of a General”, he declared, never shifting his focus from her face. “Would you care to consider taking the position?”

He caught the box in his hand, opening the lid and extending it to her. A medal was shining in it, the golden Ravka double eagle, wrought in in a pale blue sash. Zoya briefly lowered her gaze to it, turning to look at Nikolai with an intensity that was almost impossible to bear. Her look was unreadable, yet the tension in her stiff muscles unmistakable. Nikolai could hardly hide the painful want for her to accept, the thrill he felt at the chance of having someone to rely on, in time, to share some of the burden with. Someone who was not his father’s advisors, someone he could choose. Someone he felt a strange pull toward, a sort of twisted hidden affinity.

Alina chose you, he had told her. The choice is yours, she had told him.

I made the choice. I am the one choosing you now.

The thumping heart in his chest ached at the possibility of making things right for this cursed country with a person he could trust at his side. To ease the loneliness, even if it had to be a game of pretend to some degree. The moments dripped away, her eyes alight with a flame hard to understand. Nikolai restrained his own will to jump into that blazing chaos, knowing how easily he would have lost himself in it.

“You’re making me your General?”, she said finally. The annoyance had disappeared, replaced with a hesitant falter, something that sounded both like disbelief and a flicker of cautious excitement.

“I’m asking you to be my General, if you wish so. I would not force anything on you. The position comes with a lot of heavy responsibilities and long sleepless nights.” Zoya was still frozen in place. Slowly, her arms uncrossed, coming to rest at her sides. “On the brighter side, you’ll get to enjoy endless hours of my company.”

“I’d say the brighter side is the responsibilities one.”

None of the previous snark was contained in her words. He could see how hard she was trying to keep her attitude on her, her own mask.

“You can decide whether to direct your scowls at me or at people annoying you then.”

“You’re assuming you won’t be among the people annoying me. Bold take.”

“I’d wager that’s what I’m mostly going to do”, Nikolai conceded. Zoya was trying to buy time, to ward off his attention. He just wasn’t sure if she needed it to regain her confident self or if she was considering how to refuse the offer. Nikolai did not like the last option, and it was better to rip the band aid off quickly.

“With the prospect of this gain, would you accept?” She peered at him again. He could not hold back a grin. “Did I just surprise you?”

“Please”, she spat out, but it was a little too marked to not be forced. Nikolai fought the impulse to smile wider. “Who else would you choose? Genya, so she can tailor the enemies away? David, to bore them to death with science talks? I’m the most qualified for the job. It’s reasonable of you to ask me.”

“I am not asking you because it’s reasonable.”

Again, reason was not the prime source fueling his judgment. For Saints sake, would you take this damn medal? Nerve racking girl that she was. It was making him fancy her even more.

“I am asking you because you deserved it. I believe you are the right person for this task, in many different ways.”

The weariness in her was still there; he hoped she could see that was not empty flattery anymore, that he had meant it. Finally, finally Zoya reached for the medal. He heard her draw in a sharp breath, a crease appearing between her brows. Nikolai wondered how it would feel to make it disappear, to see her features smooth down. Zoya moved through the world like a soldier with an armor in place, one she kept up with the pure will of her steel spirit and hardened heart. Despite her stillness, power was radiating off of her, the wind once again carrying that distinctive scent.

That small fishermen port they had docked in when the Volkvolny had arrived on the Wandering Isle, the one that was surrounded by pastures and a wide meadow in which an ocean of colourful wildflowers had just sprouted. Wildflowers.

For once in life, Nikolai had hardly an idea of who the person standing in front of him was. The enigmatic, beautiful, fierce squaller. Was she happy? Excited for this chance to serve her country? Terrified by the prospect of what they still had to face? Considering smacking him for being out of his mind? There was something that lurked inside of her under that armor, something in those blue eyes that seemed too painful to be looked at, too intimate to know. It came in shadows, disappearing, as if she was fighting it to stay down, to get it under control. The same bottomless abyss he had seen when she had saved him.

Nikolai knew what it meant, to lose something, to fight for an ideal and see it broken, to finally have the power in your hands to fix what others had crushed. It felt terrifying and exhilarating, and maybe that was what was running in that head of hers now. Zoya brushed her fingers on the golden pin, pulling it up and wrapping it under her hand. She closed her fist, raising her gaze to him, locking their eyes together. The shadows had gone, replaced by a fearless light.

“I’ll need to meet with the First Army generals”, the tone of a leader. “They won’t like this, and since I am fairly sure you don’t care one bit about it, I’ll need to handle them. And I’ll need that document drafted.”

He nodded, pushing down the towering joy that was flooding his chest. Practical. Ruthless, facing the issues head on, not shying away. He twisted and reached for another glass from the cabinet, turning inside his mind the fact that she had accepted, that he was looking at his General now.

“To a long and fruitful partnership, then”, Nikolai offered her the brandy, “or rather to save this broken country and not getting killed in the meanwhile.”

Zoya gave him a stern look. “I don’t drink on the job.”

Why does that not surprise me? He grinned excitedly and raised the glass to her, downing his drink.

“In time, I may teach you to have a little fun, too.”

Unscathed, she just tossed her hair. “Believe me, Your Highness, I am perfectly able to revel in fun. I am just highly selective of the people I allow to share it with me.”

The seducing part really would never be necessary, after all. He had a hunch they were immensely going to enjoy working together and drive each other crazy. I undoubtedly am.

“You’ll teach me how you select those blessed souls, then.”

Before she could resume their banter, another call at the king’s chambers’ entrance interrupted them, bursting the quiet of this comfortable room. The sound seemed to snap Zoya back to herself, making her realize how close they were standing. Nikolai had already been all too aware of it. She quickly moved away from him, not leaving his eyes. Pride back in her expression, shoulders squared. In her silver threaded kefta, she already appeared like the able respected General she would soon grow into. Her medal was closed in her fist, the knuckles white from the force of the grip.

“I will not fail Ravka”, she said, marking every word. I will not fail you, was the rest of the sentence, the part that hung unspoken between them. “I promise you that.”

Nikolai trusted her, without reservations. The king knew he had made the right choice. Both for the country, and, he selfishly thought, for himself. There was a hidden gratitude in her oath, the emotion she would not speak outright but nevertheless felt.

“Brace yourself, Nazyalensky.” He felt positively giddy and already itching for the challenges that fate would throw their way. “It’s going to be one hell of a ride. Take the rest of the evening for yourself, I’m afraid it’s the last moment of peace you’ll have for a while.”

She exhaled, her eyes moving to the window and Os Alta’s pointed domes in the distance.

“Ravka doesn’t consider rest as possible, that much I know.”

She rang for the servant, ignoring they were in Nikolai’s study and he was the one probably supposed to do that. Already moving like she owned the place, deciding the conversation was over. Zoya gave him a long, deep look.

“Goodnight, Your Highness.”

Nikolai fell back on his chair, watching her go as one of the old king’s advisors was accompanied inside the study. Surely a less pleasurable company for the evening. Both for the eyes and for the soul, he thought, forcing himself to wave a welcoming expression to the white-bearded man and his ridiculously long mustaches.

“Miss Nazyalensky”, the advisor greeted her with a half bow as she passed beside him on her way to the hallway. Zoya simply rolled her eyes, strolling toward the door with a last nod at Nikolai. He was sorry to see her go. Before she got out, Nikolai took the impulse and called to the man before him.

“General”, he corrected him, ignoring his shocked expression, “it’s General Nazyalensky now.”

Nikolai did not miss the slight misstep Zoya took at his words. Her kefta wirled as her gaze snapped to his. A beat passed. Without a sign of acknowledgment, Zoya looked away, that scent he had finally placed disappearing with her. Nikolai thought it best not to tell her that she hadn’t been quick enough to hide; he had seen her lashes lowering as she sighed, a smile tugging at her lips, one that was not feigned neither mocking, one that made her eyes sparkle with delight and was not meant to be noticed. If there was hope to make Zoya Nazyalensky brighten up like that, maybe Nikolai had it in himself to steer this country to safety after all.

Goodnight, General.

***

“I thought we were past these poor attempts at wooing me”, she scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Nikolai chuckled, drawing her back to rest on his chest, circling her in his arms. He rested his chin on her head, listening to the warm huff of her breath on the cotton of his shirt. Deadly Zoya, who let herself curl in his hold almost easily. If someone had told him he would live to the feel of her lashes shutting on his heart, Nikolai would have probably sent the man to get his head checked by a Healer. Or paid him another drink.

“I am positively serious”, Nikolai assured her. Zoya blew a distrustful grunt.

“Nikolai, you do realize you don’t need to flatter me to get me into your bed anymore?”

“I do like you in my bed. Or anywhere else, for that matter”, he considered, humming against her hair. Zoya leaned on his shoulder to prompt herself up, looking him straight in the eyes. He tried to keep a smooth expression.

“So you’re saying I garnered your attention that soon? To me, you seemed a bit - “

She tilted her head to the side, shrugged her shoulders.

“Yes?”

“Distracted”, she pointed out, an overly amused grin perking her lips.

Nikolai knew she was referring both to Alina and to the apparently unscathed attitude he had kept around her in the years they had worked together. No doubt clueless to how quickly other forbidden images had replaced the Sun Summoner’s ones in his dreams or just how much commitment he had been forced to put into appearing unaffected by her presence. He had been distracted, at first, though even in distraction Zoya snatched the attention like a lightning. Then a quake in the ground had struck; Zoya had then made her way into his life like a ferociously fast tidal wave, rippling foam at first, raging and rumbling waters then.

“You distracted me a lot, Zoya. Working with you has been equally comforting and tiring. You distract me even more now”, he leaned closer, sliding one hand on her neck, preventing her from backing away, “that I get to do this”. Nikolai caught her lips with his, kissing away the disbelieving frown from her mouth. When the kiss broke, she looked halfway convinced of his candor.

“You can’t possibly imagine how many dull meetings I have tuned out with you haunting my thoughts. The overactive mind I happen to be cursed with did not help my concentration.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, even though they both knew how truthful the statement was.

“You are diverting.”

“Is it working?”

“A bit”, she casually dismissed, tucking a strand of black curls on her finger. Nikolai sighed happily, slipping away in his thoughts. He wanted to tell her everything, he wanted her to take a stroll right into his mind to see it all. They had so much time now, and he had the constant urge of stocking it without letting a single instant slip, making up for all the years it had taken them to have each other.

“Anyway, it’s nothing special. People are commonly struck by my beauty.”

“I’ll admit you are kind of a breath-taking vision”, he snatched her hand away from her hair to press a kiss on her knuckles. “That’s not what really caught my attention, though.”

Of course he had noticed her. Then again, who did not? The vexing creature was hard not to notice, with dark waves framing a perfect figure, hiding an intricate enigma to solve. Since he was a boy, the prince had loved to unravel the puzzle of a person, he had proud himself of being able to do so with nearly everyone he had encountered. Zoya was another kind of riddle, one that had given him more headaches than victories. She made a point to hide; and Nikolai, well, he had always been an explorer at heart, hadn’t he? So he had noticed, and embarked on the journey drawn by the thrill of adventure. Every bitter word had been a wave to crash, every harsh reply a storm to weather to look under the surface. Every gust of wind, barked command and brisk political comment a sudden turn inside her convoluted mind.

“I’m torn between accusing you of sweet-talking me as usual or just outright lying.”

Nikolai clenched his heart in a mock gesture, and a small laugh bubbled in his chest. Judging from the bright gleam in her eyes and the lightness with which she was messing with him, she had believed him.

“Enough about you then. Am I to truly believe I did not impress you at first sight?”

Zoya glared daggers at him, but did not answer right away, considering his question. He got lucky this evening.

“You did impress me, albeit saying at first sight would be a huge overstatement”, she admitted, then exhaled a long breath and let herself fall on the cushion. “I was so happy when you asked me to be your General”, her eyes were distant, as if she was talking to herself more than him, seeing the rageful and determined girl she had been. “I went back to my room and could not stop smiling. My heart was so full, for the first time since what felt like forever. It never felt like a responsibility, it felt like an opportunity you gave me.”

“Tell me you waltzed alone in your room, please”, he teased, being the one who wanted to improvise a victory dance on the spot.

“I will not.”

“You will not tell me because it did not happen, or just to deprive me of the satisfaction?”

“Your ego does not need more encouragement”, she rested her chin on her hand, forcing her lips to stay pursed and fighting back a smile. So that was a yes, then. Zoya bursting with happiness was a sight he would have probably sold his soul to see, three years ago.

“That was the first time I believed you may not be the overly chatty catastrophe I would have made you out to be.”

“You know, I’m not so sure”, Nikolai grinned at her, beaming with pride. “You were stunned when I shot the Darkling.”

“You remember that?”, she gave him a surprised glance from her place on the cushion. They barely knew each other back then, but he had not forgotten. He pulled her back to him, brushed his mouth on her forehead.

“I paid attention in these years, Zoya. To every inch of you.”

It had taken him a while to notice the other things. The stubborn tilt of her chin when she was being challenged and needed to hold her ground. How she shook the cuffs of her kefta before announcing something, or how it meant the argument was done on her part. The way she marked the first words of a sentence with a harder tone than usual when she was in distress, as if the very fact of lacing a syllable with spite could hold herself together. Her resting her head to the side when she was at ease, narrowing her eyes to the sunlight, allowing herself a surrender. The grief and hurt that peered through only when she was trying too hard to conceal it, only when the exhaustion was overwhelming and keeping this country together too tiring. The gleam she possessed when she was teaching the kids, how her gaze softened with care as soon as they turned their backs on her and she watched them laugh and toss each other around. Her laughter with Genya or Tamar when they had a glass too much in the evening and they gossiped around, basking in the illusion of being normal people with no weight on their shoulders.

Zoya had been a story for Nikolai, one he had wanted to unfold, to slowly walk through the pages of it and discover her mysteries, her secrets, her wants. She had been the puzzle of his lifetime, and he knew he would never stop sorting through it. Whenever he thought he had put some sense in it, she uncovered a dark alley he had brushed past without noticing; her Suli heritage, her family’s past, her garden of sorrows. And then came the agony of sorting her feelings out, a line he had walked balancing his hopeless wishes and the reality of her gestures. Trying to piece together how deliberate or innocent had been the way she kept locking their gazes together through the opposite corner of a room, wondering how carefree when she lingered with her fingers on his skin a moment too long as they brushed their hands. If she was toying with him as he had heard in the stories about her, or if her restraint wavered under a desire he had not known he was hoping for. All the times the inevitable had almost happened, and they had strode past these occurrences with the shared silent pact of not voicing it out loud. Zoya’s look growing calm in the dim light of the countless rooms they had worked in, a warmth they had both longed for.

Nikolai tightened his hold on her. He buried his nose in her hair.

The heat of a sunny day, the spring that came in Dominik’s fields, the crushed daisies under his sisters’ sticky fingers. The Grand Palace garden brought alive by rain around him, droplets running through his golden hair. A meadow near the sea in a foreign magical place where he would take her one day, the marvels he would show her. That damn wildflowers scent he had never been able to carve out of the bottom of his soul.

She had revealed herself in front of him, in irrelevant moments carrying with them a significance he had never been aware of.

“I thought I knew myself”, Zoya started, barely audible over the crackling of the fire, “the rotten parts of me. My strengths.” She paused. “Seeing me through your eyes - you shattered everything I knew and built it back. I did not understand how soon you had started doing that.”

"Soulmates stuff, I guess”, he murmured in a wanton tone, ignoring the prick behind his eyes, startled by the sudden shift in her mood and the heartfelt openness she was displaying.

“I don’t believe in that nonsense”, Zoya huffed dismissively. Nikolai laughed.

“I share your disbelief, actually. Destiny has done nothing but put obstacles in our path, after all. If anything, we have defied it. I believe it’s more a matter of choices”, he said, pensive. Once again, he rested his cheek on her carefully brushed curls, inhaling deeply. “We did not happen to stumble upon each other and miraculously fall in love. We chose each other.”

The choice is yours.

I made the choice. I am the one choosing you now.

I would choose you, Zoya. As my general, as my friend, as my bride.

The first one had gone unbelievably smoothly. The second, it had taken patience and effort and a certain resistance to disappointments. The third one, well - he was working on that. A ring did stand wrapped around her finger. Halfway there.

Zoya must had been thinking of that, too. She seemed to ponder his statement before replying. “You did tell me you would choose me. When I thought no one would.”

“I think I chose you long before I knew I did. Then I hoped against all odds that when you’d make your own choice, you’d choose me in return. That you’d choose to stay.”

Zoya fell silent. He could not see her, but he imagined just as well her biting her lower lip, his words sinking into her heart. With Zoya, the quiet was comfortable, warm as the press of her body on his. The quiet was needed.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long”, a whisper at last, as she turned back up to look at him. Nikolai shook his head decisively.

“Don’t be.”

“You have waited for me.” There was just a knowing safety in her tone. It had mattered, for Nikolai, to let her choose. To let her know, and then let her decide. To give her a chance at love and stand by for her to take it, his trust in her never faltering. He gently took her face between his calloused hands, worn by battles and tight salty ropes.

“You were worth every second. Besides, time means nothing for demons and saints, right? We have a lot of it in our hands.”

This time she whole-heartedly smiled, adjusting his perfectly fine collar in that affectionate unaware gesture again.

Being the unsuccessful poet he could have been in another lifetime, sometimes he wondered if the story they had lived would ever go on in ballad and poems, as he had once joked with her. If someone would tell of an open sky split by lightning in which a dragon had spread his wings and roared his heartache, never to be left alone to live in darkness again. If someone would hear of a wayward privateer finding the ocean in a person, tricking fate into conquering everything his battered heart had ever searched for. If there would ever be written the tale of a love waiting on the other side of a door, of the people brave enough to cross it.

He had thought they would have just kept telling that tale to each other, through open mouthed kisses left on bare skin, tangled sheets and hushed confessions traded in the night. Then one day, he had heard the kids play in the Little Palace forest, a girl with golden brown skin splashing water on the others from the lake, calling herself the Suli queen who could turn into a legendary beast. He had seen a Fabrikator in the library draft sketches of pirates and mystical creatures fighting each other on a flying ship. To his amusement, he had watched and eavesdropped as one of his personal guards, a handsome young boy coming from Udova, had tried to woo a noble girl into walking with him to the garden, promising her to tell her the fable of how a king with a demon inside had won the attentions of a beautiful unattainable witch who commanded the storms.

Nikolai liked that. The idea that their struggles might turn into hope. One thing he loved, though, were the details that remained theirs.

Zoya brushed a hand through his golden hair with a yearning look in her eyes, soft as a feather she kissed his jaw, adjusted herself in the space between his arms, played with the ring on her finger as she laced her hand with his. She still called him King wretch at times, he still called her his General. She had still eaten all of his herring that morning, they had still made time to work silently through papers together before dinner. At the end, there had never been a hierarchy between them, swept away in the matter of heartbeats since she had held a broken prince in the safety of her wind and he had given her a medal to cradle in her fingers: they had always fought alongside each other, as they were doing now. These details.

That was the part of their story no one would ever earn to hear. The part they would keep writing in secret.

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gwynpool · 4 years ago

Text

it’s 2AM and i just finished Rule of Wolves (spoilers definitely up ahead)

first, to inform everyone, i read the spoilers when it got leaked in twitter cuz i can’t help myself. (it’s a sickness, i know) i think this is important since it definitely influenced my perspective upon reading the book. also, this is my first time being early in a party so yay me! going in ROW was easy for me because i started King of Scars the day before book 2’s actual release date so everything’s fresh.

secondly, this is really long so i’m sorry. i just have a lot of feelings and need to write it all down. on with the rant.

King of Scars was wonderful to me since it gave me my favorite Shadow and Bone character and the girl who i used to hate for being a mean girl but who I now admire with every ounce of my being. It also introduced a new ship that I am now obsessed with and is ruling besides my love for Jude&Cardan. Not to mention, it gave us Nina, whom though i’m not entirely a fan of due to all my love focusing on Kaz and Inej, allowed the connection between Shadow&Bone with SixofCrows.

Moving on, ROW was a ride and whirlwind of emotions. unfortunately, it wasn’t always the best kind.

I love the fantasy elements of it (tho it was a huge leap especially with the saints power thingy) and the politics because i am a sucker for scheming and stealing thrones.

the zoyalai teasing and angst was painful but in the best way since slowburn is what keeps me going.

nina finding comfort (and attraction, apparently) from hanne made my heart flutter because i haven’t gotten over matthias but this allowed a sort of closure and next chapter for our waffle-loving queen.

the promised wedding by leigh wasn’t what i expected but i’m not complaining since david&genya deserved nothing but happiness.

almost everything seems going well (aside from the fact that aleksander was ressurected apparently)and then everything crashes and burns and i just have to wonder why?

so the promised funeral alongside the wedding one, immediately comes after two? three? chapters as they were attacked during the afterparty of the wedding. and guess what? leigh killed the fcking groom.

the thing is i already knew he was going to die (with the spoilers and all) but i did not expect it to come immediately after the freaking wedding. not even halfway through the book!

being spoiled, i think, took most of the pain from the event but it doesn’t lessen the fact that it was completely unnecessary??? like though the characters grieved, nothing much was affected from his death? also, don’t talk to me about the character development for the survivors from this tragic event because there. was. absolutely. NONE.

and then we have the fricking darling ressurected. i love him in the first book of the grishaverse though i knew he was still a villain, don’t get me wrong. and my heart ached but was also relieved with his death in the third. he also inspired one of my all-time favorite fantasy villain(antihero?) in the form of Adelina Amouteru in the Young Elites series.

Ceased to be a Darklina fan and am now shipping Aleksander with Adelina because their power tho? like clings to like and they are both imbued with unfathomable darkness. somebody write fics please.

but bringing him back was what for exactly? leigh bardugo preached on how toxic the darkling character was and how we really shouldn’t like him in terms of agreeing with his ideals and yada yada. and yet she brings him back because apparently, he’s the only one paying her bills.

his conversation with alina tho had me expecting some darklina crumbs with fan service on the side since the stans were all raving about it on twitter *vomiting noises from toxicity* but i was surprised since it just further reminded us of how he truly is a villain in his very core and would do anything to get what he wants. so all in all it wasn’t entirely awful and it actually made me like Mal a bit. (never was a fan of him but that’s my issue, not the character’s)

setting aside the darkling issue a bit, the POV from Mayu was skippable. i mean obviously it still needs to be read for the Shu politics and the khergud existence but it just made me want to go to the next pov. Same goes for the “the monk’s” POV since you all know how i feel about him and the cult with it’s assembly and shit ended up also being unnecessary towards the end. honestly, i could do without the journey of the starless saint and his cult.

i truly enjoyed the fjerdan plot to my surprise and i like how nina kind of went through the last of us 2 circle of hate journey. it was definitely difficult knowing her pain and all that she went through and still choosing to be the better person. and yet, i can’t help but be more proud of her development. also, the supposed death of hanne got me going for a second and was actually ready to storm leigh’s home to fix her mistake. thank god it was plot twist. that’s all i have to say on the nina POV because i don’t wanna ruin my good feeling on this.

the crows cameo gave us a mini heist and it just made me miss reading their adventures. also the suli scene tugged at my heart.

imma skip zoya’s transformation but it utterly made me feel amazing and i have never been more glad that she’s kind of overpowered. she deserves it so fck all them haters. you can choke.

nikolai’s revelation and decision for the ravkan throne was not all that surprising, even without my knowledge of the spoilers. i honestly had a feeling that he was always his best self when he was strumhond and he only chose to fulfill the duties of the king because at that time, there was no other choice. so him giving up the throne to his beloved soldier, summoner and saint was a quite satisfying choice of route. there has been some others who would contest nikolai’s decision to step down as something unnecessary in the grand scheme of things but i would stand by my belief that nikolai made the best choice for ravka and for himself. not to say that i didn’t want to see both the queen and king side by side ruling but what are fanfictions for?

zoyalai is canon and endgame. finally. i can die now.

now the last two chapters was a toss up. for the first one was the darkling’s sacrifice. okay, so i was also spoiled by this from twitter but when i was reading the book, i keep expecting it to be brought up and it wasn’t. so i honestly thought that maybe that spoiler was a prank. lo and behold it was not and it wasn’t until the very last end. so the buildup was goddamn awful. the whole concept of the thorn wood and sort of atlas moment was just no. like you’re just springing this up now? when we’re supposed to be tying up loose ends but making sure it had history and buildup to well, back it up.

also leigh outright writing genya saying it was not a redemption for the darkling and him being unapologetic about his crimes (basically being a truly evil asshole) doesn’t remove the fact that it still comes off as a redemption arc especially with what is now the synopsis of SOC 3 but ill get to that. he still was the one who did a heroic deed and that fucks me up because it was just devastating to me after making peace with his end in ruin and rising. not because i was hurt that he died yet again boohoo but because it kind of invalidates everything that alina, genya, zoya and countless other victims went through.

on a side note, the darling stans on twitter who keeps defending his actions, i would really advise you to reflect on your decisions cuz it is honestly unhealthy. also, you lot talking smack about nikolai and zoya refusing to sacrifice their lives? stop twisting the story to suit your toxic admiration, nikolai was even first to offer up his life and would do so if it was actually possible. so just go hide in your darkling cocoon and stop hating on other characters to justify your favored aleksander.

the very last chapter aka coronation was good because it gave us inej ghafa cameo as captain of her ship and bonding with our resident privateer and also genya, alina and zoya bonding. but it was bad because apparently the darkling chronicles is still not over and now we’re supposed to grant him death like that’s going to make everything okay? i know forgiveness and breaking the circle of hate and revenge is a huge theme in this duology but honestly, this is just too extreme. with nina it was understandable and the people she hated were born of twisted mindset and circumstances but the darkling? hahahah no. he is a literal immortal who was delusional so now that he’s paying for his crimes, you want to allow him death because you have nightmares? zoya, goddamit no! same to you genya and alina. and so this will be the plot for the third six of crows? why can’t we just stop making this about him. now he gunna steal kaz’s thunder? over my dead body.

in the end, i gave this book 4 stars in goodreads because if i ignore the darkling plot, it was a really good use of politics and fantasy merging in a storyline. i can’t fault leigh for choosing to do this since it’s still her book so i definitely don’t have a right to dictate what i expected from this. also, i have a half a mind to believe that she fell in love with ben barnes and had him in mind writing this so i really cannot blame her because i have been under that man’s charms since prince caspian came out. the spoilers i read made me more open in reading this (backwards thinking but eh that’s how i roll) so i’m not at all crushed by what transpired. it was just weird and was lackluster in its attempt to give ravka some sort of peace. frankly, i just want to read the third six of crows book to maybe find some sort of calm in all this craziness and also delve in some zoyalai fanfiction because it was a long time coming.

shameless promotion but if you guys want to check out my nikolai duology spotify playlist, here’s the link:

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writinginstardust · 6 years ago

Text

Heart Beats For You

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Request: @thats-so-bucky asked “ OHOHOH and maybe a Nikolai fic where they’re in a relationship and they’re sneaking around but maybe like Alina catches them of something? I was thinking when theyre in the Spinning Wheel? but do whatever suits you best😊 “

Warnings: suggestive themes, a little bit of bad language

A/N: yeah I changed it ever so slightly and it got way out of hand but 🤷‍♀️ It’s soooo long so if you want to read it in parts rather than all at once it will be up on AO3 in chaptered format. Anyway it’s basically a retelling of all the events at the Spinning Wheel in Ruin and Rising with you dating Nikolai in secret. Enjoy the monster.

Word Count: 10,256

“You know, one day we're going to get caught,” I breathed out as Nikolai backed me up against the wall of his room.

“No we're not. I'm far too clever for that.” He smirked against my neck and I couldn't help rolling my eyes even knowing he couldn't see it.

“Considering the excuse you just gave to bring me back here, I'm not sure you should be so confident in your abilities.”

“You're questioning my abilities now are you?” He raised his head, that smirk still playing on his lips. “Would you like another demonstration of them to put your mind at rest?”

“Not quite what I was talking about but I'm not saying no.”

“Good. That is the reason I brought you here after all.”

“Oh really? With your hand up my shirt I couldn't be sure.” Nikolai didn't dignify that with a response past a lingering kiss. He pressed himself more firmly against me, trapping me against the cold stone wall as he parted my lips with his own and deepened the kiss. Just as his hands started getting a little more daring in their movements, a loud knock sounded at the door and he forced himself to pull away with a groan of frustration.

I quickly smoothed out Nikolai's hair before straightening my clothes as he went to answer the door. Thankfully it was just Tolya, the one person in this place who wouldn't ask questions or say a word if he noticed anything.

“Sorry, I know you and (Y/N) needed some time to discuss some...private matters? But your father has discovered Genya is here and sent guards to get her. We think you should probably come and handle this.”

“Saints...this is not going to be fun at all. Thank you for letting me know Tolya, bring everyone to the war room.” The large man nodded and left without another word. “One hour,” Nikolai lamented, shutting the door and turning back to me, “could I get just one hour of peace?”

“Apparently not.” I walked over and wrapped my arms around his waist, stretching up to press a soothing kiss to his jaw. “If you want, I can set something on fire after this is sorted out. Maybe that will keep them busy long enough to give us some time alone.”

“If only it were that easy, my love.” He kissed my forehead lightly before pulling out of my embrace and squeezing my hand comfortingly. “Meet me back at the war room in a few hours when everyone's going to sleep. We can say we're planning or something and, with everyone in bed, hopefully get some peace for a little while.”

“Sounds like a plan. Let's go sort out this mess then.” With one last kiss and appearance check, we left the privacy of Nikolai's room and returned to the normalcy of the spinning wheel. Let the facade of being nothing more than life-long friends drop back into place and acted as if we weren't slipping away to make out in abandoned halls every chance we got.

It was fun sneaking around sometimes, the risk of getting caught adding some excitement to our relationship, but other times I wished more than anything that i could kiss him or hold his hand or seek comfort in his arms whenever I wanted, that I didn't have to restrict my affection to those fleeting moments we could steal for ourselves. After 4 years together, 3 of those years of keeping it a secret, it was hard not to be tired of it.

There were so many reasons we hadn't and simply couldn't tell most people but it didn't stop the longing. Even just to be able to tell our friends and get the teasing that always came from something as simple as a goodbye kiss would be a blessing, would make it all feel somehow more real. It was hard but I wouldn't give up what Nikolai and I had for anything. If secrecy was the price for the way he looked at me when we were alone and the way he'd make me feel like the only thing that mattered in this world, then it was a price I'd pay without hesitation.

I perched on Nikolai's desk, fidgeting nervously as I watched Alina and the others enter the room, all of them with heads held high. I didn't know if their confidence was real or fake but either way I was proud. Nikolai leaned casually beside me though he looked troubled which worried me even more than the dark look on the King's face. If he was looking concerned, things were bad.

"I didn't ask to see this witch," the King spat. Well we were off to a great start. "And why is your little pet still here? She has no business in these matters." He turned a glare on me and I felt my anger rising. He'd never liked me, though I had no idea why, well I might have some idea, and the feeling was mutual. I found myself wondering how mad Nikolai would really be if I set fire to his father.

I was too preoccupied with the thought to pay attention to the next exchange but Genya's "I have no betters here" brought me back and I had to resist the urge to cheer.

"If he cannot be tried for his failures as a King, let him be tried for his failures as a man." I paled at Genya's words as the King sputtered indignantly and argued with Nikolai. Knowing him and what he'd almost tried with me, I had a feeling I knew exactly what she'd endured at his hands. Whatever she'd done to him in return, I was glad of it.

"Genya Safin, you are accused of treason and attempted murder."

"If I'd wanted him dead, he'd be dead." I didn't doubt it but I was surprised she didn't want him dead. The idea certainly wasn't unappealing to me. As she explained everything to us I felt worse and worse about never trying to be a better friend to her back in Os Alta. If I didn't think she'd yell at me for pitying her, I would have given her a hug.

"Did he force you?" Nikolai asked and I could feel the tension radiating from him. Genya nodded and he turned to his father. "Did you?"

"She is a servant Nikolai. I didn't have to force her."

The small amount of control I was still holding onto went up in flames and my anger spilled over at his complete lack of remorse. I could feel the heat of the fire that engulfed my hands without looking down to see it and saw the fires lighting the room jump wildly. I knew from past experience that the glow of those flames reflected in my eyes while i was like this was slightly terrifying but I didn't care. I got off the desk but only made it a step towards the King before Nikolai's hand around my wrist stopped my progress. My flames flickered out as I turned to look at him.

"(Y/N), let me handle it," he whispered. For a long moment I just looked at him as he pleaded with his eyes for me to calm down. Everyone was watching, most still shocked from my slip in control, but I hardly noticed.

"Alright."

"Thank you."

"Nikolai, control your pet." I whipped back around to face the King and lifted a hand to send a whip of fire towards him but never got the chance.

"(Y/N)..." There was a warning in Nikolai's tone and I lowered my hand and returned to my seat on the desk. "Father, do not speak to her like that or next time I may not stop her." The King started to protest but Nikolai held up a hand and continued. "Genya Safin, when this war is over you will stand trial for your crimes against the crown." She nodded but took it well. "Father, you are ill. You have served the crown and the people of Ravka and now it is time for you to rest. Tonight you will write a letter of abdication."

He argued, of course, but he lost and was finally made to leave in defeat. He couldn’t resist one last cruel remark though. Pausing before Genya, his eyes roamed her face. “At least now you look like what you truly are,” he said. “Ruined.”

I gripped the desk to stop myself from storming over and slapping him, consequences be damned. I wasn’t the only one either. Mal stepped forward, Tamar reached for her axes, Tolya let out a growl, even Nikolai and Alina tensed up and I saw anger flash across their faces. Genya stopped anything we might have done with a hand and only then did I notice the smell of burning. I looked down to see my hands glowing against the wooden desk, tendrils of smoke curling up from between my fingers. I quickly pulled my hands away, revealing two hand-shaped scorch marks.

“I’ve really got to get more control of that,” I whispered to Nikolai as we both watched on. Genya said something that put real fear in the King's eyes before he and the Queen were escorted out.

“Well, at least it’s not my bed sheets this time,” he replied just as softly, wanting as much as I to not interrupt the raw display of emotion going on between the others. I poked his side at the smirk he threw my way.

“That one was on you. ...Did I hurt you?" I looked down at his hand but it didn't look like I'd burned him.

"No, I didn't feel a thing."

I breathed a sigh of relief and looked back at the others. To everyone’s shock David pulled Genya into a kiss and I felt a smile spread across my face. At least some good had come of all this. “Don’t be too harsh on her, she had good reason for doing what she did. I know it was bad but I think most people would have done the same in her position. I know I would have.”

“I’ll think about it. You seem to know more than I do about the particulars of her circumstances and I trust your judgement but she’ll still have to stand trial.”

“I understand, just don’t judge her too hastily.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.” I took his hand and squeezed it, wishing more than anything that I could kiss him in thanks instead.

“Genya,” he raised his voice to get the attention of the others, “when this war is over you will have to face charges and I will decide if you are to be pardoned.”

“I don’t fear your justice mon tsar.” To my surprise, she bowed.

“I’m not King yet.”

“You might as well be.” I nudged his side gently, so proud of him for having done what was needed. He was going to be an amazing King. He rolled his eyes with a long-suffering sigh before gesturing to the door.

“You can all go.” Alina hesitated for a moment at his dismissal but ultimately left without another word. The door shut and Nikolai slumped down into a chair, finally letting down the mask of the composed leader he so often wore. “Did I do the right thing?”

I hesitated a moment before answering. It was impossible to really be sure until whatever the consequences of our choices came to fruition but I didn’t disagree with the path he’d chosen.

“I think so. You were right to send away your parents, I don’t think they’re in any fit state to rule and, much as I loathe your father, showing him mercy was the act of a worthy leader. You know my view on the Genya situation but I trust that you’ll do what’s best when we have to handle that as well.”

“I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her, how much she must have endured if my father’s health is any indication.” He raked a hand through his hair before dropping his head in his hands, muffling his next words. “Does it make me a bad person that I’m just glad it wasn’t you?”

“It almost was,” I said quietly, unable to meet his eyes as he whipped his head up to look at me.

“No…”

“It’s fine, nothing happened. I was young and terrified and not in control of my power...I set myself on fire and burned his hand. He never tried again after that.”

“It’s not fine but thank you for telling me. I’m sorry you had to experience that.” He stood and pulled me into a hug which finally helped me relax. I hadn’t even realised quite how tense I’d been during that meeting but now, wrapped in Nikolai’s arms, everything felt okay again.

Hours later the halls were quiet as I made my way back to the war room to meet Nikolai. I felt like a teenager sneaking out while their parents slept to meet a lover no one would approve of, and I suppose that wasn’t far from the truth. It was unlikely Ravka would accept its King being with a relative commoner, even if that commoner was a powerful Grisha like me, well unless that common-born Grisha was also a Saint. It was something that always occupied a corner of my mind - what would happen to our relationship when this war was finally over. Nikolai claimed not to care, that if he wanted to be with me then no-one was going to stop him, but he loved our country too much to do anything that might cause any more problems. That was exactly why we hadn’t told anyone.

“If you think any harder you're going to give yourself a headache.” Nikolai’s voice startled me out of my head and I looked up to see him leaning casually in the doorway. “You don’t look happy, what’s on your mind?”

I shrugged and hoped that would be the end of it but was clearly all out of luck today as Nikolai frowned, seeing right through me. There were, occasionally, downsides to having someone know you better than you sometimes know yourself. He closed and locked the door before crossing the room and taking a seat, gently pulling me down onto his lap in the process and wrapping his arms around me.

“What is it? Are you worrying about the future again?” I nodded. It would be pointless to lie, the fact that he’d brought it up at all meant he already knew. “We’ll find a way, I promise. Whatever happens, I’m not going to stop loving you. This country and this war has taken so much already and I’m not going to let it take you away from me. You’ve been the fire that’s lit up even my darkest days and, call me selfish but I don't particularly want to part with that. Maybe that’s what Ravka needs after all this is over anyway, a little bit of light. Maybe they need you, even if they don’t know it yet.”

“How do you always manage to be so optimistic about all this?”

“Because if I wasn’t then we’d have two pessimists running this place and that would be a disaster.”

“Not a pessimist, just practical,” I mumbled.

“I know, I know. It’s pretty simple really though; I simply refuse to entertain the notion of not being with you. I don’t care what it takes, I’m not letting anything take this away from either of us.”

“But-”

“Uh-uh, no buts. Stop worrying about this, at least for now, we’re a long way from needing to think seriously about it and you already worry far too much.”

“Nikolai, we’re at war, of course I’m worried about everything, I’d be insane not to be.”

“Yes but I’m basically King now so those should be my worries not yours. Right now all you need to concern yourself is kissing me and letting me take care of you.” His voice got distinctly lower and huskier on that last point and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Is that a King’s command or a lover’s request?” I just about managed to keep my composure long enough to get that out even though Nikolai’s breath on my neck and wandering hands were doing a very good job of crumbling it.

“Does it matter? I think we both know you’re not going to refuse either way.” And damn him, he was right. I’d been waiting for and craving this all day, desperate for it after having been apart for weeks, I had no intention of doing anything else.

When our lips met the whole world melted away. The war, the future, the Darkling, Ravka, none of it mattered at all. All that existed for me was Nikolai and the love I had for him.

We stayed there for hours. Sometimes kissing, sometimes just talking, a few times doing things that would have my cheeks burning every time we had to have an actual meeting, but mostly just taking advantage of every moment we had alone. We’d told everyone we were studying Morozova’s journals and we actually did for a while, eventually falling asleep hand-in-hand on top of piles of books that would repay us with sore necks in the morning. It was the worst night’s sleep I’d had in a while and everyone could tell the next morning but I couldn’t bring myself to be bothered by it when the wake up I’d received was so wonderful. All was forgotten anyway when we stepped out into the chilly morning air and watched Alina chop the top off a mountain.

I spent most of the day keeping the Spinning Wheel running smoothly, like usual, and arranging Sergei’s transportation to Duva. I couldn’t say I was sorry to see him go after the trouble he’d caused revealing Genya’s identity. I still hadn’t decided whether it was a good idea to tell Nikolai I’d known or not. I’d been tempted to say something as soon as I’d seen her but for some reason hadn’t. It didn’t really matter now anyway. What was done was done and if I had to think about it all anymore I was going to end up with a permanent headache.

It was getting late and I’d just finished overseeing the Ibis’s departure when I was dragged off into a hallway that led to nowhere and pressed up against a wall, a hand covering my mouth to muffle my noise of surprise. The hand moved away but before I could say a word soft lips were on my own. My brain finally kicked back in after the initial surprise and I registered the person’s height, their familiar scent, the hard lines of their body which I had become very well-acquainted with. Still I pulled away for a moment, if only to tease him.

“What? Do I not even get a ‘hi, how was your day?’ before you take me up against the nearest wall?”

“I would have gotten to it eventually,” Nikolai huffed. “Besides, can you blame me? I've barely seen you today and you look positively sinful in those new trousers. Very well-fitted.” And as if he simply couldn’t help himself, Nikolai’s hands slid from my waist to settle firmly against my ass, pressing our hips closer in the process. A startled moan slipped out of me at the sensation and Nikolai grinned triumphantly. “Does that mean I get to continue?”

“It might have if you didn’t insist on being so smug about it.” He pouted childishly and I couldn’t help chuckling at how cute he managed to look. “How’s this; we go get dinner because I’m starving and if you behave yourself maybe I’ll let you have dessert later?” His pout spread into a pleased smile and he kissed me once - hard and full of promises I would most definitely hold him to, twice - softer but playful and teasing, three times - gentle, lingering, and full of love, before pulling away.

“Let’s get dinner then shall we?”

As it happened, Nikolai did behave himself and I was left exhausted but beyond satisfied by the early hours of the morning. After several minutes of laying tucked into Nikolai’s side with his fingers tracing patterns on my waist as we tried to catch our breath, I shifted and sat up, searching around for something to put on. My eyes caught on white fabric at the end of Nikolai’s bed and I crawled over to it, pulling on what turned out to be Nikolai’s shirt rather than my own before I stood to find some pants. Groans of protest and more followed me from where Nikolai still refused to move.

“What are you doing (Y/N)?” He asked as I finally located my underwear and the tight trousers that had got me here in the first place. I pulled them on quickly as Nikolai turned and propped himself up on one arm. He looked positively divine, hair a mess and skin glowing beneath a thin layer of sweat, like temptation personified. My movements faltered for a moment as I briefly considered hopping right back into bed with him and letting him kiss me senseless as he seemed to enjoy doing so much, and maybe let him do a bit more than that all over again. But I couldn’t, we both had work to do and Morozova’s journals weren’t going to read themselves.

“Getting dressed, what does it look like?” I finally answered before starting the search for my own shirt.

“I can see that, but why?”

“Because I’m not going to sit and study those saints forsaken journals completely naked.”

“I think you should, it would make the experience far more enjoyable, for me anyway. It’s late though, why don't we just sleep? It is the sensible thing to do at this hour.” It was a feeble protest and Nikolai did finally pull himself out of bed and start getting dressed as well, totally aware of just how important it was to try and find anything useful in the quest for the firebird.

“Unfortunately we can't and it’s entirely your fault.”

“How so, darling?”

“You’re the one who decided to spend hours doing something else.”

“I don’t recall hearing any complaints from you,” he teased, pulling out a fresh shirt as it became apparent mine had vanished completely and he wouldn’t be getting the one I currently wore back.

“No,” I stepped up to him with a grin and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, “no complaints here at all.”

About 5 minutes into attempting to make some sort of sense of Morozova’s scrawl I managed to fall asleep. It was hardly surprising really, it had been a long day and I hadn’t exactly got a lot of sleep the night before. I stirred a little while later as I felt a pair of strong arms lift me from Nikolai’s armchair and proceed to carry me down the hall to my own room. I snuggled deeper into Nikolai’s warmth and turned my head slightly to press my lips to his neck, not caring that anyone could see through my sleepy haze.

I mumbled what was supposed to be a ‘what are you doing?’ but came out more as a string of mostly indecipherable noises against his skin and flicked my bleary eyes up to meet his. They were soft and sparkling in the faint glow of the lamps lining the hall and I could feel myself getting lost in them. A yawn broke the little trance and I couldn’t force my eyes back open when it ended, instead opting to settle more comfortably in Nikolai’s arms.

“It’s almost 3 so I’m taking you to bed.”

“Wha...‘bout...journals?”

“I’ll finish looking through them on my own, you need to sleep.”

“...shou...help.”

“Not tonight.” He reached the door to my room and a soldier who happened to be wandering past opened it for us, Nikolai thanking her quietly before slipping inside. He set me gently on the bed, pulling off my trousers so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable before tucking the blankets over me and pressing his lips softly against my forehead.

“Good night (Y/N),” he whispered against my skin.

“-love you.” I slipped back into the realm of sleep just as the words left my lips and missed Nikolai say it back but I knew he did anyway, he always did.

A loud, insistent knocking woke me the next morning and I reluctantly dragged myself out of the comfort of my bed to answer it. It took me a moment to adjust my tired eyes to the morning light and register exactly who was there but finally I recognised Tamar waiting semi-patiently in the doorway.

“Hi?” I said, confused by her presence as my mind had still yet to fully wake up.

“Did I wake you? We’re all waiting for you in the war room.”

“Huh?” That cleared nothing up.

“To plan our trip to find the firebird? Alina and Nikolai want you there, remember?” Oh. Oh.

“Shit.” Well at least I was awake now. “Okay, give me 2 minutes.” I pushed the door to but didn’t bother shutting it properly as I pulled on my trousers from yesterday and quickly changed my shirt. A brush did little to help the mess that was my hair and I was pretty sure I probably didn’t smell great after last night but there was nothing that could be done about it now. I didn’t think they’d appreciate putting off the meeting so I could have a bath.

“Alright, sorry, let’s go.”

“Don’t worry about it. I take it you had a good night then?” Tamar’s smile told me exactly what she was getting at even if I hadn’t guessed from her words.

“What gives you that idea?”

“Well you obviously haven’t slept much and you answered the door in just your underwear and a shirt that clearly wasn’t yours. Also, and don’t be offended, but you kind of smell like you spent most of the night in someone else’s bed.”

“Saints, it was that obvious?” She nodded. “Do you think everyone else will be able to tell?”

“I’d say there’s a definite possibility. No one’s going to judge you for it though, I just want to know who the lucky guy was.”

“I’m not telling.”

“Fine, keep your secrets.” She smirked. “Was it good though?” I couldn’t help smiling myself as I remembered the previous night. This was nice too, to be able to talk to a friend about it, something normal for once.

“It was very good,” I said as we finally reached the war room. As Tamar had suspected, everyone could tell why I’d overslept the second I entered the room and I was treated to 4 knowing smirks, none more pleased than Nikolai himself. I shot him a glare when everyone moved their attention from me but he simply grinned wider and winked before turning back to the others to start planning.

It was past noon when we were finally done and I couldn’t wait to go and take my long, hot bath, but there was still one more thing I needed to discuss with Nikolai first.

“You should give Alina the ring,” I blurted once everyone else had left for lunch. Nikolai sighed and leaned against his desk, regarding me for a moment before responding.

“Why?”

“Because you know how this has to end. You can deny it to yourself and to me as much as you like but you know the truth as well as I. The alliance, her power, you’re both beloved to the people so they’d accept her as Queen and it would put potential allies minds at ease.”

“But it doesn’t have to end with me marrying Alina, it never has.”

“Stop being stubborn! I hate it as much as you do but making sacrifices is part of our job.”

“No. Not this. I won't sacrifice this. I've told you a hundred times we will find another way.” I could see his frustration growing and he was gripping the edge of his desk so hard I was worried it was going to break. 3 steps brought me before him and I reached out to cup his face, stroking my thumbs softly over his cheeks.

“Nikolai, we're running out of time and we're running out of options. We need the alliance with West Ravka, if you and Alina are together, it just might convince them.” He turned his face and kissed my palm before wrapping me in his arms and pulling me close.

“I hate it when you're right. Alright, I'll give her the ring but that doesn't mean I have to marry her. It can just be for show."

“So, so stubborn.” I shook my head at him but couldn't help my smile. “That's good enough for now but this conversation isn't over. You'll see sense.”

“Nothing's going to change you know.”

“I guess we'll see.”

Tamar didn't make it far after the meeting before realising she'd left behind some of the plans she meant to double check. She quickly turned back and reentered the war room just as Nikolai and (Y/N) were pulling out of a hug. The looks on their faces said that whatever conversation they'd been having or about to have was important but something neither really wanted to discuss.

"Sorry, did I interrupt?" She asked as she hovered uncertainty in the doorway.

"No, I was just about to go actually," (Y/N) replied, sounding ever so slightly flustered. "I'll see you at dinner," she said to Nikolai before hurrying out of the room, presumably to eat or bathe.

"Did you need something?" Nikolai asked.

"No, I left some stuff behind, Mal and I were going to go over the plans a couple more times to make sure everything's good." She grabbed the papers in question and headed back towards the door but paused before leaving as an idea came to mind. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know anything about (Y/N)'s love life would you? She was very secretive about it and it's got me curious."

"I might know a thing or two," he replied, that unbearably smug grin spreading across his face.

"Could I convince you to tell me? Maybe start with who it is?"

"Ah, I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

"Why not? You don't know?"

"I know the guy, very well actually, but I'm slightly frightened of the prospect of her setting me on fire if I tell." After seeing (Y/N) in action on several occasions, Tamar could understand that particular fear. "What I can tell you though is that they've been together a long time and he loves her more than anything. He's told me there's no other girl for him and he wants to be with her forever."

"Sounds like a romantic. Why is it so secret then, and why hasn't he proposed yet?”

“There’s some...potential issues with that, a lot of people might not approve. He doesn’t care but (Y/N)'s worried about it."

"That's ridiculous."

"I know, she's always put everything before her own happiness though and she cares too much about what it could mean for him."

"Damn. He should do it anyway. (Y/N)'s amazing, he's a lucky man."

"He sure is." Nikolai had a wistful smile as he said that and Tamar furrowed her brow in confusion but decided not to question it.

"Well, I should get going, I can hear food calling me."

"Of course. I need to talk to Alina anyway. Enjoy your lunch."

"Thanks, enjoy...whatever you spend your time doing." And Tamar left.

I watched Nikolai and Alina from the mess hall while I ate a quick lunch, my hunger having won out over my need of a bath. I saw her shock as Nikolai handed her the admittedly impressive ring and watched as later she attempted to return it to him. Too stubborn, the both of them. I sighed and rose to seek the out the peace of the baths, at least there I could escape from stubborn leaders and needy soldiers for a while.

After dinner Genya and Tamar invited me back to the girls room to hang out with them for a while. I figured Tamar was probably after more details about last night but i was more than happy to come along anyway. Not long after we arrived, Alina knocked on the door and brought us back to her room. The clothes Nikolai had picked out for her covering almost every inch of space. The girls had a great time picking out dresses for a bit before Alina brought up the ring.

“There's something else,” she said and set it on the table. The girls looked at it in shock and awe, Genya finally asking what everyone was thinking.

“Did he propose?”

“Not exactly,” Alina admitted. I sighed and threw my head back against the seat I'd been leaning on. I'd hoped he might just do it after our talk but apparently not. She turned to me at the movement, a brow raised. “You knew, didn't you?”

“I did. He was supposed to propose properly.”

“Why didn't he then?” Tamar asked.

“I have no idea.” I hoped they couldn't see through my lie.

“Will you say yes?” Zoya questioned as she set down the ring.

“He didn't actually propose.”

“But if what (Y/N) says is true, then he will.”

“Maybe. I don't know.” I couldn't help being slightly pleased at that. I may have been the one insisting this was how it had to be but it didn't mean I had to like it. Zoya snorted and told Alina she'd never hated her more, getting what I suspected was a much-needed laugh from the girl.

“It would be something special,” said Tamar, “to have a Grisha on the throne.” She glanced over at me briefly and I froze, she must have figured it out somehow, or at least be suspicious.

“She's right,” added Genya. “To be the ones to rule instead of just to serve.” They all wanted a Grisha Queen and I couldn't disagree. A Grisha on the throne, it really would be amazing, and if I could get Nikolai and Alina to stop being so stubborn, maybe it could happen.

I'd been in my head for too long and didn't notice the girls joking around with a very revealing lacy dress until Tamar addressed me directly.

“Maybe (Y/N) should take it, I'm sure her man would love to see her in it.” There was a glint in her eye that said I was definitely not getting out without giving her the information she wanted. She was right about the dress though, Nikolai would love it.

“Oooh, and Who might that be?” Zoya asked and all the girls were suddenly very interested in me.

“He will remain nameless.”

“That's no fun,” Nadia frowned at me.

“So that's why you looked like you hadn't slept a wink this morning,” Genya grinned and I felt my cheeks burning.

“I thought you'd said you and Nikolai were going to look through Morozova’s journals last night.” Alina looked mock betrayed at my ‘lack of commitment’ but her smile told me she didn't care much.

“I did that too!” I protested.

“Must have been a very long night then.”

“It was sooo I should probably go and get some sleep.” I stood and started to make my escape.

“Run away all you like, we will be getting those details out of you sooner or later.” Genya called after me.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I yelled back.

“Okay, who’s helping me figure out who (Y/N)’s dating?” Genya asked after (Y/N) had made her escape. Nadia, Tamar, and Alina volunteered immediately, all of them intrigued by the girl’s unusual secretiveness. Only Zoya didn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, I want to know too, but I’m not willing to put the effort in myself. Let me know when you figure it out."

"We should ask Nikolai," Nadia suggested. "They're so close, he's bound to know something."

"Way ahead of you. I asked him this morning but he won't tell."

"What about some of his rogue Grisha? Or the soldiers?"

"You're a genius. Nikolai said they've been together for a while so there's no way someone around here hasn't noticed something." Tamar pulled Nadia into a kiss that had everyone averting their eyes until it was over. "I'm going to ask around, anyone want to help?"

"Count me in," Genya said and Nadia nodded her agreement.

"Alright, let's go." They said goodbye to Alina and Zoya and left.

"So who do we ask?" Nadia questioned as they scanned the Spinning Wheel for anyone who looked like they could know something.

"Nikolai said to talk to someone called Nevsky if we ever needed anything? He sounds like a good bet." Genya said.

"Let's try him first then." Tamar wandered over to the closest soldier. "Hi, we're looking for Nevsky, you wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

"You're in luck," the soldier said and pointed over to the mess hall. "Busy day so it's a late dinner for him. He's the one in the blue coat."

"Thank you." She gestured to the others to follow her over to where Nevsky sat with a couple of guards and Grisha.

"Ah, Tamar, Genya, and Nadia is it? What can I do for you?"

"We've got a few questions we think you might be able to help with. You practically run this place when Nikolai and (Y/N) aren't around right?"

"I do."

"So you know almost everything that goes on around here."

"I suppose so."

"Great," Genya was beaming, "so who's (Y/N) hooking up with?" Nevsky almost choked on his mouthful of food, clearly not expecting that.

"I...uh...don't know actually. I wasn't aware she was with anyone. The only person I see her with with any frequency is Nikolai but I doubt it's him, they broke up a few years ago."

"Wait, (Y/N) and Nikolai were together!?" Tamar asked in shock. Nadia, Genya, and a few of the others at the table seemed just as surprised by this information but Nevsky just nodded as if everything was completely normal. "That girl is really good at keeping secrets."

"You can ask around the soldiers," Nevsky suggested. "They're always gossiping so they could know something that might help but I've got nothing, sorry."

"Thanks for the tip." The girls stood and left Nevsky to his dinner, splitting up to question whoever else they could find. Unfortunately, no one seemed to know anything though the one guard who got fidgety when Tamar asked her definitely knew more than she was letting on.

"I'm calling it," said Genya when the three met back up. "We're not getting anywhere with this."

"You're right. Either no one knows or they're all very good liars. We're not going to get the answers we want," Nadia agreed. "I think it's time we give up and go to bed."

Tamar still had a suspicion that at least one of the soldiers knew something but it was getting later and later and she had to agree that sleep was starting to sound very good. She said goodnight and kissed Nadia goodbye before heading back to her own room, mind still trying to figure out the mystery.

"You," I pointed an accusing finger at Nikolai as I barged into his room, "are so going to pay for-" the threat died on my lips as I caught sight of him. He'd just bathed and still had water dripping from his hair and running down his chest. I watched one droplet intently as it slid down his toned stomach and disappeared beneath the towel wrapped around his waist. All these years and still I wasn't used to this, to him.

"For what?" He raised an eyebrow. "Something the matter?"

"No, I mean yes." I shook my head to clear my thoughts. "Thanks to you everyone knows I have a secret relationship and they won't stop asking about it."

"Do you want me to be sorry for everything I did last night?" He asked, his smirk telling me he already knew my answer.

"...No. You could be sorry for acting so smug about it though."

"I could...but where's the fun in that?"

"You're unbearable."

"Unbearably handsome?" He winked and walked over to shut the door I'd left open in my surprise.

"Just unbearable."

"I'm hurt." He stepped up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, hands sneaking under the hem of my shirt. Pressed flush against my back he was doing a good job of overwhelming my senses as he leaned in to brush his lips over my neck. "Now, did you come here just to tell me off or is there something else you'd like from me?" The sultry tone in his voice sent heat rushing through me and I groaned, part from his insinuation and part out of irritation at my scolding being derailed.

"Must you insist on distracting me from why I came to talk to you?"

"Did you come to come to try and convince me to be sensible and propose to Alina?"

"Among other things, yes."

"Then I will insist. Personally, I think you could use some distraction anyway but I can stop if you'd like?" He didn't though, just kept leaving teasing kisses up the length of my throat.

"No," I sighed. "You're right. Distract me, please."

"It would be my pleasure, darling." And mine it would seem.

I fell asleep soon after, trusting that one night without returning to my own room would do no harm. Sleeping in Nikolai's arms wasn't a luxury I could indulge in often and rational thought was no match for how much I wanted it.

Of course it was just our luck that someone would come knocking in the middle of the night.

"Nikolai, sorry to wake you but this is urgent." Tamar said after Nikolai had thrown on some clothes and answered the door.

"What's wrong?"

"I'll let Alina explain. Meet us in the galley as soon as you're ready, I'll go fetch (Y/N)..." Her brows rose as I shifted in Nikolai's bed and she realised I was there. "Oh...she's here?"

I could see the cogs turning in her head and just hoped Nikolai thought of a good reason. Saints knows I was too tired to.

"Yes, we had some things to discuss and she fell asleep here so I let her stay." Well it was as good an excuse as any.

"...Okay. Well that makes my job easier. Don't be long, Alina and David are getting antsy."

"We'll be right up." Tamar nodded and left though not before eyeing me suspiciously once more.

"For saints sake, can I get just one good night's sleep?" I groaned.

"Apparently not. Isn't leadership fun?" Nikolai tossed me my shirt from where it had been left on his armchair and I realised that most of my clothes had been left strewn around the room. Hopefully Tamar hadn't noticed.

"No. I hate it."

"That's the spirit. Come on, we better not keep them waiting.

Tamar kept quiet throughout most of their meeting, her focus and curiosity on the Prince and his sleepy right hand. She hadn't failed to notice the clothes that had been haphazardly discarded around Nikolai's room when she'd come to get him or that some of them didn't appear to be his, and was almost certain by now that he and (Y/N) were together. It would explain a lot, especially the secrecy.

Alina had barely finished explaining what they'd discovered before (Y/N) began drifting off, casually leaning her head on Nikolai's shoulder. He didn't even seem to notice, carrying on with the conversation and strategizing as if it happened every day. For all she knew, it did.

When he moved to pour himself another cup of tea the movement dislodged the girl and she ended up laying with her head cushioned in Nikolai's lap, only the faintest grumbling indicating that she'd noticed at all. She was unconscious again in minutes. Again Nikolai paid the situation and contact no mind but occasionally ran a gentle hand through her hair. That about did it for Tamar. They were definitely more than friends. It wasn't what she'd expected but she the more she thought about it, the more she realised they were pretty much perfect for each other. And she couldn't deny they were cute, not with the proof of that sitting right in front of her.

Satisfied that the mystery was solved she diverted her full attention back to the matter at hand.

They planned for the rest of the night, through the small hours of the morning and into a new dawn. Tamar was exhausted by the time they’d finished but it was straight back to work for her and everyone else. The only one who seemed to have any energy left was (Y/N) as Nikolai had allowed her to sleep through the whole thing. She might have resented her for it a bit if the girl hadn’t looked in sore need of sleep for days.

As Nikolai left to write letters, (Y/N) to oversee preparations for the Kingfisher’s arrival and departure, and Alina to see Baghra, Tamar headed back to her shared room to take a nap. Saints knows she needed it. She might have slept all the way through lunch if Tolya hadn’t woken her coming to take his own nap.

“It’s Nikolai,” she said, not bothering to greet her friends as she joined them in the mess hall.

“What?” Alina furrowed her brow, confused by Tamar’s abruptness.

“The person (Y/N)’s been seeing, it’s Nikolai.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, have you lost your mind?” Zoya asked, clearly not believing it. Looking at the faces of the others, she wasn’t alone.

“He literally proposed to Alina yesterday, why on Earth do you think it’s him?” Genya questioned. Alina was frowning as if thinking it through and her face was beginning to show signs of understanding.

“If you recall, he didn’t actually propose to me,” she said slowly. “Just... gave me the ring.”

“But that was as good as a proposal and (Y/N) said it herself. He was going to propose.” Zoya pointed out.

“But he didn’t, and that would explain why.”

“I have to admit, it seemed more like it was an obligation than something he chose.” Alina paused and looked to Tamar. “It’s not much evidence though, I assume you’re going on more than that?”

“Oh I definitely am.”

“Alright then, tell us.”

And so Tamar explained everything that had led her to her conclusion. The fact that they were far too good friends, especially for two people who had a romantic past, the hug and flustered (Y/N) she’d walked in on in the war room, the silent conversations they’d had when Genya had confronted the King. How she’d found (Y/N) the morning after Sergei had left, the fact that she was supposedly studying with Nikolai the night before, the wistfulness in Nikolai’s voice when he’d told her about why there’d been no proposal. She revealed how just last night (Y/N) had been sleeping in Nikolai’s bed, the female clothes she’d seen tossed haphazardly around the room, how tender she’d noticed him being while (Y/N) slept through their meeting.

“And to top it all off, no one around here - and bear in mind that these are the people who spend every day with her - can think of anyone they see her spend any time with. Except Nikolai.”

“Saints, I think you’re right,” Alina breathed out once Tamar had finished talking. Nadia, Genya, and Zoya were all staring dumbfounded at the revelation but were clearly all starting to accept that it was true.

“It all makes so much sense, how did none of us notice anything though?” Genya asked. “And why did he give Alina the ring if he’s in love with (Y/N)?” They all thought for a moment.

“Alina, didn’t you say it seemed more like something he had to do than something he wanted to?” Tamar asked and Alina nodded. “Then I think I might know why. (Y/N) knew he was meant to propose and she was definitely lying when she said she didn’t know why he hadn’t right? Well I was talking to Nikolai and he said that whoever she was with hadn’t proposed, even though he wants to, because (Y/N) was worried a lot of people wouldn’t approve of them together, because of her. She puts everyone first and I think she told Nikolai to propose to you because tactically and politically it’s a smart move even if it hurts her and isn’t what he wants.”

“Well I’m going to have to do something about that,” Alina said after a moment. “They deserve to be happy and I’ve always hoped that if I married, I’d marry for love anyway. It wouldn’t be love for me with Nikolai.”

“You’re far more noble than I,” Zoya smirked. “Sod true love, I’ll take the ring and the handsome prince that comes with it.” They all stared at her for a moment. It was a very Zoya thing to say but even she loved (Y/N) so they were all a little surprised. “I’m kidding, I wouldn’t be as courteous if was any of you though.” That was more like it.

“So you’re going to give him the ring back then?” Genya finally asked.

“I am. I just hope (Y/N)’s got a strong wrist. This thing is huge and I expect to see her wearing it very soon.”

It was evening when I awoke from the nap I’d decided to take not long after lunch. After several nights of almost no sleep I desperately needed it but I also needed to talk to Nikolai after he’d interrupted me last night. I found him in the war room writing yet more letters.

“What can I do for you, my dear?” He asked after I shut the door behind me, not looking up from whatever he was writing.

“We need to talk about Alina and the ring again.” He sighed and finally stopped writing.

“We’ve been over this…”

“You need to do it, properly this time. We need the strength of that alliance more than ever now, especially after what Alina told us last night.” I had to fight to keep my voice steady as I felt my heart breaking in my chest. Despite what I’d been saying and how much I’d been pushing for him to do what needed to be done, I’d harboured a tiny shred of hope that Nikolai really would find another option but our time was up, nothing was coming to save us from this fate and now we had to face it and do what needed to be done.

“(Y/N) I…”

“It’s okay, it’s what we signed up for. I’m thankful for the time we had but now we have to do our duty.” Tears threatened to fall and I took a steadying breath. They would only make this needlessly harder. “Do it tonight,” I said before heading for the door where I paused. “I love you Nikolai, and I think I always will. Don’t ever forget that.” And before he had a chance to respond, I left.

I contemplated hiding out in my room for the night and crying but there was no use in it now. Instead I made my way up to the Spinning Wheel, just as a flash of light crossed the sky. Then another. And another. A meteor shower. I itched to get Nikolai so we could watch it together as we had many times before but I couldn’t and that’s when it really hit me. Everything I’d taken for granted for so long now was gone and I had to adjust to life without Nikolai by my side at every step.

I let the tears fall down my cheeks as I watched more and more lights streak through the sky. It was as if the sky wept with me. Mourned for the love that was sacrificed tonight. I walked outside onto one of the terraces, not bothering to pick up a coat, and looked to the sky. There, alone in the dark, with nothing but the stars for company and my flames to keep we warm, I let myself crumble and when at last I was done I picked up the pieces and tried to put myself back together again. There were bits missing where Nikolai used to be but I rebuilt enough that when he came to join me he found a person rather the fragments of one.

Alina felt her jaw drop as she and Nikolai entered the Spinning Wheel and she caught sight of the stars falling around her.

“Meteor shower,” Nikolai supplied as he walked her through the crowds of of people watching the skies from the floor.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed out.

“I told you I had a lot of money.”

“So you arrange celestial events now?”

“As a sideline.” They stood and watched the stars for a moment before Nikolai led her off to one side where there was a little more privacy. He was tense and Alina knew he didn’t want to do whatever he was going to.

“Alina, on the very slim chance that we survive the next few weeks, I’m going to ask you to be my wife.” He stared straight ahead as he said it and Alina didn’t look at him either. She’d suspected this was coming but it was harder than she’d thought it would be. The strain he couldn’t hide in his voice hurt her to hear, knowing that he wanted something else, someone else, but would sacrifice his happiness for the sake of his country.

“No,” she said quite simply.

“I’m sorry?” He did face her then, clearly not having been expecting such a blunt refusal.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He furrowed his brow. “I could lead the Second Army, and you could have pretty much any girl you want.” She gave him a pointed look which he somehow didn’t notice, continuing with the act as if he hadn’t been making it obvious he didn’t want this.

“A Shu princess? A Kerch banker’s daughter? A Ravkan heiress?”

“Or another Grisha like Zoya…”

“Zoya?” He was startled at that.

“Or perhaps…(Y/N)?” He froze, his confident mask dropping, though she wouldn’t have noticed had she not been looking at him.

“Tragically unavailable to the attentions of a prince I’m afraid.”

“Nikolai, you can stop pretending. I know you’re in love with her and I know about your ‘secret’ relationship.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.”

“Yes. You do.” She pulled the ring out of her pocket and pressed it into his hands. “I won’t accept this ring just as I won’t accept any proposal from you.”

“I told you you could keep it anyway.”

“It’s not mine to keep.” She smiled up at him. “This ring, like this,” she tapped a finger against his chest, right over his heart, “belongs to someone else. She’s an overpowered Grisha too but she’s not me.”

“Alina…”

“Don’t try to argue, I know this is what you want. If we were to marry, none of us would ever truly be happy. You said that maybe in time we could be but we both know that’s not the case. The four of us would spend the rest of our lives longing for a love we couldn’t have and maybe you could live with your own heartache and maybe I could live with mine but neither of us would be able to live with theirs.” She paused and looked him dead in the eye, something fierce burning in her own. “Go to her, give her the ring, marry her when this war ends. Let this love story be one with a happy ending.”

“She’ll tell me not to, that we have to do what’s best for Ravka.”

“Ravka will accept her as queen, they’ll adore her. She’s exactly what the people need. You both are.”

“Thank you.” It was the most sincere he’d ever sounded and she smiled.

“Make her happy, Nikolai.” She lightly shoved him in the direction of the west terrace where to floating balls of flame were flickering, the indicator of a certain overpowered inferni. Nikolai threw one last smile over his shoulder at her before stepping out into the cold and hopefully into a future with the girl he loved.

“Hi,” Nikolai said as he stepped up beside me.

“Hi,” I whispered back. I couldn’t look at him, not without falling apart all over again, so I watched the stars instead.

“It’s a bit cold out to not be wearing a coat, don’t you think?” I let the flames encompassing my hands snake all the way up my arms, their heat comforting rather than burning me just as it always had.

“I think I’ll be okay.” A small smirk managed to find its way onto my face and I was surprised at how easy it actually was to smile like nothing was wrong. I just hoped that in the dark he couldn’t see how my eyes were red-rimmed from crying.

“I don’t doubt that. Somehow you’re always okay.” If only he knew how wrong he was.

“And somehow you always are too.” I nudged his side. It was quiet for a long moment as we watched the sky, neither of us quite sure how this new relationship should work.

“It really is spectacular, isn’t it?” Nikolai finally said.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never quite managed to get used to it.”

“True beauty never stops taking your breath away, no matter how many times you see it.” I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the stars anymore but I couldn’t let us wander back down that path no matter how easy it might be or how strong the pull.

“So how come you’re not in there with Alina? I would have thought this was the perfectly romantic time for a proposal.” I didn’t really mean to ask but the words came out anyway and I immediately focused very hard on the falling stars around us, pressing my lips tight together to avoid saying anything more.

“It is. That’s why I'm here." I could feel his eyes on me but i kept mine fixed straight ahead. “(Y/N), Alina won’t marry me and I do not wish to marry her either.” I sighed and shut my eyes tightly. Why was I the only one around here capable of making sensible decisions?

"Nikolai...we've been over this. It's not about what any of us want, it's about what we have to do."

"No. It's not. I promised you I wouldn't let this war or our country take you away from me and that is a promise I do not intend to break."

"Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"You're the one making it harder. I know you only want what's best for Ravka and you think that's Alina but you're wrong. You are what Ravka needs and Alina agrees with me."

"She does?" Again I hadn't meant to ask but a tiny, selfish spark of hope had lit up inside me.

"Yes, and you can't argue with a saint."

"I can try."

"I'd like to see that. I've yet to win an argument against our lovely Alina."

"I have." I smirked.

"And my pride takes yet another blow." He clutched his chest dramatically and I couldn't help but laugh which was rewarded with a smile that made my heart stutter. But then he was serious again.

"(Y/N)," he reached out to brush back some of my hair, letting his hand linger on my cheek as he looked at me like I was his whole world. "I love you, as I've never loved another before and will never love another again. You are everything to me. My strength, my light, my life. I never wish to part from you. I don't know what lies ahead or if we'll even live to see this war end but wherever this path leads there's only one I want walking it beside me. For the rest of my life, there's no one I want to to spend it with but you." He dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from his pocket. I was suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to breathe. Tears gathered in my eyes, blurring my vision as Nikolai took my shaking hands in his.

"You don't have to say yes but my heart is yours as long as it continues beating and there is nothing in this world that would make me happier than you becoming my wife. (Y/N), my love, my life, will you marry me?"

And in the quiet of the night, with only the stars to bear witness, I choked out the words I'd never allowed myself to dream I'd get to say. "Yes, Nikolai...I'll marry you."

Tag Lists: (send an ask if you want to be added!)

Everything: @wonderfilledness

Grishaverse: @thats-so-bucky

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai x reader #Grishaverse #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse imagine #ruin and rising #reader insert

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whippedkoalas · 6 years ago

Note

Hi! I just wanted to ask whether you plan to write a fic for William’s birthday? It would be so lovely!

Hey! thank you so much for your ask.

Actually, I did! It’s not quite as happy as I wanted but well. I hope I haven’t made too much mistakes and that I managed to get the age right, lol.

Happy Birthday, William!

January, 10th 1997, 21:13

Marit Magnusson gives birth to her second son alone in a private clinic of Oslo. Her husband should have been there and she tried to wait for him, hoping he would support her. She has given birth before and she didn’t think she would do it again anytime soon. But David didn’t care about Nikolai, and he wanted to have his own son and she desperately wanted David to stay. She thought he would care.

The nurses have this look on their faces, they feel sorry for her.

William is born at 21:13. He’s tiny and when she puts him on her chest, William makes a sound that makes her smile. She’s tired, sad and disappointed but William is here now and maybe things will change. David will focus on William, now.

William will probably walk on his father steps and be a smart, beautiful and charismatic businessman.

She doesn’t feel like a mom yet, but her heart is full of love for this tiny human.

January 10th, 2000.

William is three years old, Amalie two. William doesn’t fully grasp what a birthday is, he is just happy to have gifts.

When he opens it, it’s a car. He’s ecstatic and can’t wait to play with it. He also gets lollipops. He knows Amalie loves the strawberry ones so he shares with her.

When he looks up, he realizes that his dad left the room and his mom is on the phone. Only Anja, his nanny is looking at him and opens her arms. She kisses him and tells him a happy birthday. He stays in her embrace for a while, leaving his car just for a few seconds on the floor. Just enough time for Nikolai to destroy the car.

January 10th, 2003

William is six years old. He thinks he’s a grown up now. Six years is old. At school, his teacher has a birthday cake ready for him. His friends sing for him and give him little presents. He’s very happy.

Amalie is five. She is the first to tell him happy birthday because they’re sharing a room. Amalie doesn’t want to sleep in her room, because she says Nikolai loves to scare her during the night when she’s asleep.

His nanny has also prepared something for his birthday and he even gets a kiss and a little moment alone with his mom. She reads him a story and tells him he will always be her baby boy, and right at this moment, he believes her.

January 10th, 2007.

William is ten years old. It’s his first birthday without Amalie. He tries to forget what day it is. But he can’t. Even if everyone seems to have forgotten.

Nobody wishes him a happy birthday, and he pretends not to care. He’s a strong boy, as his father always says. Men don’t cry is his father motto. But when he goes to bed and Amalie isn’t there anymore to take all the space in the bed, he just can’t do it anymore and cries himself to sleep.

January, 10th 2009.

William is 12 years old and he’s alone in the apartment. He doesn’t know where Niko is, and he doesn’t care. Niko had another tantrum a few days ago and he begged his mom to do something, but she had already finished her second bottle of the day and William isn’t even sure she heard him.

But his mom and Niko disappeared the next day and he has no desire to know where they went.

His father calls him. William wants to tell him about his life, the movie he saw the other day, his school project about London as he chose to talk about London because of him but his dad doesn’t have time. He promises that William will come to London soon, that he will be coming here when his father finds a great school for his smart son.

William believes him.

January 10th, 2012.

William is fifteen years old. He wakes up in the apartment and goes to the kitchen. Niko made a mess as always. He’s too tired to fight him again.

He wants to throw Niko out. He even called their mom and told her that Niko was out of control again but she said that it wasn’t her problem. Whose problem it is, then?

William looks in his school bag to read his English paper again. He has to hand it to the teacher in class today. The paper isn’t there anymore. William is 100% sure he put it in his bag when he finished. There’s only an option left. He foolishly told Niko he was proud of him for that homework.

Niko. He is going to kill him.

He wants to barge in his room and wake him up just to kill him but someone is knocking on his door.

It’s Chris.

Chris calms him down. He knows about Niko. They met in class and Chris is great. He doesn’t ask questions, he just knows. Niko tried to be friends with Chris, telling him secrets that weren’t true about William, but Chris didn’t even listen to him.

William finds his draft in his room and writes it again quickly, with Chris’ help.

Chris invites him at home, where his mom is waiting for him with a birthday cake and a present. She kisses him and gives him a hug. She refuses that William goes back to the apartment after dinner. When the boys are going to bed, she hugs him a bit longer and whispers to him “you know you can stay as long as you want right?”

She knows too.

January 10th, 2015.

William is eighteen years old. Finally, he’s an adult now.

His dad calls, but he’s busy. He tells him that as soon as he graduates he can come live with him in London as planned.

He doesn’t want to believe him just yet, because his dad promised him that he would stay in London with him when William was 9. Almost ten years later and his father hasn’t fulfilled his promise yet.

He spends the day with his friends and it’s a simple but great birthday. One of the best so far.

January 10th, 2017.

William is 20 years old and wakes up with a headache. As always. He looks around him and his room is a mess.

He wakes up alone, thankfully but he has a weird feeling, something that he can’t explain. He realizes that he dreamt of Noora, for the first time in a really long time. Usually, he dreams of Amalie.

He doesn’t know if Noora is thinking about him. Maybe she will send him a birthday text?

He realizes that he has spent ten birthdays without his sister and suddenly it’s just too much for him.

For the first time in ten years, he cries himself to sleep.

January 10th, 2019

The first sound William hears when he wakes up is Noora wishing him a happy birthday. She snuggles against him, a smile on her face.

They probably should leave their bed but neither of them seems very keen on this idea.

Noora kisses his cheek and turns over. She takes a plate and puts it on their lap.

So she did leave the bed.

“surprise. Breakfast in bed. I guessed we will hide there all day. Does that sound right?”

William doesn’t hesitate and says yes.

She prepared a quite healthy breakfast because she is trying to introduce him to healthy life since they moved into their new apartment just a few weeks ago.

But she also brought waffles and pancakes because she knows he loves that.

William eats in silence.

“best birthday ever!” he says, still eating a pancake.

Noora laughs.

“thanks but surely not.”

“well last year was great, that’s true but I mean it”

Noora sits up a bit.

“How was it when you were a kid?” she says tentatively. She doesn’t want to kill the mood.

“mostly lonely. Spending my day waiting for my dad to call, hoping my mom wouldn’t drink too much,” he replies, not meeting Noora’s gaze.

“no birthday parties?” she asks.

“when I met Chris and the boys, yes. Chris tried to organize something every year. His mom baked cakes and had always a gift for me. But I was already a teenager.” he explains.

Noora nods.

“that’s lovely of her. Your mom never did that?”

“real birthday parties? No. We used to celebrate together but when Amalie died she said there was no reason left to celebrate. So she acted like it was a day like the others.”

“that's…. Ugh. So insensitive of her.”

“I told you she was a cunt. You called me out.” he points out, jokingly.

Noora smiles and kisses him.

“What do you want to do today? We could do something fun or maybe ask your boys if they want to have dinner? The party is on Saturday but that doesn’t mean we can’t make your birthday a special day”

William shakes his head.

“I want to spend the day with you. Chilling at home is more than fine” he replies pointing to the window. The weather isn’t that nice today.

“that’s a bit boring? If your birthdays as a child weren’t that great, we should step up our game now.”

“my birthday is fantastic already as it is. I mean it. Noora, I don’t think you realize that waking up next to somebody who loves me is already a huge upgrade for me. I don’t think you realize how you changed my life. I don’t think I have woken up on the 10th of January to someone wishing me a happy birthday for a real long time. See? My life wasn’t that bad overall but you showed me how it is to be loved and I will forever be grateful for that. Spending time with you is how I want to spend my birthday. I mean it.”

Noora is touched by his words. William is not someone who speaks a lot. The last time he said something like this was when they got back together so this is not something new to her but it’s always good to be reminded that she’s his home.

“William, it’s your birthday, shouldn’t I be the one to confess my endless love for you?” she says with a smirk.

“endless love?”

“endless love. You know it don’t you? You are never getting rid of me. Never. That’s our fate.”

“do you think fate has something to do with this?”

“yes, I do.”

William smiles at her.

“do you want to have a philosophical talk about fate on your birthday?” she asks, raising her eyebrow.

“what else could we discuss? Do you have a better topic? History? Galaxies? What car are we buying?” he laughs.

Noora sighs.

“we were having a romantic moment, William.”

William kisses her cheek.

“you’re sexy when you’re pouting.”

“that was the plan. Could you get the hint?”

William laughs. “I’m so in love with you, oh my god.”

He kisses her, with a hand on her cheek.

Noora breaks the kiss.

“that’s convenient because I am deeply, madly and truly in love with you”

“do you want to add the song to our playlist?”

Noora rolls her eyes and shuts him up with a kiss.

#noorhelm #drabble

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penciltrash-blog · 8 years ago

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[Yuri on Ice | Teen Up and Audiences | Yurio x Otabek | Royalty, ABO Dynamics AU (non - traditional), Friends To Lovers, Prince Yuri, Aged-up Yuri, Commoner Otabek]

[Read Part 1 here]

Otabek was loading his saddlebags. He carried only the very basic essentials for his journey to the neighboring capital where the Ranking tournament was held. That involved a limited change of clothing, a blanket and a canvas tarp to survive the chill of night, a water canteen, a little food and his weapons. He didn't want to burden his horse during the two day ride to his destination. He was all set to leave within the next hour.

He’d thought about paying a quick visit to the palace, mostly to see Yuri’s face and lock his scent in his memory so the separation of a whole month would be easier on him. They'd barely gotten any private moments lately as Otabek had been completely relieved of his duties for the last week. The Prince’s schedule was busy too. He'd had to welcome foreign delegates to discuss the dispute relating to the Plisetsky territory.

King Nikolai was old and on constant medication. Some of the neighboring empires were trying to take advantage of the situation. Fortunately, Yuri had returned from abroad and was effectively handling affairs but the Plisetsky kingdom needed their Alpha heir. Yuri was under tremendous pressure to select his Alpha and get mated at the ceremony on the eve of his eighteenth birthday.

The more the situation worsened, the more Otabek focussed on completing the first stage of the Ranking tournament so that he could - No, he didn't want to hype his dreams of actually proposing to the Prince. He couldn't. Yuri was a Level Ten Omega and even if Otabek somehow managed to clear the first stage, that would only involve revaluation of his status from Level One. He could rise to Level Two or at most Level Five. He'd still be nowhere near Yuri’s status and he doubted any royal in their right mind would appreciate that in a mate.

But clearing Stage-One would be his ticket to Stage Two of the tournament where the high ranking Alphas - Level Six to Level Ten - would compete to enhance their rank. Stage Two was scheduled in two months and Otabek was ready to die to reach it, if that was what it needed.

A Level One Alpha getting a Stage Two opportunity wasn't unheard of. But it was rare and tough, especially at your very first attempt in the tournament, but Otabek was determined to prove to everyone he could do it.

“Hey, brother,” Sabrina’s voice cut through his thoughts as she came rushing towards him, panting as if she'd come running a mile, her hand clutching a drawstring pouch.

“Strawberries?” Otabek enthused, snatching the pouch out of her grip. “It's so early. How- When did you even wake up to get these?”

“I know you love them.” Sabrina beamed at him. “I thought they'd be handy during your journey.”

“That's so nice of you, sister,” he wrapped his arm around Sabrina, squeezing her in a half hug and kissed her temple. He was about to take a bite of the tempting fruit when they were interrupted by a sudden noise.

“Are you trying to run away without goodbyes?” Otabek almost dropped the pouch on the ground.

“Yura?” the name escaped his mouth without his permission. He twisted his neck, checking the area to make sure the Prince was accompanied by his guards. He couldn't find one.

The Prince’s smile widened at hearing his childhood nickname, his body visibly relaxed, eyes glinting in surprise. “Thank goodness you're finally calling me that.”

“Have you tricked your guards again?” Otabek demanded, ignoring the delight on Yuri’s face.

“Well, you can't blame me. They're very slow.” Yuri walked towards him, his red tunic looking gorgeous against his pale skin. Otabek wasn't pleased about Yuri’s reckless behavior, but he couldn't take his eyes off the Prince. “They can't beat my horse riding the way you do,” Yuri continued, halting right in front of Otabek. “Plus, I wanted to give you this .” He raised his hand that was wrapped in a piece of cheetah print fabric made of fine silk.

It was a scarf.

Before Otabek could move, Yuri was already unwrapping Otabek’s usual black, cotton scarf from around his neck, replacing it with the one in his hand.

A shiver ran down his spine as Yuri’s fingers, which were rather cold in the early morning chill, brushed against his bare neck. The material felt smooth and tickled his skin. Otabek didn't want to indulge himself in guessing its price. It must have cost at least his monthly wage.

“It's for good luck,” Yuri leaned away a little to admire the view. “Looks good on you,” he added, patting Otabek’s shoulders, dusting off the non existent dirt. “D‘you like it?” he asked, eyes searching Otabek’s.

“Y-yes. Thank you so much,” Otabek finally remembered to reply, his eyes tripping over the pink blush that colored Yuri’s cheeks. “This’s beautiful,” he breathed, not sure if he was talking about the scarf anymore.

Yuri leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Otabek. “One month,” he murmured in his ear, hands at his back clutched the fabric of Otabek’s tunic. “Why do you have to leave now?”

Otabek couldn't help the way his heart stuttered in his chest. In two years, Yuri might have grown up to handle critical political issues, but when it came to Otabek, he was still the same. Possessive about his childhood friend as if his world revolved around him, like Otabek actually mattered to him.

“Will you come to watch the games?” Otabek asked, his hands looping around Yuri’s back and settling on his lean hips. He couldn't make himself hope that the Prince would have enough time to witness the tournament.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.” Yuri buried his face in Otabek’s shoulder, scenting him. “You probably won’t recognize me in the crowd of onlookers. But I'd be there. I promise.” They held each other for a long moment, breathing in each other’s scent, listening to the steady rhythm of their combined heartbeats.

They jumped apart when Sabrina cleared her throat loudly. “ Hello , I'm standing right here.”

“Oh… Sabrina?” Yuri huffed, noticing her for the first time. “I didn't-”

“Yeah, yeah. You didn't notice me,” Sabrina teased. “You hardly do that when my brother’s around, my Prince.”

“Sabrina,” Otabek warned, unable to find the courage to glance up at Yuri.

“What's this?” Luckily, Yuri’s eyes found the strawberries, saving him from further awkward comments from his sister. “... and where's my share?” Yuri complained.

Otabek adored the way the two Omegas interacted with each other. Sabrina was seventeen, hardly a year younger than Yuri, but she shared an open bond with him. Yuri’s status never came between them. Probably, it was an Omega thing, or they’d bonded over their common goal of teasing Otabek whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Your share’s safe with me,” Sabrina assured, dangling one more pouch in front of Yuri’s face. When the Prince tried to grab for it, she easily dodged him. “But… let's see Otabek off first.”

Yuri pouted but pulled Otabek into a hug anyway. “Make me proud, Beka.” He patted his back, gripping Otabek tight, close, as if he couldn’t get enough. “Come back to me soon. I'll be waiting.”

When Otabek mounted his horse, Yuri was still there. His face was a mixture of sad and happy emotions, one hand carried a pouch of strawberries and the other gripped the worn out scarf that belonged to Otabek like his only thread of life.

In the coming month, this would probably be his last look at Yuri and Otabek wanted to tattoo it in his memory. Forever.

******

Otabek listened to the closing melody of the inauguration ceremony. The tune felt heavenly in the quiet surroundings. His eyes fluttered closed, thoughts skittering back to the warmth of home, the green blanket of fresh fields, the open sound of Sabrina’s laughter, the earthy scent of his father, the frown on Yakov’s forehead, the kind smile behind the King’s thick moustache and… to Yuri’s hazel green eyes.

The moment he'd stepped inside the arena two days before, he'd been handed the key of his room which barely occupied a single bed and a wall-mounted cupboard. At least, the bedsheets were clean and that was enough for Otabek to lay down at night after finishing his routines in the practice ground.

They’d been sorted by their ranks - Level One to Five. The draws had been declared by the juries and displayed on the arena’s notice board. The entire arena had been divided to hold the level-centric matches first where all the Alphas would compete against their co-level opponent and try to score maximum points.

Stage One of the tournament involved three sports - Wrestling, Jousting and Sword Fighting. The selection was decided again by a draw.

Only one Alpha from each level was eligible to challenge the highest scorer of the next level. Generally, the Alpha’s went for a level or two up. These competitions were tiring and chances of beating the highest scorer of the next level were pretty minimal. Losing it involved a major risk of hampering your level-centric scores.

Otabek had different plans altogether. He’d been training with Yuri since he was seven and was fortunate enough to have gotten exposure to the very best guidance and techniques. Something that many high rankers never received. He wasn’t going to rush but consider each match as they came, with complete focus.

The music stopped, bringing him back to reality. The referee called out his name as his match was supposed to open the tournament. It didn't make him nervous. It was good to start early rather than having to control his anxiety watching the other contenders fight.

Otabek looked around. Only Level Four and Five matches were opened for public viewing and the stands were almost empty. All the contenders immediately headed back to their rooms or the practice ground to continue their routines. No one seemed interested in witnessing some unknown, beginner’s game.

It was a wrestling challenge for Otabek.

The points were awarded on the basis of explosive actions and risks. A wrestler needed to win two out of three games in order to win the match except when there was a Fall, where both shoulders of the defensive wrestler was pinned to the ground in total submission for a whole three seconds. Then the match ended on a Clear Fall.

Otabek bowed to his opponent, an young Alpha from the south - Kenjirou Minami.

The blonde Alpha with weird, long, red, textured locks, smiled at him and Otabek twitched his lips in reply. Of course, Kenjirou was nervous. Otabek noticed the beads of sweat that lined up on his forehead. He was lean, at least a head shorter, and the uneasy twitching of his limbs indicated he was a rookie, just like Otabek.

A sharp blow of the whistle from the referee brought him back to reality, clearing his mind of any lingering thoughts. He spread his legs, digging his leather shoes into the soft ground, taking a defensive stance.

Alpha Kenjirou though had different plans. He barged straight at Otabek, his hands spread wide, inviting and defenseless. Wrong move , Otabek remembered all the sharp smacks of Yakov’s hand on the back of his head when he’d made the same mistake repeatedly at the age of ten.

Easily, Otabek dodged his reckless advance, slipping behind his back, turning him around. He hooked his leg into Kenjirou's, toppling the Alpha backward and pinning him to the ground with all the strength he’d got in his worked up muscles. Kenjirou didn’t even get a chance to blink.

The referee looked taken aback. For a moment, he stood there frozen, clearly not expecting an ultimate move at such an early stage of the game. But then, immediately he rushed to count the beats.

One… Two… Three…

That was it. A Clear Fall.

The match was over.

Alpha Kenjirou looked bewildered, his brown eyes wide, unable to register what had happened to him. He was so baffled that he actually took Otabek’s offered hand to get back up on his feet. Kenjirou glanced at the referee, who only shrugged in response. A dead silence spread around the entire stadium at the sudden outcome of the fight.

“Aaaaaaad the winner of the Level One… Game One… by a Clear Fall is… Alpha Otabek Altin. ” Otabek’s heart was hammering in his chest as the referee raised his arm, proclaiming him as the winner of the match.

The match had finished in thirty seconds, creating a new record of the fastest win at Level One, ever.

*********

The Level One matches ran for a week.

At the end of the week, Otabek’s score stood unbeaten, the highest among all the encounters at that level.

When he read his name at the top of the chart on the arena’s notice board, Otabek felt his eyes dampen with overwhelming emotion. He knew he was capable. Of course, he did. But still the shock of the reality was a bit much to take in. That night, he slept peacefully after spending a whole week in restless slumber due to aching muscles and disturbing dreams, his hands clutching the scarf, that Yuri had given him, close to his chest.

Otabek was all set for his Level Two match.

It was a jousting challenge. A game of physical strength, balance and coordination where the two contenders rode their horses towards each other, wielding their lances. They desired a common aim of breaking the lance on the rival's armour, or unhorsing them.

“Goooood j-ob, Ebony,” Otabek cooed, slowly, making his horse understand his praising tone rather than the words. Horses didn't understand words.

Ebony was his companion for the jousting match and was assigned to him by the tournament’s officials for the course of the games. He massaged Ebony’s neck and the horse immediately leaned into the touch. Otabek smiled, rewarding him with the treat of an apple. “Uh-huh, you liked it, didn't you?”

“Of course, he loved it.” Otabek snapped his head up at a sudden remark.

It was a young man with brown eyes and dark messy hair. He looked familiar. Otabek had seen him on the practice ground during a slot designated for the Level Five Alphas. He vaguely remembered seeing him at the dormitory room that was exactly adjacent to Otabek’s.

“I'm Phichit Chulanont.” The man offered his hand, his lips curved in a smile, open and welcoming.

Otabek returned a firm handshake. “Otabek Altin,” he greeted with a nod.

“I know,” Alpha Phichit beamed at him. “We’re neighbors,” he added with a wink, noting the confusion on Otabek’s face. “I also watched your match. I must say, you were great. It’s really hard to believe that you're only a Level One.”

Otabek felt the tips of his ears burn with the compliment. He’d faced attention for the entire week. Whenever he passed along the dormitory corridors or at the practice ground, he'd felt the constant weight of it. Even though the contenders hadn't considered him a threat, they'd clearly started noticing his presence.

“I, uh- I'm trained,” Otabek stuttered, unable to come up with a suitable justification.

“I can see that,” Phichit’s eyes flicked between Otabek and Ebony. He walked towards the horse and asked Otabek’s permission to hold his reins.

Otabek allowed him, watching the Alpha with curious eyes. For some reason, it didn't raise his hackles.

“Y’know, Ebony was assigned to me last year for my jousting event.” Phichit carded his fingers through Ebony’s mane, laughing to himself at a memory of something amusing. “I didn't even know his name back then. And he almost kicked me in the face.”

Otabek snorted, shooting a matching grin at the other Alpha. Phichit might have been a Level Five, but he seemed approachable, free from the prejudice that came as a package with being a high ranker. “He's a good horse,” Otabek muttered over his smile, trying to defend his horse, mostly to tease Phichit.

“Not with everyone.” Phichit retorted, flailing his hand at Ebony as if he'd been betrayed. By the horse. And, Otabek felt his smile widen as they continued conversing with ease.

They’d both finished their practice. As they headed for their rooms together, Otabek handed Ebony over to a stable boy, collecting his armor from a bench.

“Have you finished your challenge?” Otabek asked as he struggled to balance his massive helmet in his hands.

“Not yet,” Phichit huffed out a sigh. “Let me.” He grabbed the helmet from Otabek’s hands, ignoring his hesitation, comfortably tucking it under his arm. “My game is scheduled for next week. Waiting can be really excruciating, y’know? You're lucky that you’ve finished yours first.”

“I can understand,” Otabek hummed, losing himself to the memories of the past. A cool breeze of air blew past his ears, ruffling his now free hair that had been dampened by the sweat after the long hours of heavy exercise. “I've been waiting to participate in this tournament for two years now, I wasn't eligible.”

“Whoa,” Phichit looked impressed. He turned towards Otabek, eyes wide. “How can you be ready at such an early age? Are you a royal?”

“What? No.” Otabek gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth, struggling to find his words.

“A knight then?”

“No,” Otabek croaked as he tried hard not to lose his footing on the dormitory stairs. “I just serve as the Prince’s guard.”

“Oh,” Phichit muttered, eyebrows still creased, as if he was still trying to wrap his head around the newly acquired information, probably regarding Otabek’s advanced skills and his occupation.

“His highness is very generous,” Otabek couldn't stop himself from praising Yuri. If it wasn't for him, Otabek would have been labouring on a farm for his living. “He allowed me fine training and a mentor.”

“Really?” Phichit squeaked, his eyebrows raised, touching his hairline. “It's Prince Plisetsky, right?” They’d reached their rooms and Otabek had to pause and wait for the Alpha to hand over his helmet. “No wonder my king desires him so much.”

Otabek’s heart skipped a beat. He was so taken aback by the unexpected turn of the conversation that he almost lost his grip around the armor. “Your king?” he managed to get out from his tight throat.

Phichit didn't seem to notice Otabek’s turmoil and he continued in a casual tone. “Yes. King Peter Denisovich.” He fumbled in his pocket to get his key out. “He wasn't exactly pleased when the Plisetsky kingdom didn't invite him for the Prince’s courting process.”

Otabek remembered the name. The level ten Alpha with a dozen Omegas to show off. He felt a shudder run down his spine at the thought of Yuri being one of them.

“But I can relate to your Prince’s decision. My brother’s an Omega.” Yes, Phichit was saying something and Otabek’s mind was running on a different wavelength altogether. He needed to calm down and listen to Phichit’s voice. “I respect his choice,” Phichit huffed, turning the key to unlock his door. “But again… Politics is a dirty game.”

Indeed, politics was a dirty game. Phichit’s words kept reverberating in Otabek’s mind long after the Alpha had taken his leave.

******

Otabek snapped the flap of his metal helmet closed, fixing his eyes on his opponent through its slits, taking in a deep breath to control his nerves. The armor was heavy. It suffocated him, reducing the supply of fresh air. His clothes stuck to his skin from the sweat that covered his body like an extra layer.

Alpha Seung-gil Lee, the winner of Level two, looked ready as he stared right back at Otabek, challenging him.

Otabek readied himself for the joust, holding his lance upright, contemplating the moves in his mind before the match actually began. He felt Ebony breathing below him, his hooves scraping the ground like a bull ready to charge.

“We're going to do this,” he muttered to Ebony, more to reassure his pounding heart than the horse.

For a moment, everything went eerily quiet. Otabek could literally hear the thumping of his heartbeats in his ears. Then, with a wild wave of a flag, the joust began.

Otabek kicked his heels to Ebony’s flanks, spurring his horse on to advance. The next instant, both the Alphas were at full-tilt, lowering their lances to strike their opponent. Otabek aimed for Seung-gil's body, hoping to hit a decisive blow. Seung-gil, on the other hand, raised his lance, pointing it at Otabek’s helmet.

A loud crash broke the silence.

The tip of Otabek’s lance had made the first contact, crashing into Seung-gil’s armored chest. The impact had made Seung-gil lose his aim, his lance barely brushing Otabek’s arm. Otabek watched him as he wobbled for a brief moment before getting his balance back on his horse.

“O-Kay,” Otabek breathed as he rode to the opposite end. “That was okay. That was good,” he kept chanting, patting Ebony’s neck, before the second pass began.

Seung-gil had lowered his lance, this time aiming for his rival’s chest, same as Otabek had planned. They both rode with all their might, redoubling their efforts to make the other Alpha lick the dirt. The clouds of dust were barely settling between them. Otabek coughed, his breath coming out in erratic puffs. He blinked and the next instance he was thrown back by a solid blow to his chest that made his heart stop for a moment.

He saw stars in bright daylight. Everything swirled around him as he sucked in thick gulps of air and waited for the cutting ache just below his collarbone to pass. He was hurt, even through the thick layer of his metal armor. He couldn't focus, couldn't think, but his fingers clutched at the reins for his dear life. He couldn't afford to go down, not now. Not like this .

When the ringing in his ears finally subsided, he knew Ebony had slowed down, balancing Otabek’s weight on his back, supporting him through the vulnerable moment. Even in his unsettled state, Otabek’s lips twitched into a smile. His heart swelled with silent gratitude. He owed his honor to Ebony.

“C'mon, my friend. Let's finish this,” he roared as they charged for the third pass, lance tilted high in the air, aiming straight for Seung-gil’s helmet. Ebony ran like the wind, in a mighty display of his mute agreement of Otabek’s command.

Otabek watched as the tip of his opponent's lance approached with lightning speed, aiming for the center of his chest. He knew Seung-gil would reach him first. Under the weight of the heavy metal, he tried to twist his body at the very last second in a futile attempt to escape the unavoidable blow. But still, the lance hit his shoulder. Pain pierced down his spine, numbing his brain. He knew he'd been fast and still had a strong grip around his weapon.

The next thing he knew the lance in his hand had shattered to half. He'd hit the target.

Otabek snapped his neck around, shooting a desperate glance over his shoulder even before Ebony could reach the other end. He was met with the sight of Seung-gil laid out flat on the ground, trying to get up under the weight of his armor, his horse skittering out of the field, free and abandoned.

Otabek had unhorsed the Alpha. He'd done it . His shoulders slumped as the relief washed over his whole body, making it slack.

Otabek dismounted his horse, removing his helmet with his shaking hands. He flung his arms around Ebony’s neck. “Th-Thank you,” he managed to get out of his dry mouth, voice lower than a whisper. He was trembling as the waves of overwhelming emotion passed through his gut.

“Aaaaaaad the winner of the Level Two… final challenge is… Alpha Otabek Altin. ” This time when the judge announced it, he heard a few shout outs from the crowd echoing his name. Phichit’s was the loudest.

[To be continued...]

#yuri on ice #otayuri #otaburi #Yuri Plisetsky #otabek altin #otabek x yurio #yoi fanfic #yoi fic #royalty au #abo dynamics #non traditional #medieval competitions #prince yuri #commoner otabek #omega yuri #alpha otabek #my fic #laryoificedit #larcreates

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