#SJFBSDFBJHFB

[petervel]

he’s  still  playing  chess  with  the  memories  in  his  head ;     still trying to rearrange the events of the last two hours into a story that makes sense .     they’d been on a skiff ;     he   &   lucy     ⸺     of this ,     peter is certain   (  when her name had been drawn from the  nightmare  lottery ,     peter had found a way in beside her ,     burning maps   &   intelligence from west ravka until the lieutenant had decided that the only way to suffocate this fire was with  darkness  ) .     

the rest ,     admittedly ,     will not come easily .     he remembers the markers ;     the volcra .     lucy’s  screams .     and then     ⸺     nothing .     nothing  but  light .     and yet     ⸺     as he’s led to the threshold of the general’s tent ,     unanswered questions quickly gathering dust ‘pon his tongue ,     peter is quick to realise that he may very well be the only occupant of the camp without a theory .     sun  summoner ,     are the words that the wind catch   &   carry out to his ears through the fluttering tent flaps :     already ,     he knows he’s in trouble .     

❛ please ,     just     ⸺     let me see my sister first , ❜     he mutters ,     glancing between the guards by his side with an increasing sense of desperation .     ❛ she . . .     she  was  hurt .     on the skiff .     i need to know that she’s alright . ❜     but the grisha to his left only shakes their head .     ❛ she’s in surgery .     it won’t do either of you any good to see her now . ❜     she’s  alive ,     then .     peter will have to live with that     ⸺     for now .

the tent is still ;     dimly - lit     ⸺     even as peter is brought to a halt     ⸺     but he’d have to be blind to miss the black kefta that cuts  void - like  edges  into the smoky darkness   (  if peter were indeed the sun ,    he  would  be  swallowed  ) .     he’s well aware that only one grisha in ravka is permitted to wear this colour .     

❛ i’m not what you think i am , ❜     he says finally ,     eyes tethered helplessly to the silent silhouette that faces the war table at the back of the tent ,     ❛ and if i were ,     i can’t imagine why you would let your men haul me around like an  animal . ❜     at that ,     he jerks his right arm out of a corporalki’s grasp     ⸺     though the second heartrender only tightens their hold in response ,     and peter’s subsequent surrender manifests as a  near - imperceptible  dip of his head ,     eyes dropping to the plush carpeting beneath his boots for little longer than a heartbeat .     as if the opulence has reminded him where he stands among the elites of the second army ,     his next words are quiet .     deferent ,     almost .     ❛ there’s been a mistake . . .     general .    i  didn’t  do  anything . ❜

that  feeling ,     the  one  caught  in  your  throat :     is  it  fear ,     or  fascination ?

                                 plotted  starter  for  @cairspian​ !