#mal oretsev mention

[briarmae]

Warning, long post that may contain spoilers:

I keep thinking about Netflix's Shadow and Bone and the changes they've made to the characters. (Hello, hyperfixation!)

It has occurred to me that it's not just that film producers had to make the characters more palatable or relatable for a wider audience (though, this could be an factor in the changes). Some characters are easier to bring to life on the screen, simply because the viewers/ readers do not already know what is going on in their heads. (ie: Genya, David, MAL) So this a unique problem brought about by the multiple points of view we are granted in the books.

(It's different for Alina. The first 3 books were entirely from her point of view. Now we're faced with other points of view of the same situations, so everything should feel markedly different from the books. Even if the dialog is similar or identical... (I've never liked First Person POV btw)) Seeing Alina from a point of view outside herself actually made me like her more (same with Katniss Everdeen)

But with written medium, we're given internal narration, internal growth, and internal realizations. How do you translate that to the screen?

How can they express all those inner monologues and character narrations?:

DIALOG

Certainly, the easiest way to accomplish this is by having the characters speak these thoughts aloud for the viewer. Would they make this narration to another character, or just to themselves? There are not many situations that would feel natural to have an actor monologue to themselves.

Inej's ascent of the incinerator shaft could be one, if the writing, acting, and filming all come together just right! (Grumbling to herself about Kaz, weeping over what she has suffered, asking herself if she has the strength and will to carry on when her feet are burning and she feels her strength giving out, finding a purpose beyond Kaz... it was powerful. Would it still be powerful on screen, though?)

Speaking innermost thoughts we are provided in the books -- aloud, to another character -- inherently changes the character, makes them more open. Spoonfeeding the audience! ("No saint ever watched over me. Not like you have." - Kaz in the books would NOT be there yet!)

NARRATION

Overlaid audio narration? They only did that with Mal and Alina's letters. It would certainly be an odd choice and change the tone and pace of the show. (It brings to mind the difficulty of expressing telepathy in visual medium)

ACTING

Rely on an actors ability to provide a nuanced, complex performance? (Not all actors could manage it!) Jesper could have been a one-note character, just comedic relief. Kit's performance in Season 1 added depth to the character. And this year, they provided character development in the actual script (probably after seeing how well Kit performed with the material and fan reactions to his performance).

They relied more heavily on Freddy's acting this season. He was able to express the monstrosity of Kaz, be more nuanced in his expression for care in others instead of just having the script spell it out. (Him being so verbal in his care and affection for Inej last season makes this season feel like a regression (it's just how he really is in the books))

CHARACTERISATION

Change the characters external demeanor to better suit their internal thoughts and issues? (Again, spoonfeeding the audience!)

Wylan had a very fake-it-'til-you -make-it kind of confidence in the books. He was out of his depth, and he knew it; but he was determined to survive. It was his "suprising courage" that all the other Crows noticed. On screen, he reads as more skittish than I imagined him (It's hard for me to watch sometimes). But I figure that the writers wanted to give voice to his internal hesitance, the fear from which he's been running. How would they show his doubts otherwise in this medium? (But it has the surprising result that his external confidence is the opposite of the book lol!! Wylan is very forward about romantic and physical intimacy in the show!)

FLASHBACKS

Flashbacks! Now those WORK in visual medium.

Alina (and Mal), the Darkling, and Kaz have all had featured flashbacks that give depth to the character! (and Nina had a short one) Without changing how other characters interact to them! Nice bit of storytelling, but I'm guessing extra scripts, film, time, and actors would drive up expenses for a show... Maybe that's why there's been a limited number of them? With so many characters and storyline, there can only be so much focus on one at a time...

HALLUCINATIONS

And crack!fic way of expounding on a characters internal drama! Poison! Hallucinations! To help the character themselves AND the viewers grow by exposing fears, weaknesses, and insecurities! (Three (four?) of them faced siuations that challenged their worldview and could inspire growth (Did the hallucination imply Tolya needs to address his codependency with his twin?? Does he have a deep-seated fear of harming Tamar?? Or are his fears of being without her?? We never saw his POV in the books; so, there are so many possibilities!))

I MEAN IT WORKED, DIDN'T IT LMAO

So, yeah. I get why some characters had to be made more audience-friendly.

(I don't really have a point, I'm just hoping that by putting this down somewhere, it'll help with my hyperfixation. It's gotten a bit out of hand)

[fandomrantsandtwittertakes]

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Hello! I have not read the shadow and home series, only seen the show and read six of crows (very obvious if you see my account) and I really don't get the whole "is the Darkling is evil or not", because I haven't seen arguments from the pro Darkling side and very few from the anti Darkling side... Can you explain it for me?

Hi! Thanks so much for the ask, I can definitely do my best to explain this for you but I am firmly of the anti-darkling belief so I think the best way for me to go about this is to outline common pro-Darkling points and explain why I disagree with them, and suggest that if you'd like more detail into the pro-Darkling arguments that you look through the tag, or through the pro-darklina tag <3

I just wrote a summary of S&S and R&R to the best detail that I could from memory only to remember that the entire plot summaries are available on the Grishaverse wiki (*screams*). But anyway the summaries were very long so I've cut them and if you want to check the plotlines for more detail you can do that on the wiki the summaries look really good (better than mine lol) but if there are any specific points I mention that you want me to expand on I can just let me know in the replies :)

Nb: this entire post will be spoilers for the Grisha trilogy and probably the entire Grishaverse.

Please be aware that I am going to address the backstories & traumatic experiences of several characters but most specifically Alina, Mal, Genya, and Zoya.

So I believe that the main points in the pro-Darkling argument are that he had noble causes, that he did genuinely love Alina, and that his actions are a product of the suffering he'd been through. However what I also see a lot of, though generally I avoid pro-darkling posts because I don't have any interest in starting an argument with anyone (and btw I'm going to tag this as anti-darkling and anti-darklina, which I always do when I'm talking about him so that anyone who doesn't want to see it can filter it out just as I can do with the pro-darkling and pro-darklina tags if I don't want to see them), is criticisms of Mal as the 'incorrect choice' for the final love interest and a 'bad person'.

So going point by point down these as to why I disagree with them:

"The Darkling has noble causes." -> The Darkling claims that his cause is a safer world for Grisha, and this on its surface is absolutely a noble cause. I would never deny that. The Grisha have been marginalised, abused, and oppressed throughout world history, and at 400+ years old in a pre-industrial revolution/early industrial revolution world the Darkling has seen and been subjected to a great deal of this. It is an undeniably noble goal to want to protect his people and to help them rise up. However, the Darkling can only see it come at the cost of mass death not only caused by the Shadow Fold's construction but the centuries of its presence on the continent, mass death caused by the destruction of Novo Kribirsk, direct and indirect murder of thousands of innocent lives, and the abuse of Alina, Genya, Zoya, David, Nikolai, Mal, and not only more characters we know but countless characters who encountered him during his rise, a compulsory draft for his people in the country where they were supposedly safest, brutally attacking his own mother and leaving her blind in the aftermath, and more. Now I'm not going to talk about the compulsory draft too much because I don't actually know if that was the Darkling's invention or not and I absolutely believe that the infrastructure of Ravka was designed to abuse and manipulate Grisha through nationalism (see Nina Zenik), but I think it's so important to note that after the Civil War massive strides forward are made in the treatment of Grisha in Ravka without any kind of destruction on the levels that the Darkling claimed were necessary. Nikolai disestablishes the compulsory draft but this doesn't stop the Second Army from reforming, or from Ravka sending missions to rescue at risk Grisha. The goal of these missions was still to recruit for the Army, but all individuals were given a choice and those that refused were still offered protection or safe passage. It's by no means a perfected system, but it's a great improvement from a draft that brought Zoya in at nine, Genya in at seven, Nina in so young she has no memory of her life before, and so on, and manipulated them their entire lives.

Before I let the manipulation lead me into my next point, I want to add that I also don't entirely trust a statement of the Darkling's causes being noble in the first place. On it's surface, as I said, a safer world for Grisha is an undeniably noble cause noble cause - but turning the abuse their people suffered against otkazats'ya people is not. I believe liberation that requires oppression is not true liberation. We also see that he willingly kills the Grisha teachers from the Little Palace, despite saying to Alina that he doesn't want to waste more Grisha lives, threatens the children from the Little Palace, attacks Genya for betraying him, and causes mass slaughter of anyone, Grisha or otkazats'ya, who sides with Alina. That doesn't sound like making the world safer for his people. It sounds like a power-hungry dictator using a commonly held ideology to manipulate the populous into supporting him.

That doesn't sound like protecting Grisha. It sounds like killing them.

Back to the manipulation.

This manipulation was not from the institution alone; no, it was very much directly from the Darkling. This brings me into point two - "The Darkling genuinely loved Alina." ->

The Darkling manipulated Zoya, who remember effectively grew up with him because she was brought to the Little Palace at nine after escaping her abusive mother's attempt at forcing her into marriage. Zoya was brought to the Little Palace by her aunt, Liliyana Garin. The Darkling made Zoya feel like she had to rely on him, whilst simultaneously telling her that she was special. The famous quote "You and I are going to change the world" was actually said to Zoya long before it was said to Alina, whom the Darkling used the exact same manipulation tactics against, and it was also used later in Rule of Wolves against Yuri, a monk from the Cult of the Starless Saint, who worship he Darkling as a fallen Saint. The way I read it, this is a very clear writing choice to emphasise that the Darkling does not care about any of the people he speaks these words to; this is the manipulation tactic that he knows, that he is used an unknowable number of times, and that he has had lifetimes to perfect and learn how to use it to his gain. He essentially tied Zoya's self-worth to his opinion of her, and she spent her entire life trying to be good enough for him, trying to impress him, trying to prove herself as worthy of his acclaim, of his attention, and arguably of his protection since he was her protector as a child. After escaping her mother and being brought to safety, Zoya grew up believing that she was lucky to be treated the way the Darkling treated her. In the books it's implied they may have had a sexual relationship, and this was confirmed as part of show canon during season one. Lilyana was later indirectly killed by the Darkling when he destroyed Novo Kribirsk by moving the Fold. Sometimes I'm almost glad she can never know what happened to Zoya, because she loved her and she thought she was protecting her and I think that knowing what the Darkling did to the niece she left in his care, believing that she was saving her, may very well have broken her.

When Alina arrived at the Little Palace, the Darkling discarded Zoya like a toy he'd grown bored of. He manipulated Alina using the exact same tactics that he did Zoya, which of course we see a great deal of first hand throughout the trilogy. During the process of this, Zoya suffers greatly from the process of being tossed aside. The Darkling intentionally sets Alina and Zoya against each other from day one, denying them any chance of camaraderie or realising what was being done to them. The way I read this, this was the pitting of women against each other by a misogynist, not only for the misogynist's gain but also because he actively feared the strength that they would have together. I've spoken about this before but yeah that's how I feel about it, we miss out on what could have been a lot more Zoya & Alina power and just general content because the Darkling purposefully turns them against each other. Alina starts experiencing everything that Zoya did - the Darkling makes her feel important or special on his terms, he makes her want his attention, he makes her feel like her importance is reliant on him, he makes her believe that she is incapable alone and needs him at her side, etc - and since this is all Zoya has known since childhood she doesn't know how to identify the similarities in his treatment of them as abuse but instead believes that he has lost interest in her in favour of Alina because she is more special, she is more important, she is more precious. Zoya has spent her entire life trying to be exactly what the Darkling wanted, and the way he casts her aside is so deeply damaging to Zoya because all those things he did, making her think that she was only special or important or worthy for as long as he said so? She believed them. Her self worth was so utterly destroyed by Alina's mere existence that without understanding it was the Darkling who had done that to her, not Alina, of course she hated her. The two of them overcoming this distance and developing their relationship is probably one of my favourite subplots

David and Genya both suffer at the hands of the Darkling's manipulation as well, though in different ways - and directly I want to talk about Genya but it is still more than worth acknowledging David as well. Genya was found by testers at 7 and presented to the Queen by the Darkling as a gift when she was 11. So super crazy take, I know, but I think there are ways of training someone to be a spy without giving them away into slavery. The Darkling placed Genya in the path of abuse from both the Queen and the King, and it is strongly implied that she told him she was being raped and physically abused and that he manipulated her into believing that her pain was worth something because she was his soldier. Even if she didn't directly tell him, the sexual abuse that the King committed against Genya is not a secret in either of the palaces, and is in fact part of the reason that the Queen physically abuses Genya because she takes out the anger she can't voice against the King on her instead, and the Darkling never did anything to protect her. Even when she tells Alina everything that happened to her, she says that she is his soldier and that this was her role. And after everything that she did for him, for giving her entire life up and enduring years of abuse, the Darkling turns on Genya the moment that she expresses care towards Alina. Genya was simultaneously pulled in two directions: her beauty was what, she believed, caused the King to attack her and subsequently the cause of her pain, but it was also a product of her Tailoring and without it she never would have been worth the Darkling's time. Being so thoroughly manipulated by him, she therefore believed that he beauty was what gave her worth. The Darkling knew exactly what he was doing in taking that away from her, not only the physical pain he caused her, not only the loss of her eye, but the subsequent inability to Tailor her scars and be who she saw herself as before. Genya's scars in the books are described to extend across her entire face and down her neck, down her arms, and along her hands, prompting Jesper in Crooked Kingdom to wonder "what manner of weapon" would be capable of causing them.

"The Darkling is a product of pain and abuse that he suffered throughout his life" -> yeah, absolutely. He wasn't born to be evil and I really enjoyed learning more about his childhood in the prequel graphic novel. But I don't think that excuses mass murder, or abuse, or any of his other actions

"Mal was not Alina's ideal love interest and came across as a bad person" ->

Personally I don't think Mal is a bad person, I think that he made mistakes during the trilogy but that ultimately he begins this story as a seventeen year old child solider; he is afraid for his own life and the lives of his friends, children and young adults make mistakes that older people are more aware of/in tune to or less likely to make, and the world he understood fell from his grip very, very rapidly.

I also know that a lot of people don't like Alina and Mal's ending, particularly with Alina losing her powers. (Brief explanation: Alina fakes her death and they tailor one of the fallen soldiers, Ruby, to look like her so that she and the Darkling can be burned together. Alina no longer has sun powers and Mal is no longer an expert tracker. Together they vanish to live alone in happy obscurity and run an orphanage. One day, the staff of the orphanage see a group of Grisha, including a beautiful Suli Squaller and a Corporalnik missing an eye, bring the woman who runs the place a blue kefta embroidered in gold and see that it makes her cry. They wonder if perhaps she knew a Grisha who died and has been given their kefta in commoration, but that's because they haven't seen the note inside that says "You will always be one of us" (This would be around where I start sobbing) ) Personally I think that this is a brilliant ending, with tragedy and bittersweet beauty sewn right through it. There are many implications through the trilogy that as Alina becomes more powerful she feels the pull and high that power can bring her as dangerously alluring. As she correctly identifies when she fakes her death, the people would have eventually turned on her as a heretic just as they did the Darkling. What I don't think she verbally acknowledged but that I saw as implicit in the text, was that she, like anyone may have done with access to such immense power and such a long lifespan, had the potential to become deserving of that label if she continued down the path. Alina giving up her power shows a distinct and beautiful difference between herself and the Darkling: she knew when to stop.

And she loved Mal. She loved him, and he loved her. So freaking much. Everything Mal does, every single decision he makes - even when they aren't all that smart - is born out of love for Alina. And they are both so very young.

Okay so I think that is pretty much everything I have to say off the top of my head, I hope that this was helpful! I feel like maybe a more nuanced/evenly-weighted explanation was what you were looking for and I'm sorry if this was too heavily weighted against, but people posting in the pro darkling tag will absolutely be able to explain their own arguments better than I can and I don't think I would be able to present them accurately to their opinions because they'd be affected by my own in my writing.

And, again, I am really not looking to start any kind of argument with anyone over this, I'm just explaining my reasons for where I fall and if anyone reading this disagrees then please remember that my opinions don't discredit your own, they are yours and mine are mine :) <33

Thanks for the ask! <3

[ryoryeonggu]

Alina Starkov - The Map Maker

Nikolai Lantsov - The Lucky Compass

Malyen Oretsev - The Tracker

[kanejbr3kker]

YALL I JUST BOUGHT THE ORIGINAL EDITION OF SHADOW AND BONE FOR 7 DOLLARS OFF OF EBAY I'M ACTUALLY IN SHOCK

[duncan-rohanne]

wait wait wait, so now people hate on mal being a bad boyfriend because he broke things off with alina... after she killed him.... and he died... and she used merzost to bring him back... and he lost part of himself that he had his entire life

listen, i maybe hate that ending but him needing time from all that shit he just went through, literally living to be a human sacrifice last few days, is one of the most logical things the writers written that day

[greensaplinggrace]

every day i lament the fact that mal didn't get on his knees and eat alina out as soon as he saw the expression on her face after she took the second amplifier. criminal

[lady-a-stuff]

Mal and Alina arriving in Novyi Zem pretending they are from Ketterdam when they don't even speak Kerch 😭

[biherbalwitch]

I need a word with anyone who told me book mal is just as good & lovable as show mal bc what the actual fuck? You wanna compare Mr. Slutshaming at every corner, violently possessive and making everything about him when the COUNTRY is at stake to the understanding gentle Angel™️ I saw on my screen? Put some respect on his name!

[ellewritesalright]

Nine Long Years - Part 6

Nikolai Lantsov x Rietveld!reader, Kaz Brekker x sister!Rietveld!reader (platonic)

Part 5 --- Masterlist --- Part 7

Synopsis: After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.

Author's Note: Hi! It's been a while, huh :) ? Get ready to buckle up again cause this part is another 10k words of mess and destruction <3 Hope you're ready for it. Also this part picks up directly after the events of part 5 and then takes place over a few months, so I hope it makes sense to y'all

Warnings: heartbreak, mentions of death, angst with minimal fluff in this part, mentions of sickness, panic attacks, firepox, mentions of the Hertzoon con. and if i'm missing something pls lmk

Word Count: 10,020

……….

FIFTH YEAR

You had a bag packed and ready by dawn. All you had to do was find a horse, then you'd be headed far away from this camp and the people you'd devoted so much of yourself to. Even if it pained you to leave them, it would pain you more to stay; so you snuck out of Tolya and Tamar’s tent and into the camp. You quietly approached the stable area. Not everyone was awake yet, but a few soldiers were up and roaming already. Still, no one noticed you as you went along–or, you thought no one noticed. As soon as you laid hands on one of the horse's reins, a voice called out to you.

"Leaving so soon?" 

You turned and saw Mal with his arms crossed.

"Wouldn't have anything to do with your captain and Alina's engagement, would it?" He asked.

"What's it to you?" You countered, dropping your hands to your sides.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you and him are involved. So if you leave, what's stopping him from wanting a real relationship with Alina?"

You rolled your eyes. "He can have a real relationship with whoever he wants, I don't give a shit."

"But I do." He pursed his lips and sighed. "I care about Alina, and this whole… situation with Sturmhond is stupid."

"Prince Nikolai, not Sturmhond," you corrected. "And I rather think he'd call it 'mutually beneficial' for him and the saint."

"It's a sham is what it is."

"Well, take that up with him, not me." You turned back to the horse you planned on stealing.

“Back to the topic, though. You're leaving?" 

"You're staying?" You sassed over your shoulder.

"I love Alina. No matter how angry I am with her or with Nikolai right now, I love her. So I'm going to protect her and stand by her, even when we don't see eye to eye."

You glanced back at him, voice quiet. "How can you do that?"

"Because it's always been her and me. Together. And I would rather be with her and be miserable than be without her and be devastated."

"I don't think I can do that for Nikolai," you admitted, eyes drooping to the ground.

"Do you love him?" Mal questioned.

More than anything, you wanted to say, but all you could manage was a shaky nod. 

"And how would you feel without him?"

"Terrible." You felt your blood boil at the thought of it. "But having him like this–in the night, behind closed doors–when she'll have him in every way that counts? I can't live that way."

"She won't have him like that," he scoffed. "She loves me as much as I love her, and she wouldn't have him in any way other than ceremonial. I mean, it's like a stupid show for the Ravkans, for saint’s sake."

You whipped around to him, bordering on incensed. "And when they're married, when they have to have children--heirs--what then?"

"It won't come to that. I won't let it,” he ground out, his face going red.

"You can't stop it, Oretsev."

"Just watch me, Rietveld." He looked as angry as you felt, but he took a breath and made his next words calm yet firm. "I won't let it happen. And if you stick around, there's even less of a chance it will happen."

"I can't watch this 'show,' as you put it. It hurts too much just thinking about it all; seeing it would kill me."

His face softened. "Rietveld, please, stay with us. At least until we make it to Os Alta. You could find a job in the city, or you could always stand as a private guard–that’s what I’ll be doing. And if it ever feels like too much, come talk to me. Vent to me. I’m on your side here–I hate this all just as much as you do.”

You considered his plea. You didn’t realize how this would affect him too. It felt like the lash of this engagement had only cut you, but it was selfish to not realize how others around you were bleeding. This sort of thing hurt everyone involved, not just you–though admittedly it hurt some people more. With a frown, you realized how Alina and Nikolai must also be in pain. 

But despite your deeper understanding of the situation, you couldn’t feel sorry for Nikolai–he was the one who’d dealt the blow, and he would have to lick his own wounds.

“I’ll stay,” you told Mal. “But I swear I’m not going anywhere near Nikolai. I’ll only be here to stand guard of Alina with you.”

“You realize they'll likely have to spend time together and you’ll have to see him?”

“All I have to see is Alina, he’ll be peripheral from now on.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded at him and squared your shoulders. “Where is the saint then? I’d like to start working.”

……….

At first you thought the journey to Os Alta would be no big deal, that you would be able to handle how he rode side by side with her or in a pretty little carriage while you were riding ten feet behind at all times. And it almost was no big deal, for the most part. Alina didn’t seem swayed by his joking or small talk, she was too proud to let him in after he’d lied about his true identity all the time he was at sea with her and Mal.

But it was when you stopped in all the little towns on the way to the capital that things became rough. Nikolai put on a show for the Ravkans, charming them left, right, and centre. And his pretend affections--if you could even call them pretend considering how real they looked–slowly showed more blatantly in front of the townspeople and First Army escort. His hands would linger on Alina’s as he helped her off her horse; his eyes would watch her softly, as though she was the light of his life; he spoke of her to his travelling companions and hosts with a reverence and care that made your stomach twist each time you overheard it.

You kept yourself busy, preferring to spend your time with the horses or sitting in the corner listening to the gripes and gossip of the First Army soldiers. If ever Nikolai glanced at you and you caught him, you always glared back until he looked away first. Sometimes you saw a glimmer of hurt in his eyes from your harsh stare, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel bad for him. This was his doing, after all.

Sometimes Tamar or Tolya would sit with you. They would all glare at Nikolai just like you did, though you tried to dissuade them. Well, you didn’t try very hard to dissuade them; you would give them each a look if you ever caught them doing it, but you never said anything as you were silently grateful that they sided with you. The twins had known Nikolai longer than they’d known you, and you felt weird being the reason they were icy with him. And yet, you kept repeating to yourself that this was his doing, that they were also upset about the way he treated you.

The arrival at Os Alta could not have come sooner. You were glad to be in a more permanent spot, though you couldn’t say either building would ever feel like a home to you. You were used to the open decks and low ceilings of schooners and ships, or the modest rooms of inns, or even the little farmhouse you’d grown up in. The Grand and Little Palaces were greater than any building you had ever seen. When you’d been in Ketterdam, you thought the exchange was the most massive place in the world, but now you knew you were wrong; the Grand Palace stood three intimidating stories high, with marble and gold inlaying almost everything. 

It was odd picturing Nikolai’s youth here. You couldn’t imagine being a child in a place like this; how impersonal it all felt to you, with its glimmering white walls and landscape oil paintings, but how much worse it would have been to be a kid here. You supposed that was why Nikolai had made an effort to fill the captain’s cabin on the Volkvolny with all manner of cozy blankets and furniture and knick-knacks he’d acquired from his travels.

Luckily for you, though, the only times you had to be in the Grand Palace was when you were on guard for Alina and she had a meeting or had to attend dinner over there. Most of your time was spent with Alina in the Little Palace. While still massive, the Little Palace had much more charm to it, with its lovely carvings and pearl embellishments. On days when you weren’t guarding Alina, you’d taken to sitting by the lake and watching the Second Army summoners training.

And, now that you had more officially started working as a member of Alina’s guard, the times you saw Nikolai were more manageable. Most times you saw him, there were royal officials or army generals around, so he had dialled back his smittenness with Alina compared to when you were all on the road. Moreover, he barely spoke to you, though you supposed that was because you never spoke to him. The most you conversed–though it was one-sided–was a short greeting and nod from him before you tilted your head away to watch whatever Alina was doing. He didn’t push it beyond that; he didn’t dare, knowing the anger you carried last time you two spoke. 

It felt slightly odd to you that the last time you’d actually talked to him was weeks ago when he told you of this engagement with Alina. You’d never gone that long without speaking, not since you first met him. Even before you were his second in command, he made it his mission to speak to you and every crew member on the Volkvolny at least weekly.

His greeting to you today was the same as it had become as of late. You were with Alina at a meeting of First and Second Army generals in the Grand Palace. At the end of the meeting when almost everyone had cleared the room, Nikolai approached you.

“Rietveld,” he smiled at you, giving you an almost awkward nod. But rather than keep it at that, he also said, “You look well.”

You wanted to scoff. You’d barely gotten any sleep the night before because of your nightmares. They’d returned since you started sleeping by yourself again. Night after night, you kept waking up having relived your brothers’ deaths, and there was no one with you to help you through it. 

You tilted your body away from Nikolai, doing your duty as you looked at Alina. You knew she was safe since she was just speaking with Mal, but you needed the poor excuse to turn away from the infuriating man beside you.

“I thought you might like to know that a team of Fabrikators and I are rebuilding the Hummingbird after the crash through the fold. It will be docked at the lake behind the Little Palace, so you’re welcome to visit it any time, to see how it progresses.” He spoke with all the confidence he usually exuded, though one look at him and you knew better; his eyes were nervous as he extended this small gesture of goodwill. He was worried about what you might say or do, you just knew it.

You almost said nothing, but as you looked into his eyes, you let out a short huff and grumbled, “Well let’s hope this one flies better than the last.”

“Truly,” Nikolai grinned, pleased that you’d given him a response.

You looked at Alina again and noticed she was leaving the room, so without another word, you left Nikolai.

……….

It was happening again.

You were on the streets of the Barrel, hurrying to reach your brothers after a long and stressful day of work. You wove through the alleyways, your feet moving like air; you were weightless–drifting. There was a light scraping, the prodding of the Bodymen's hooks against the cobbles, and a horrible thought came to your mind. You tried to move faster, but your feet were still drifting. All you knew was that you had to get there faster–had to say goodbye to your brothers.

Suddenly, something shifted and you were upon the tall stack of crates Jordie and Kaz were hiding behind in their time of illness. You stepped up slowly, only to see Nikolai sitting there in the place of your brothers.

He lay in a heap on the cobbles; weak with firepox, and mumbling nonsensically. Your feet could not move fast enough to be with him. 

You crumbled down to your knees beside him. And you reached for him, but he used what little strength he had still left in him to push you away. You tried again, but he swatted you back with a sick wail in his throat. Again and again, you reached for him, trying to hold him in your arms, to touch his forehead or grab his hand, to comfort him in whatever way you could, but he always evaded you.

And then when you finally got hold of his shoulders and leaned in to look at his face, he shoved you away with a great force. You were knocked down beside him, and his face turned angry–hateful.

Suddenly, he shouted at you, "This is all your fault!" 

You woke up with a start. Sweaty and shaking in the dark, you rushed to light your bedside lamp. The dim flame brought you some comfort, but as soon as you started to dwell on the images you’d dreamt, you felt nausea gripping you tight. You could taste the death in your mouth, stirring a sour, stale sickness inside you. You sat on the edge of your bed, your body doubled over and your head between your legs as you tried to shove the rot away.

You tucked your knees up to your chest as a sob tore through you. It was moments like this that made you most angry over Nikolai’s engagement; moments where you used to rely on him to help you, but where you couldn’t anymore. Since that trip to West Ravka a year and a bit ago now, he was the one to pull you out of any nightmares and back to the warm reality of his arms around you. But now for the last two months, he was all the way in another stupidly grand building. And engaged. And utterly unavailable to you. 

You huffed, shoving to your feet despite how weak your limbs felt. With a cloak over your pajamas and your boots to protect you from the autumn evening chill, you travelled out of your stifling bedroom, through the tall halls of the Little Palace, and out into the open sky of the outdoors. You gulped in the crisp air, clearing your lungs of death as you listened to the crickets. You looked out at the lake behind the Little Palace and spotted Nikolai’s new flying boat modelled after the Hummingbird. The bobbing boat beckoned you closer.

In the moonlight, your boots crunched towards the short dock on the lake. It creaked underfoot as you approached the boat. Kingfisher was written in scripted lettering on the small vessel’s stern. The deck wasn’t too large, though there appeared to be a cabin beneath it, judging by a small circular window on the port side. You noticed the flicker of candlelight through this window, and before you could turn tail and run back in the direction you came from, you heard his voice.

“Can’t sleep?” Nikolai called out to you, appearing from the open hatch of the cabin

You gulped, not wanting to meet his eyes. You muttered, “Something like that.”

“I can’t sleep either,” he said.

He stepped towards the ramp that connected the ship to the dock. You ignored how he wrung his strong and greasy hands on a cloth. You also ignored the sweat on his brow, ignored the memories of all the times you’d once worked beside him. All the times you’d admired the concentration sculpted along his beautiful face. He wasn't dressed like the prim prince you'd seen the last couple of months, he looked more like the privateer you loved.

“Would you want to come aboard and look around?” he asked softly, his voice reminiscent of all the nights you’d once spent with him by your side.

You nearly shook your head, nearly said you should go back to sleep. But the lingering fears in your mind kept you from returning to the Little Palace. All that was there for you was nightmares and a Nikolai that despised you. At least this Nikolai spoke softly, with a lingering affection.

Silently, you climbed the ramp and boarded the Kingfisher. Your arms crossed as you took in the sails and rudders, the fine lacquer keeping the fine wood intact. The sway of the waves beneath brought you some peace. It was too long since you’d sailed.

“Come check this out?” Nikolai asked of you, tilting his head towards the stern.

You stepped over to the back of the boat, keeping a secure enough distance beside him as he braced his hands on the wheel. You eyed the lever that would adjust the sails so that Squallers could lift the boat. The designs were updated, but most everything looked the same as it was on the Hummingbird. Nikolai pointed to the back mast.

“When I pull the lever now, this mast will only tilt halfway, allowing smoother steering than the last one did,” he explained, his eyes alight. He looked like a kid on the first wintery day of snowfall.

He looked over and caught you staring at him. You turned away as soon as you could, but the damage was done. The soft adoration in his eyes snapped whatever tough resolve you’d built up over the last few months, and you took a sharp breath. It came out in a shaky exhale, and you brought your hand to your mouth.

“This is all your fault!”

The words he cried in your nightmare flashed through your ears, and you felt your throat tighten. You started sobbing, nothing held back as hot tears dripped down your face. You heard Nikolai sigh softly as he realized you were crying. Without hesitation, Nikolai brought you into his arms, holding you under the watchful eye of the moon. You should have been strong enough to push him away, to remind the both of you what you’d lost. But you just weren’t strong enough. It wasn’t in you to push him away like he had pushed you away in your dream.

"What’s wrong, my darling?" He murmured into the crown of your head.

“Nightmares.” There was so much more to your pain, but this was all you could say.

His voice fell to a whisper, "Oh, darling."

He held you close, swaying you for a moment as you stood on the deck, then he ushered you to the cabin hatch. He brought you below deck, sitting down on a plain bench with you as a lantern burned in the corner. As you sat there, you felt the boat swaying gently, rocking you. 

Nikolai's one hand caressed your back, rubbing warm circles into you, as the other cradled the back of your neck, holding you securely as you leaned against his chest. He smelled like salt, grease, and pine; it was a combination so familiar and so Nikolai. You forgot what it was to breathe him in.

There was a bubble in your throat, an aching pressure on your larynx as you sobbed into his half-laced shirt. You tried to keep it inside, tried not to let the bubble burst and the truth come out, but you hadn’t been good at hiding things from him ever since the first night he saw you cry.

“I just miss you,” you whispered, praying he didn’t hear you.

His hand stilled on your back for a moment, then he kept rubbing along it. He heard, then. And yet, he didn’t say anything. He just held you to him as you kept crying. 

The scent of him lingered as you stayed in his arms. Even after you shut your eyes and felt your brain slowly falling asleep, you could smell him. The boat kept rocking, and soon enough your body fell asleep in the comfort of his familiar arms.

……….

You could hear birds when you woke up. The air smelled crisp. Your eyes blinked open, looking around at the cabin of the Kingfisher. It looked bigger in the light of dawn. You lifted your head off of Nikolai's chest.

A sick form of embarrassment took root in your chest. There was no humiliation quite like falling asleep in the arms of someone you swore you were done with. And he awoke with you, just as light a sleeper as he'd always been. He smiled softly at you, and you had to look away and get up lest you do something even more stupid.

"I should go," you said, straightening out your cloak as you went to the hatch. It was still dawn, the sun had barely risen, but you needed to be off of this ship and back into your room before people started waking up.

"Or you could stay," Nikolai replied quietly, standing with you. "We could talk about us? About last night?"

"There's nothing to talk about, Nikolai," you huffed.

"Darling, you were sobbing last night. I haven't seen you as bad as that since that time we were stranded in West Ravka." Nikolai sighed, stepping a bit closer to you. You let him grab your hand. "I made a promise to myself that night that I wouldn't let you cry alone ever again.”

You pursed your lips, saying something he knew. “You’ve already broken that promise."

“I know. I know I have, so the least I can do right now is talk and listen to you until you’re better.”

“I’m not going to get better," you scoffed.

He knew that too, you were certain of it, but he didn’t dare say it aloud. Instead, he said something much more stupid. “If I knew the people of Ravka would accept me as their king I never would have–”

“Stop,” you said tiredly, dropping your hand from his. You folded your arms around yourself. “I don’t want to argue right now. You’ve made your choice, and that’s that.”

Nikolai went quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor. You took a breath and climbed up the hatch, into the open air, and into reality. You walked across the deck, but stopped at the ramp when he cleared his throat and called your name.

"I have a test flight of the Kingfisher this afternoon." He gave a weak knock to the mast, a paltry smile on his face. "You're more than welcome to come watch.”

“I’m on duty later, I’m not sure I can come.” At your sides, your fingers balled into your cloak.

“I invited Alina already. She said she has Grisha training, but she might be able to make it.”

You nodded politely. “Then perhaps I’ll see you again later.”

“Perhaps.”

You turned to leave but he called your name again. You looked at him, watching his nervous eyes.

“I… I hope you know that you can always come to me when you’re hurting. I’ll never turn you out,” he said softly. “Or if you’re not upset but you just feel like talking to me, I’m here for you.”

His words made your blood sting. You knew he didn't mean to make you mad, that he was being sincere and kind, and yet you couldn't stop the low-boiling rage that seeped into your veins. Why he couldn't just say that he missed you and that he had made a colossal mistake, you didn't know. Why he felt the need to cloak his regret in some twisted extension of goodwill, you also didn't know. 

If you were even angrier, you might have called him a coward, but instead you shook your head and gave him another polite smile.

“Thank you, your highness, but don’t ever expect me at your door.”

He frowned and glanced out at the lake. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that. You know we’re beyond formalities.”

“I’ve nothing else to call you now besides formalities.” You turned on your heel. "Have a good day, your highness. I won't bother you like this again."

"It wasn't a bother," you heard him mutter as you descended the ramp and hurried back to the Little Palace.

……….

Your day wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sure, you woke up in Nikolai’s arms, but other than that nothing of note happened. You guarded Alina, you escorted her around, then you came back to the Little Palace. 

As you were turning down your bed for the night, you heard a soft knock at your door. You expected it to be one of the twins challenging you to a game of cards before bed as you sometimes did with them. So you gently called out for them to come in. 

It was not Tamar or Tolya. Or even Alina or Mal, the only other people whose quarters belonged in this wing of the Little Palace. It was someone who was not supposed to be here.

"No," you shook your head at him as you glanced back and saw him. You hadn't snapped at Nikolai this morning, but as he shut the door behind him you felt the urge to chew him up and spit him out. "Are you crazy? What are you doing here?"

"You said you wouldn't bother me, but I made no promises not to come and bother you," He said with a playful shrug. "Besides, last night reminded me of how terribly I sleep without you."

"You shouldn't be here, you'll be caught," you said quietly, though with a measured level of anger.

"By whom? The twins? Mal? Alina? They all know our feelings for each other, and they won't care."

You crossed your arms. "Well, I care. Staying with you on that damned boat last night was a momentary lapse of judgment, not an invitation to make this into a habit."

"To me, it's just a way to sleep better," he said softly, stepping a bit closer to you. "I would rather have four hours of high-quality sleep with you in my arms and have to sneak back to the Grand Palace while it's still dark. The alternative is tossing and turning alone in my bed because I feel so incredibly alone I could scream."

“I don’t care if you’re lonely! I don’t care!" You stormed up to him, glaring a hole into his beautiful hazel eyes. "I'm lonely too, but I don’t cry about it to you. Because what good would it do? Would it change your mind? No, it wouldn’t."

Nikolai raises his brows slightly, a signal he's about to talk, but you cut him off with a huff.

"So, your highness, no matter what you say to me, no matter how badly you want me to, I will not warm your bed. Not if there is no real future with me by your side as anything more than a mistress that you hide away from the world!” 

He opened his mouth to try to speak again but a loud knock on the door cut him off before he could.

You raised a hand in front of him in a halting motion. “Don’t. Don’t say whatever it is you’re going to say. I don’t want to hear any more on the subject or I will leave Os Alta. I will pack my things and head for the coast. Because I won’t do this. I… I can’t.”

You ignored the tremble in your lip as you watched him stand there, dejected. Something in the way he stood made him look like a small child after a scolding. It was almost enough to make you feel bad for lashing out at him. Almost.

Another knock at the door made you take a breath, and you stepped back from Nikolai again.

“Come in,” you called out.

The door opened to Tamar, Tolya, Mal and Alina standing in the hall. Great, you thought, you’d woken everyone with your yelling. With your luck, all of the Little Palace heard your grievances.

Tamar and Tolya came to your side, not-so-subtly standing between you and Nikolai. Mal and Alina remained in the doorway.

“Is everything alright?” Tamar asked, carefully looking between you two.

“Nikolai was just leaving,” you muttered.

“Good. I’ll walk him back,” Tolya said.

“I’ll go too,” Mal piped in.

Nikolai shook his head with a sad little frown. “I don’t need you to–”

“C’mon, your highness.” Tolya ushered him from the room.

The last you saw of him was an ashamed glance he cast over his shoulder as he passed Alina in the doorway. Once he was gone you approached the summoner.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” you said to her. You looked at Tamar. “You and the others as well.”

“It’s alright.” Alina gave you a paltry smile. “If you want me to, I can punch him again.”

“Same,” Tamar said. “Or I’ll get Tolya to do it. That would be a spectacle.”

You chuckled. “That won’t be necessary. But thank you.”

When you looked at Alina again you saw a guilty gleam in her eyes. She almost matched Nikolai’s levels of shame as she wrought her hands. Then she suddenly hugged you. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled beside your head.

You wrapped your arms around her. 

It wasn’t her fault, though you couldn’t deny that you resented her a little. She would have the greatest love of your life, living in the peaceful eye of a hurricane, while you would be caught up in the worst storm imaginable, peering through to them with desolate eyes as you tried not to lash out and harm them.

But it still wasn’t her fault. It was squarely on Nikolai. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to her, to so much as accept her apology.

Alina let go of you, and she and Tamar said their goodnights.

You couldn’t sleep, so you lay in bed, watching the stars through your window. 

You recalled starry nights at sea, when the sky and the water were one with twinkling specs of white on the darkest blue you’d ever seen. Nights when you were happy, wrapped in a warm and familiar pair of arms, and the worst kind of storm you knew of only involved heavy rain on the deck of a ship.

……….

As luck would have it, there was a hunting party leaving the next day. Mal was going, and after the fiasco with Nikolai the night before, he invited you to join him and the group of nobles and high-ranking military faces on this hunt.

You gladly seized the opportunity to be away from the palace for a spell, and now you were riding horseback alongside Mal. The last time you'd ridden beside him was the road to Os Alta, but you shoved that memory aside. Nikolai was there then, putting on the show of his engagement for the Ravkan people. Saints, no matter what you were doing or what memory you carried he always seemed to linger, staining your mind and your every moment. 

You shut your eyes for a second, your grip tight on your reins.

"Everything alright?” Mal’s voice reached your ears.

You glanced at him. “I’m fine.”

“Rietveld,” he started, eyes darting around before he lowered his volume. “I hope you can enjoy yourself this week. You deserve the time away from it all.”

“I know.” You nodded. “I just… I don’t know how to get through this.”

“Well, you’re faring better than our lovely prince.”

Were you though? You might have been the one to reject him last night, but you were also the one who broke down in front of him then passed out in his arms the night before. You supposed neither of you were taking this well.

“And how are you and Alina?" You asked quietly.

He turned his eyes ahead. "We're…"

You nodded after a long moment when he could not respond. "Yeah. I get that."

"It's a bit shit, isn't it?"

"A whole bucket-load of shit is more like it."

He shrugged in agreement.

……….

While you could admit it was a marvel watching Mal tracking, the hunting part of the trip was not nearly as interesting as the evening dinners. You'd be sat at tables between Ravkan lords and generals and dignitaries, listening to their stories and answering their questions. Speaking with them reminded you of your time with Lady Trokowsky; so many of them were as curt and prim as her. And though some of them were also a bit pompous for your liking, you held your own in their conversations. Plus, when there was wine and good food, even the most irritable guests were made tolerable.

"Were you really a sailor, Ms. Rietveld?" One of the lords asked you on the third night. "Grigor here says you were, but I can't imagine you at sea." 

"And why's that, my lord?" You raised a brow. "Do you not think me capable?"

"Oh, not at all! Aside from our esteemed Oretsev here, you've shot the most game--I think you are very capable indeed. I just can't envision a young woman as refined as you in the life of a sailor."

"You think I'm refined? My lord, you flatter me," you said, smiling politely and tilting your glass at him. That was what Lady Trokowsy used to do when paid a compliment; you took your cues in manners from your time with her. You noticed Mal leaning forward in his seat.

"Ms. Rietveld is more than accomplished. If I'm not mistaken, she knows five languages, she can track and divide large sums all in her head and without paper, she's quite gifted with a sword, plus if you're bleeding and broken she's great to have around when there's no corporalniks nearby."

The table guests all nodded their heads, murmuring in approval, and you gave a slight look of thanks to Mal. As their new favourite hunting guest, his word meant a lot to these people. You were grateful for their good opinion; you hoped perhaps one of them might offer you a job or help you once you one day decided to leave Alina's guard.

Dinner carried on, with many of the guests asking you more about yourself or even just your opinion on local matters or the state of the war. They all seemed pleased by your answers, and you left for your tent that night feeling good about yourself and your future. Mal walked with you, and he nudged you with his elbow.

"We've got a future diplomat on our hands," he smiled.

"Well, you helped out quite a bit."

"I said one thing. The rest of that was all you, Rietveld. You charmed them all by yourself."

You sighed at his words. A small grin took up your face. "I kind of did, didn't I?"

"You definitely did." He turned to you as you stood outside your tent. "I'm glad you came on this trip. And I'm glad you got to see what kind of life you might have ahead of you."

"And what kind of life is that?" 

"A life of rubbing elbows with the Ravkan 'elite.' You're already pretty good at it, but it's nice practice for once you're one of them."

You gave him a look. "Mal, that's never going to happen." 

"It will once Nikolai marries you," he smirked.

You frowned at his chipperness. "He's already engaged, remember?"

He lowered his voice, looking around to check if anyone was nearby. "Alina's not going to marry him. Trust me. She doesn't want that life. When all is said and done, she won't go through with it."

"And you think he'd just marry me?" You asked in an irritated whisper.

"Yes. He loves you."

"I have nothing to offer him. At least Alina's a saint."

"He loves you, Rietveld," Mal repeated.

You looked at him, saw the certainty in his eyes, and had to look away again. You hated how sure he seemed. How confident he was, even though you knew better and he should know better too. Even if Alina didn't end up marrying him, Nikolai wouldn't marry you. The last few months had shown that. He would no doubt choose a princess or a very rich man's daughter, of which you were neither of those things.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Oretsev," you muttered, then ducked into your tent. 

……….

Alina was there to greet you and Mal when you arrived at the Little Palace. But unfortunately, Mal kept riding to the stables, practically ignoring Alina. You had no idea what happened there between them to have him ice her out like that; all trip Mal had only complimentary things to say about Alina. Still, you supposed if any of the hunting party asked your opinion of Nikolai you would only say favorable things.

Regardless, Alina was there to offer you a hug and walk with you inside the Little Palace.

"How was your trip?" She inquired.

"Good. It was nice to be away for a bit," you said, remembering the tense circumstances before you'd left. "And nice to spend time with Mal. He's a good friend, even if he embellishes a bit."

"Saints, he embellished what exactly?" She raised her brows worriedly.

"Well, he was talking me up to some of the guests and he made me out to be some daring and sophisticated hero."

"Why's that?" She chuckled.

"No idea why. At one point he even said I went to the university of Ketterdam and graduated top of my class. Meanwhile, I was never educated past fifteen years old; I was raised on a farm, for saint's sake."

"Well, I'm glad he talked you up." She smiled at you. "I'm sure it made those stuffy lords and generals more pleasant to be around if they thought you were admirable."

"I suppose it did." You looked at her. "He talked you up too. Turned more than a few of them on to your side as the new leader of the second army."

"He did?"

"Yeah, he's really good at all of that."

A gentle silence filled the air. You weren't sure if it was because you'd told her what Mal got up to while they were apart, but she decided to talk about what Nikolai had been up to. Apparently, he mostly spent his time fine-tuning the Kingfisher or a number of other inventions he'd set up work on near the Summoner Pavillion. 

"Also, last week he did something odd," Alina said as you arrived at the wing where both of your rooms were.

"Odd how?" You asked.

"Well, we were meeting with the royal family's jeweller." She saw the quizzical curve of your brow and added, "For Nikolai's birthday next month."

You pursed your lips. "Oh. Right."

"Part of the preparations was getting fitted for outfits and choosing which royal jewels and crowns to wear. It was a lot." She sighed. "And when we were going through the royal jewels, that’s when he did something odd."

"Oh?"

"The jeweller was showing off different crowns and tiaras for me," Alina blushed slightly, "and when he pulled out some sapphire crown, Nikolai lost it for a second."

The mention of a sapphire crown made your face burn. Could it be the crown you'd helped Nikolai recover? The crown he'd once put on your head and called you moya tsaritsa--his queen? Your heart hammered in your chest.

"He…" You furrowed your brows. "He lost it? What do you mean by that?"

Alina leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice despite how you were alone.

"Well, I wouldn't compare it with other people's losing it, but for Nikolai, it definitely made him lose it. He's usually so calm and everything, but he looked upset. He got all pale and then he looked at the jeweller and sternly said something like 'I told you very specifically not to put that crown in the selection.' And when the jeweller said that the queen wanted me to pick from everything, Nikolai started to go red, and he said 'I don't care what my mother said. This crown isn't to be worn.'"

Your lips parted slightly, and you glanced away for a moment, parsing out what she'd said.

Had Nikolai really been that upset over seeing that sapphire crown on display? You cared to know what upset him about it. Was it the sight of it? Or was it the thought that Alina might have picked the crown he foolishly thought you would one day wear? You weren't sure. You didn't even know if he had actually thought you could be his queen; but regardless, he had to know now that you weren't an option.

Alina chuckled slightly. "That's odd, right?"

"Yeah…" You said softly. "Odd."

……….

It was your first day off after you'd gotten back from the hunting outing. So, like most of your days off, you decided to take a walk on the Little Palace grounds. There was a pretty path behind the lake, and you were admiring the changing leaves of the trees all around you. It was understandable then that you didn't notice someone's sudden presence.

A throat cleared ahead of you on the path and you instantly snapped into focus. Your eyes landed on Nikolai and you almost sighed but then your jaw tensed instead. Since you got back you had seen him while on guard, but you hadn't been alone with him since that night he'd snuck to your room. You were afraid that the furious nature of your last conversation would only continue if you spoke again.

He gave you a slight smile and a polite nod. His hands were clasped behind his back. You took in his clothes, the slightly unkempt way his fine shirt was tucked, and the grease spot on his trousers. He must have been working on the Kingfisher again when he saw you walk by and chose to follow you. Still, he didn't look like he was in the mood for an argument either, not with his diplomatic smile.

"How was your hunting trip?" He asked, finally breaking the silence between you.

"Fine," was all you said.

He nodded, shifting his weight on his feet. "I hope you weren't too bored with all the lords and generals. I know how dreadful those trips can be."

"It was fine, really," you said, crossing your arms. "Mal is a good friend to have around those sorts. He and I spent all the time while we weren't shooting to talk up our little saint; to win public opinion of her."

"I didn't think Oretsev was clever enough for that," Nikolai grumbled, the annoyance of his words hidden under a smile. "Using influential lords and the likes to bolster the public's opinion of Alina… good on him, I suppose. It's a smart tactic."

Something about his words, or perhaps his slight irritation and the fact that he had no right to be irritated, irked you to no end.

"You hypocrite," you scoffed. "You frown down on Mal for using these lords and changing their opinions to help your fiance, and yet it's you who's engaged to her just to use her sainthood to bolster your claim to the throne."

Nikolai chuckled lightly. “And she is using me so that my family doesn't declare her and all the other Grisha enemies of Ravka. I wasn't frowning down on Oretsev for using these hunting parties. Using people for one's own advantage happens all the time in politics.”

“So I’ve learned," you said, your eyes narrowed slightly on him. You watched him for a moment. "Were you using me?”

“What?” He turned to you, his eyes turning from slight amusement to a blinking bewilderment. “Of course I wasn’t using you,” he said softly. “Do you really think I was using you?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore, Nikolai. You told me you wanted us, now and always. You put a crown on my head and called me your queen.” You tugged your simple chain out from under your shirt and let Nikolai’s ring dangle on it. “You gave me a ring that I, very stupidly, believed meant something… And then you made me feel like an idiot for thinking you could ever be mine–that I could ever share my life with a prince.”

"You still wear the ring?" His eyes seemed hopeful.

"I… that's what you've latched onto?" You blinked at him.

He stepped closer to you. His eyes were earnest. "I'm sorry. I wasn't using you. It was always love between us; I wasn't going to exploit that."

"No, instead you broke it."

You saw it on his face. Yes, I broke it, was written in the mournful line of his mouth as his eyes drooped to his shoes.

"If I could take it all back," he said quietly, "I would. And you would be happy and I could stop worrying and it would all be back to the way it was before."

Your fingers balled up at your sides as you scowled. "And how was it before? You expect me to believe you would have married me once you were back to being a prince? When you were still Sturmhond you were so ashamed of me that we didn't even let the crew know we were together!"

"I wasn't ashamed–" he started but you stepped closer to him, eyes furious.

"Why would I believe you'd ever let the royal court know you wanted to be with a common sailor?"

"Because I would!" He exclaimed, a desperate glint in his eye as he brushed his hands through his hair. "Because I love you and--despite what you think–I am not ashamed of that love. I never have been."

He took your hand, and--ignoring the urge to break free and slap him or shove him into the dirt–you let him. He took a breath, letting his eyes meet yours again once he was ready.

“What I’m trying to say is that I–"

Nikolai cut himself off at the sound of footsteps approaching. He dropped your hand and took a step back, and you pretended his actions didn't sting. The approaching footsteps turned out to be Vasily, and you kept down the groan you wanted to make.

"Vasily," Nikolai nodded.

He put on a charming smile, though his chest rose and fell quickly. You didn't need to read his mind to know what he was thinking because you were thinking the same thing--how much had his brother seen between you two? It was a wonder with the way Vasily stared so skeptically at you both.

"Who's this you're speaking with, brother?" Vasily asked, sleazily eyeing every part of you besides your narrowed stare.

"This is Rietveld," Nikolai answered calmly, though you noticed how his hands were desperately trying to not ball up at his sides. "She was my second in command at sea, now she's one of Alina's guards."

He sneered as he glanced between you and Nikolai. "Ah yes, one of your… crewmates. Seems quite pretty for a sailor. I think you spoke about her before… didn't you say she was Kerch?" He addressed you. "Are you Kerch, girl?

"Yes," you replied with gritted teeth. He bent a superior eyebrow and you added, "Moi Tsarevich," with the bow of your head.

"A Kerch sailor," he mused. "I wonder where you met her… Was it Ketterdam?"

"Yes, brother," Nikolai said, his words carrying a careful twinge of annoyance.

"Such a pretty thing… I wonder, where in Ketterdam could you have found her?" He made no attempt to hide how he watched you like you were a piece of meat. "Did you pluck her from the Barrel?"

"Vasily," Nikolai warned with a low voice.

"I imagine she came from somewhere lush and expensive, at least I hope you didn't buy her out of one of the cheap brothels. Though she does have the scowl of a cheap whore."

Nothing more could be said on the topic, as Nikolai's fist came in contact with Vasily's jaw. You heard an ugly thwack sound, and Vasily stumbled backwards, landing on his ass on the dustiness of the dirt path.

"You filthy mutt!" Vasily spat. "You nearly knocked all my teeth loose!"

You expected Nikolai to straighten out with a diplomatic apology, sarcastically citing a lapse in judgment or pretending his arm had spasmed. You expected him to act as prince, but at this moment he was privateer instead. He bent down beside his brother and grabbed him by the collar.

"If I ever hear you speak about her like that again, I will punch you so hard you bite off your own tongue," Nikolai threatened. "Am I understood, brother?"

"Some brother you pretend to be–"

Nikolai's grip tightened. "Am I understood?"

"Yes," Vasily sneered.

Nikolai let go of him and stood to his full height, dusting himself off. He was back to being a dignified prince. "Good."

Nikolai glanced at you then glanced down the path in the direction back to the Little Palace. You took the hint, and silently but with quick steps, the two of you walked along.

The image of Vasily in the dirt brought you joy, though you couldn't say the same for the way Nikolai threatened him. Nikolai's actions frustrated you to no end, making you frown as you walked. It wasn't his job to do that, to fight for you, but he was a fool who treated it like his duty.

Once the Little Palace was in sight, you spoke to him.

"I've dealt with worse than Vasily, I don't need you to defend me," you asserted.

He looked at you. "I know you don't, but I wanted to."

"You don't get to anymore," you said, "you have a fiance to defend instead now."

Nikolai scoffed. "He called you a whore, what else was I supposed to do?"

"Let it slip by. Defending me is not worth the wrath of your brother."

"Please, I've already earned his wrath just by existing." He smiled. "And besides, it was nice to give him a whack like that. He deserved it for what he said."

You wanted to agree with him that Vasily deserved a whack, but you held firm. It was hard to tell if you were just being contrary for the fun of it or if you meant it.

"You shouldn't let him get under your skin," you muttered. "Don't do that again, Nikolai."

He slowed and you slowed with him. Stopped in the shade from the Little Palace, he looked at you, his stare earnest.

"I could tell you I will only let myself lash out at him just this once, but I would be lying." You thought he might hold your hand, but as he reached for you he thought the better of it and clasped his hands behind his back. "I would be lying, because if he–or anyone else for that matter--speaks about you like that again, hitting him would be the least of what I'd do."

……….

FIFTH YEAR - KAZ

Kaz didn't know why he was in Lij. 

He hadn't been in his hometown since he moved away from it at nine years old. But he was walking the harbours of Ketterdam on his day off from the Crow Club and saw a boat travelling down the coast to the southern farmlands of Kerch. Next thing he knew, he was sailing away from Ketterdam. 

Then he was in his old, simple little world. Acres upon acres of farmland, a town square with market vendors and people who smiled at other people without trying to steal their wallets… it all seemed so foreign to him now. 

He went up the hill to his old farmhouse first. It had sat in disrepair for a few years now since his siblings moved to the city. The fields were wildly overgrown, but it still looked like a plot of good land. Kaz trudged through the weeds to the barn out back. It only took him four seconds to pick the lock on the barn door. The inside was empty, but it still looked alright.

He didn't dwell for long, though. He stood in the barn, shut his eyes for a moment, breathed in the farm air, thought briefly of his family--of how he missed them--then he left.

He relocked the barn, instinctively leaving it how it was found, then set out on another path down the hill.

Kaz passed by the well-kept house of Old Lady Trokowsky. How that Ravkan bat frightened him when he was younger. He had no idea how his sister managed to visit with her every other day just to read to her and keep her company. As Kaz recalled, her tongue was always so sharp, and she would shout at him and Jordie from the upper porch above her front door whenever they got into the slightest bit of mischief.

He wondered for a moment if she was still alive; in his memory, she seemed ancient, after all. 

A broken post on her otherwise perfect fence caught his eye, and he nudged it with his foot.

"Rietveld? Jordan Rietveld!" A worn voice called out as soon as his boot made contact with the post. 

Kaz's eyes snapped wide in surprise, and he instinctively straightened out at the memory of reprimands gone past. He looked up to the porch above her front door, and sure enough, sitting there by the railing was Old Lady Trokowsky. He would have smiled at the sight of a familiar face if he wasn't so frightened of her.

"Jordan Rietveld, what are you doing to my fence? And what are you doing back in Lij? Your family's supposed to be in Ketterdam!" 

Kaz blinked up at her. Did she really think he was his brother? That he was Jordie?

"Well, young man?" Her gravelly old voice called down to him again.

He felt like a child under her eyes. He was fourteen now, yet he felt like he was six and following along with whatever trouble Jordie was getting into.

Trokowsky waved an arm in a resigned manner. "Oh, come inside, boy. I've got hot chocolate and cookies that I'm too old to stomach now. Eat and talk with me, Jordan."

Kaz paused at the gate. He wanted to pass by and head back to the town, but he felt a strange desire to go into her house. The closest he'd gotten to the house was standing in the doorway with Jordie when Da would sometimes send them to fetch their sister home early; the inside of it was always a mystery to him.

He passed through the gate and went up the stone path. It felt like he'd get in trouble, but he opened the front door and peered into the front hall. A caretaker for the bat came down the stairs to greet him. She directed him up the stairs and straight to the front where Lady Trokowsky would be waiting on the upper porch. 

His eyes roamed the walls as he went upstairs. All these Ravkan portraits and plaques adorning her house--the burgeoning criminal in him told him he should swipe something, but he ignored the urge. His sister had always spoken highly of Trokowsky, despite how the bat would shout at him and Jordie, so he would respect his sister by respecting the bat's belongings.

He stepped onto the upper porch and noticed immediately that her eyes had a slight wispiness to them that no doubt impaired her vision. Cataracts, if that was the right term. This was likely why she didn't recognize him as Kaz but as his brother.

"Ah, Jordan Rietveld," she greeted in her worn voice, gesturing to the rocking chair beside hers. "It's been years, hasn't it?"

Kaz nodded and took a seat beside her. "Yes."

"How are you, boy? How is the city treating you?" 

Like hell.

That's what he wanted to say. He'd been chewed up at spit back out by Ketterdam. He was rising through the ranks of the Dregs, but not without a few scrapes and tussles. He'd grown to be a swindler and a scammer, though he supposed that information would be quite useless to this old lady.

"Very well," he lied, feeling compelled to smile for the bat. "I've just been promoted at work."

"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" 

She did something that was nearly a smile. Her wrinkly face tightened slightly with the weak force of her mouth muscles, stretching her lips in a kind position.

"And how is that young brother of yours? Is he still as much trouble as you?" She chuckled fondly.

"Kaz is dead," Kaz said bluntly. He almost didn't realize he said it at first, but then he noticed Trokowsky's face fall.

"Oh dear… I'm sorry to hear that. Your sister always spoke so highly of her baby brother," she said with a sad coo.

Kaz glanced away over the balcony. "Well, she's gone now too. Moved across the world."

"I suppose that explains why she stopped writing to me." Trokowsky sighed. "I thought she might have passed in that plague–what a terrible, terrible bout of firepox it was this last time…" 

If only she knew, Kaz mused, holding back a wry smile.

"Do you ever see her? I'd love for you to tell her I say hello and that I miss her company," she said softly.

He didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. "I see her every few months. She comes to visit me in Ketterdam, or I go visit her in Novyi Zem."

"Oh, good. I'm glad to hear that." She smiled again. "Your family has suffered enough without being separated by something so trivial as the sea."

It seemed as though Lady Trokowsky might have said more on the matter, but a sudden coughing fit wracked through her. Kaz's body recoiled from her wheezing. It brought back memories of plague. 

He balled his gloved hands into fists and he looked away from her as he waited for her coughing to end. She recovered from her fit, and he stayed long enough to finish his hot chocolate and eat three cookies while he listened to a couple of stories from the bat. But he didn't stay much longer than that. Trowkowsy grew tired, in need of an afternoon nap as the elderly sometimes need. She gave him a kind parting smile as her caretaker wheeled her to her room.

Kaz waited in the main foyer until the nurse came downstairs again. He procured a Crow Club card from his pocket and handed it to the caretaker.

"Please let me know when she passes," he nodded to the caretaker.

Then he left and went down to the town square again, heading for the municipal office. He tried to acquire his family's farm back from the township. He didn't quite have enough money to buy it back yet, but he knew he would put it under Jordie's name when he did. Or perhaps Jordie's middle name would lend itself better as the ink on a dotted line. Either way, he could not secure the deed today, so he found his way to a ship bound up the coast to Ketterdam, back to the city of thieves and barterers.

A few months later, Kaz received a short letter. Lady Trokowsky had died of her old age. 

At her funeral, the name card on the grandest bouquet of flowers gifted was simply: "The Rietvelds."

..........

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment on this new part--I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Part 7

Masterlist

Taglist: I will reblog this part with the tags because there's too many of you to tag and tumblr won't let me do it all at once

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XII - Holding Out an Olive Branch

Chapter Summary: You wake up and discover Aleksander is gone. You hurry to the Fold, determined to help him, save him or die with him. Will you get there in time? And what do the results mean for you?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky, Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Genya Safin/David Kostyk

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Ivan, Fedyor Kaminsky, Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, Inej Ghafa, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nina Zenik, Nikolai Lantsov, Genya Safin, David Kostyk, Baghra, Tolya Yul-Bataar

Word Count: 4333

A/N: This chapter contains plot and dialogues from episode eight of season two. Also, we're get into the story from the King of Scars. Not much taken in this chapter, but later on I'm going to take some fragments from the book. Enjoy! https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089684638/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089798515/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089786937/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

When you wake up, you don't open your eyes at first. You lay in it, remembering with a smile the events of last night. You reach to the other side of the bed but you don't find Aleksander with your hand. You frown at the feeling of very cold sheets. You move your hand and suddenly feel a piece of paper.

You sit up abruptly. You grab the letter and scan it quickly with your eyes. Your face goes pale and your heart stops.

'Damn it, Aleksander!' you curse and spring out of the bed. You quickly dress yourself. For a moment you can't find your kefta. You finally notice it, but when you unfold it, you see it's not yours. You freeze for a moment. In some places, grey embroidery turns to black. In another situation, you'd be touched by it, appreciate it and maybe even cry a bit. But now you just put it on and gather your things.

You take a peek outside. In the letter Kirigan mentions that Fedyor and Ivan will look after you. You understand it as making sure you won't run. So, you look for them. You see them with their backs to you and a few feet away, talking quietly.

You quietly sneak away past them to the horses. You prepare yours and mount it. You direct him toward the Fold and urge him forward. It neighs, and galops away.

Ivan and Fedyor's head snap toward the sound. They're eyes go wide at the sight of you riding away. They sprint toward their horses.

'General will kill us!' Fedyor says, cursing under his breath, as they mount their horses.

'If he'll me merciful,' Ivan says gloomily and they ride after you.

But you're riding faster than you've ever had. Your heart beats faster, when you see the Fold is closer. Aleksander has spread it again. You bite your lip, fully believing nichevoy'a will protect you from the Volcras, and ride into the Fold.

You don't have to worry about the monsters of the Unsea long, though. Suddenly, everything is covered in blinding light. When you can see again, you're no longer surrounded with darkness. The Fold is gone. While part of you is glad, you're mostly concerned with what that means for the Darkling. You ride faster, praying to the Saints to arrive in time.

In the middle of the Unsea, Aleksander and Alina face each other. Starkov won, but Mal sacrificed himself, so she could destroy the Fold. Kirigan is wounded, but he still wants to join forces with the Sun Summoner. But when she pushes him away, nichevo attacks her, and doesn't listen to the Darkling ordering it to stop. Inej, the female thief from Ketterdam you've met, throws a sword made by Sankta Neyar at it, destroying it. It's the only thing that can do it and it's been acquired it with great difficulty.

'You can't control them, can you?' Alina asks. 'You can't control any of it.'

She's on her knees. Aleksander is already standing. He offers her his hand. She stares at it.

'I thought I could control it all… once,' he says. 'Find peace. And for a moment… I swear I did.'

He closes his eyes with a soft smile. Memories of you flash in his mind. Your smile. Your laugh. Your teas. Your kisses. The nights you've spent together.

Suddenly, he feels terrible pain in his abdomen. He coughs out blood and opens his eyes. He looks down. The sword is lodged in him, held by Alina's hands.

'Without me… know they will come for you,' he says. She stares at him angrily.

'Let them come,' she says and pulls out the sword with the grunt. Kirigan gasps and falls backward. A moment later Starkov shows up in his vision, blocking out the sun.

At that moment, you arrive. Your heart drops at the sight of General on the ground and Alina above him.

'No,' you whisper, dismounting. 'Saints, no, please!'

You run to them. Alina hears you or sees you, because she looks up. She tenses and gets ready to fight, but you ignore her and fall on your knees next to your lover. He groans as you touch him.

'Hey, hey, hey, hey. Shhh,' you say gently, as you scoop him up in your arms.

Saints, no, please, no…

'… [Y/N]… you're here?' Aleksander asks, trying to focus on you. You manage to laugh, tears in your eyes.

'Yeah. Yeah, of course I'm here,' you say. 'Now don't talk.'

There's so much blood…

'It h- it hurts,' he cries out.

'I know, darling,' you say, brushing the hair from his forehead. 'But don't talk. And don't move, either.'

No, no, no…

'H-hey, [Y/N]?' Kirigan asks. His breaths are rattling.

'Yeah?' you ask.

Stay awake…

'I-' he says and coughs. 'I love you.'

His eyes close. You freeze. You finally heard those words. But he… he's gone.

'No…' you sob. You whine, your shoulders shaking, as you press your head to his chest. You clench his kefta tight, begging him to come back to you.

You're not even aware you have an audience. Zoya and Inej are standing not far, looking at you sadly. You're only pulled back to reality after hearing a relieved laugh.

You lift your head up. You see Alina hugging Mal. The tracker is alive. A Heartrender, Nina, is next to them. Did she save him? But no, she's shocked as well. You focus on Alina… and feel it.

You feel anger. She killed Aleksander for using merzost to save Grisha. And now she's used it to save her lover? What a hypocrite…

You feel something burning inside, begging to get out. The moment you realise what it is, you calm down. You look up and meet Zoya's hesitant look calmly. Everything is gonna to be different now.

*

You don't know how you return out of the Fold. Or what used to be it. You get to an old camp at Kribirsk. You meet the rest of Alina's army there. Including Prince Nikolay. Your eyes meet, but he quickly looks away, finding something unnerving in your look.

You're taken away to a tent. On your way out, you didn't allow anyone to take you from Aleksander's body. Now you hesitate only for a moment.

You sit on a chair, your hands spread and bound. After what feels like hours, Nikolay enters the tent. You don't look at him.

'Baghra claims these bonds won't stop you,' he says after a moment and walks toward you. 'That if you want, you can break them free. You don't need to touch your hands for that.'

'And why would I do that?' you ask, your voice flat. The Prince… or maybe the King, just not crowned yet, sits on a chair opposite to you. You still don't look at him.

'To run away,' he answers. You focus your gaze on him. Once again, something in your eyes disturbs him.

'Where?' you ask.

'Anywhere you want,' he answers, shrugging. You smile bitterly.

'And what would I do?' you ask. 'I used to think I can use my powers to help others. To make this world a better place. How would I do that on the endless run?'

Tears glisten in your eyes. You hastily look away. Nikolay observes you in silence. He knows you were on Kirigan's side. But he can't imagine you approved everything he did. Others told him that as well.

'Are you going to kill me?' you ask.

'Do you want me to?' he asks. 'And that is a serious question. Do you want to die?'

'No,' you answer after a moment. 'I… I've done some things I'm not proud of. I need to atone for them. My death wouldn't do that. I'd be just running away from responsibility for my actions.'

'Did you really love him this much that you didn't hesitate to break your own rules?' Nikolay asks quietly. You look at him.

'I do,' you confirm. He almost shivers under your gaze. He looks down.

'You'll be a prisoner until…' he says but doesn't finish the thought. Until you atone? Until they decide you're not really a villain?

'You weren't with others,' he says instead and looks at you again. 'And you weren't with Kirigan in the Fold from the beginning. If you had been, you'd have stopped Alina from killing him. So, where were you? Why weren't you there?'

'Because he didn't want me to,' you answer after a beat. 'He was protecting me, since I'm not much of a fighter. He didn't want me to get hurt. And he also… didn't want me to bend my morals even more. He already believes… believed… that he had ruined me enough.'

Your look softens. You clench your fists.

'I'm not trying to minimalize what's he done,' you say. 'He committed hideous crimes. But he… he cared. There was goodness in his heart.'

Silence falls. This time you don't try to hide tears in your eyes.

'You know this is my third time in this camp?' you say. 'The first time was when I created my skiff. The second time when… we crossed the Fold that day.'

'Did you know what he's planning?' Nikolay asks.

'I figured it out,' you admit. 'I didn't approve of it, though. And I'm glad the Fold is gone. I didn't believe controlling it would make Grisha safe. Just as now I don't believe it being gone will do it.'

'It won't be easy,' the King says, easily getting back his confidence. 'But the country is united once again. We can do it.'

'The land maybe is reunited, but not its people. It won't be that easy. You lost what could unite them. Because it's easier to unite against a common enemy than under the kind ruler.'

'You think Alina made a mistake killing the Darkling.'

'You know my opinion on that matter. But yes. He could have been someone that could help you stitch this country back together.'

'If you didn't believe in neither controlling the Fold nor destroying him… what did you believe in?'

'Him.'

Silence falls again. Nikolay observes you, thinking how to break certain news to you.

'We have to burn him,' he finally says and you stiffen. 'Will you let us?'

'I know how dangerous it would be to simply bury him,' you say softly and then look at him with a hard gaze. 'But I have one condition. Or rather… request.'

'What is it?' the King asks, actually curious.

'Let me prepare him for it,' you answer and your lip trembles. 'Let me… say goodbye properly.'

Nikolay thinks about it carefully. But finally… he nods.

'I will send someone for you,' he says, standing up. 'But after you're done, your being tied again and in Os Alta you're going to be put in a cell.'

You nod in agreement. The King looks at you for a moment longer, then leaves.

You're not sure how much time pass until it's time of the ceremony. For the burning of the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, which is obviously attended by many people. Because officially, Alina Starkov has died while destroying the Fold. She chose a simple life with her Tracker. You can't really blame her. It's what you would want with Aleksander.

You glare at her. She's here, disguised, of course. But she wanted to see it. See him being burned. And herself. So, since you're present as well, you glare at her, angry that she can get to live the life you want.

You turn your head, not wanting to explode. You glance at your guards and look at his body. In the corner of your eye, you see Nikolay giving the signal. You watch as the Inferni summon the fire to ignite the stake. People around you call Alina's name. No one calls his. Because not many knew it.

'Aleksander,' you whisper. Suddenly, you feel arms around you. Zoya, your friend, who's not sure how to treat you now, puts her head on yours.

'It's over, [Y/N],' she says softly, with a dose of compassion, you think.

'No, you're wrong,' you say quietly, your eyes not leaving the pyre. 'It has just begun.'

*

Two years and a half have passed since the civil war in Ravka. Nikolay is still trying to stitch his country back together. He has help, of course. But some things only he can do. One of them isn't the new threat to Grisha. To deal with that he needs all the help he can get.

Jurda parem. The drug that modifies Grisha's power by changing their perception of the world in an opposite and unnatural direction. It is extremely addictive to them, and rapidly weakens the body of the user. Many want to use this to their advantage. Fjerda. Shu-Han. It seems only Ravka wants this drug out of the market and to save Grisha. But even though they now have the son of the creator of the drug, they're still not closer to finding an andidotum.

Nikolay sits with his Grisha Triumvirate – Genya, Zoya and David – and they have a brainstorm. The Durast is trying hard, but so far, he's getting nowhere.

'It is frustrating,' Zoya sighs, after yet another dismissed idea. 'Why did Bo Yul-Bayur have to die?'

'I'm sure he didn't just decide to die and leave us all in this mess,' Genya says grimly, but suddenly frowns. 'David? I know that look. You have an idea.'

'Well…' the Durast starts but closes his eyes. 'I'm not sure.'

'Share with us, David,' Nikolay encourages him. 'Surely it's not worse than Zoya's idea to set Fjerda and Shu-Han on fire.'

'I still think it's our best option,' Zoya says, raising her head haughtily. She is ignored.

'I have tried many things with that drug to find an antidote,' David says. 'I am skilled… but there is someone whose mind is far brighter than me… who may think of a solution.'

'There is no one smarter than you,' Genya says, squeezing the hand of her husband.

'There is one person,' Kostyk disagrees, staring Nikolay in the eyes. The King slumps in his chair. He closes his eyes and pinches his nose.

'You can't think…' Genya starts, realising what the Durast means as well. 'She won't agree.'

'She cares about Grisha,' David argues softly. 'And she's not… She helped you escape.'

'She's spent two years and a half locked in a cell,' Safin argues. 'She couldn't use her powers. Don't you think that changed her?'

'Surely,' Kostyk agrees. 'But not enough not to help.'

'Can she really find a way we haven't found?' Nikolay interrupts them.

'We've all been surprised by how powerful she really is,' Zoya speaks up. 'All but one.'

An hour later Nikolay knocks on the door to Baghra's hut. He comes in after the invitation. The old woman is sitting in her armchair. She looks at him.

'Do what do I owe the pleasure of the King himself to visit me?' she asks with sarcasm.

'I need to talk to you about our problem,' Lantsov explains, sitting on a chair.

'Jurda parem,' Baghra says and spits. 'Another abomination. Are the Durast and Alkemi any closer to finding an antidote?'

'No,' Nikolay denies and exhales. 'But David believes someone else may think of something.'

'[Y/N],' Baghra immediately guesses and nods. 'She has a unique brain. One of the reasons he was so drawn to her. Yes, if anyone can find a cure, it's her.'

'Will she do it, though?' the King asks. The old woman is silent for a moment.

'Yes,' she finally answers. 'Her heart hasn't changed. She still would do anything to keep Grisha save.'

'But what will it cost us?' Lantsov asks. Baghra smiles.

'You have to ask her about it,' she answers. 'But don't worry. Without my son, she's not your enemy.'

Another hour later, you hear footsteps coming your way. You know it's not Baghra, who's visiting you quite often, as they don't sound like hers. You look, curious, at the door to your cell and a moment later you see a guard and… Zoya.

'Have you come to kill me?' you ask.

'No,' your former friend simply denies and nods at the guard. He unlocks and opens the door to your cell. The Squaller walks inside and he closes the door behind her, but doesn't lock it. Then, he leaves. Zoya sits on a chair usually occupied by Baghra. She crosses her legs and looks at you.

You're sitting on a chair. You're thin, almost all skin and bone. Your complexion is grey. There are dark circles under your eyes. Your hair is matte. You look like a ghost.

'Then why are you here?' you ask. Nazyalensky sighs… and tells you everything about jurda parem. By the end of her story, you're frowning.

'That is… I've always known Fjerdans are bastards but what they did to those Grisha…' you say and shake your head. 'Still… I don't know why you have come to me.'

'We need to find an antidote,' Zoya explains. 'And you're the brightest person we know.'

'I'm not a Alkemi, though,' you say, frowning. 'And since Bo Yul-Bayur was one… you need another one to create an antidote for his work.'

'We don't have an Alkemi smart enough, apparently,' the Squaller says. 'And since you're a Durast-'

'It's not the same. We have completely different abilities.'

'Maybe. But you're still the smartest person I know. If you can't figure it out, no one can.'

You look away. You think about it in silence.

'Please, [Y/N],' Nazyalensky says quietly. 'David believes in you. So does Baghra. And… I do, too.'

'Trying to use my sentiment, well played,' you say.

'I'm not trying to manipulate you,' Zoya snaps. 'I'm not-'

She stops herself. She goes pale. You close your eyes.

'I still find it funny,' you say quietly. 'He manipulated everyone. I was manipulated by everyone but him.'

'I know he said with his last breath he loved you…' the Squaller says slowly, '… but he still didn't deserve you.'

'Perhaps,' you concede. Silence falls between you two again.

'Fine,' you finally say. 'I can try at least.'

'What do you want in return?' Zoya, who's relieved but also wary, asks. You look at her with a frown.

'I care about Grisha, too, you know,' you say. 'I want them to be safe as much as you all do. But since I can ask for something… there's one thing I want.'

*

A few months have passed since you've been officially pardoned and released from prison. It felt nice to return to your old room and not to have your hands bound. But other Grisha, obviously, don't trust you and look at you with disdain. You ignore them.

Together with David and other Materialki you try to find an antidote for jurda parem. It's not going well. One day, you even throw a mortar at the wall. David stares at it with wide eyes. You exhale slowly and run a hand through your hair.

'You know, I think it was simpler with the skiff,' you say.

'It is complex,' Kostyk says. 'Give yourself time. We're getting there.'

'And how much of that time I have?' you ask. 'The only reason I'm out of the cell is because you believed I can figure something out. When does Nikolay's patience runs out and I go back there?'

'It won't happen,' the Durast promises. You smile sadly at him. He decides to take your mind of this.

'Did you think what will you do after we find an antidote?' he asks. 'Will you… stay?'

'I am not welcome here,' you say after a beat. 'I… I don't know what I am going to do. They say, "follow your heart", but if your heart is in a million pieces, which piece do you follow?'

You blink away the tears. David looks at you with sorrow.

'You know… I miss him sometimes, too,' he admits and you look at him with interest. 'He… had something about him. A charisma. He drew us all in. We felt safe, needed. I believe that he actually cared and wanted to make Ravka better. Or at least better for Grisha. I don't think he was evil. He… just lived too long.'

'Sometimes I think so, too, ' you agree quietly. 'But then I think we didn't have enough time.'

'Did he… tell you he loved you?' Kostyk asks hesitantly.

'They were his last words,' you answer after a beat. 'For weeks I wondered whether he feels what I feel. And when I finally got a confirmation… I couldn't even be happy about it.'

You look down. The Durast wants to reach to you and squeeze your hand. But while you work, joke and spend time together… you're not as close as you used to be. He still wants to comfort you somehow.

'I'm sure you hear others gossiping,' he says after a moment. 'That he didn't and was just manipulating you. I don't believe it. He truly cared about you. I saw it. When he was dragging you away from workshop, so you could rest, for example. He was also more relaxed around you… more cheerful. And yes, it was friendship at first. But at some point, I noticed that he was looking at you differently than he used to.'

You smile at him, grateful for his words. But he's not done yet.

'When he was leading me to the workshop in the mansion,' he continues, 'he said you're there and you're definitely going to be happy to see me. He… he seemed so happy he can brighten your day. He always was like that with you.'

'If you won't stop, I'm really going to cry,' you chuckle, trying really not to break down. 'Thank you, though.'

David nods. You go for the mortar you've thrown and return to work. Your fellow Durast observes you.

'I think, though, that you deserve more,' he says after a moment. You look at him, curious.

'You deserve to be someone's priority,' he explains. 'And while there's no doubt Kirigan loved you… he cared more about the Fold and power.'

'Thank you, David,' you say. 'I… I think I really needed to hear all that you said. About… him… and me as well.'

Just then Tolya Yul-Bataar shows up at the door. He looks at you grimly.

'Speaking of,' you say and pack your things. 'See you in a week.'

'Until next week,' Kostyk says, nodding. You smile at him and leave with grumpy Tolya. You go outside and mount your horses. You set off immediately.

A few days later you reach your destination. You ride through an open space that used to be the Fold for so many centuries. Finally, you stop and dismount. Tolya stays with the horses and you continue on foot for a moment longer. At last, you stop and stare at the ground.

This is your price for helping with an antidote. Every two months, you're to travel here with someone, not always Tolya. To the place where Aleksander died. It's your way to deal with grief. At first, you wanted to come here every month. But since travelling there and back takes about a week, you agreed for two months. You're relieved Nikolay agreed at all.

'So, here I am again,' you start. 'Missing you the same way I did three years ago. I told you, didn't I? That I would never forget you. Three years it's probably not much for you, since you've lived hundreds of years. But I know you'd want me to move on by now. I don't think that's ever going to happen. You'd probably be frustrated by that.'

You exhale slowly. You can hear Tolya pacing behind you, but still giving you some privacy. You know he wishes to go back already.

'To be honest, I'm a bit frustrated, too,' you admit and your lip trembles. 'You were never supposed to mean this much to me. I was never supposed to fall so hard. But you know what? I did and that's the truth. That's what keeps me holding on, because it hurts like hell to let you go.'

Tears stream down your face. You don't stop them this time. You sniffle.

'It's hard without you,' you whisper. 'I feel lost. I don't know what to do. I wish you took me with you that day. Maybe then everything would be different.'

You fall silent. You think of what else to say, as you remember your last moments together. You saved him from merzost. But he died anyway. Still… at least you had that one last night. You smile at the memory.

'I don't know what will I do in the future,' you finally say. 'But I will find an antidote for jurda parem. And protect the Grisha. Because that's what you'd want. You'd want them to be safe and healthy. Mind you, you'd probably want to rip Fjerdans apart for what they're doing.'

You chuckle. Then, you kneel and press your hand to the sand. You focus on the ground beneath it for a moment, remembering how you held Kirigan in that spot three years ago. Your heart breaks, when you remember how he fought for his breath. But he still tried to hold on, wanting to at least tell you how he really feels.

'Until next time, Aleksander,' you whisper and stand up. You turn and return to Tolya. He fails to mask his relief that it's finally time to go. You almost roll your eyes, but you understand that most feel uneasy here. You don't. Not anymore.

'Done?' Tolya asks.

'Yes,' you confirm, mounting your horse. The Heartrender does the same.

'We can go back,' you say and you look at the place where the Darkling gave his last breath. 'I'm done here for today.'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/134689462

[darklinaforever]

I hate anti-tag on many levels. Particularly because for the most part, it is just so as not to disturb fans who idealize a character and his actions. Yes, it helps when you particularly hate a character. But why have to put the anti tag when you're talking about the canonical actions of a character or their simple nature ? Literally, it's like the anti-Greens tag, it's just there so as not to offend those who stubbornly refuse to see them as bad guys, when that's just what they are, not to mention the fact of not disrupt the headcanons they believe are canon that they invented for these characters. Same for Star Wars. Why do I have to put the anti tag on the Jedi because I say that they are not perfect, nuanced or even corrupt for some and that the institution has problematic values? That's just the reality of the Jedi, but no, should I put critical or anti in the tag for that? Or when we talk about the character of Mal Oretsev from Grisha ? Its bad writing problematic at this point it's just a plain fact of the text. Why do I have to put anti when it's just the reality of this fictional character? Basically the tag dedicated to Mal only has people idealizing her? I find that there is a huge paradox in this tag. Same when I talk about Dramione and Romione, but I specify that I don't hate Romione (even like her a little) nor hate Ron. I still have to put anti romione or anti ron, or altogether not put them in the tags, even if I actually talked about them. This is all ridiculous. Normally, the anti tag is for when you talk about characters you ardently hate, often implying a biased judgment, or even going so far as to invent crimes for them for certain anti... Because they ironically tend to invent other bad actions for these characters they hate, as if what had been done basicly was not enough, proving that they are generally in exaggeration.

[padfootagain]

The Last Ones on Earth (II)

Chapter 2 : A Meeting

Hi everyone! Here is the second chapter for my Darkling series!

I’m going to keep the same structure for the chapters throughout the series, in case you’re wondering about that…

I hope you like it! Let me know what you think!

****

Pairing: The Darkling x reader

Warnings for the series: mentions and depictions of violence and warfare, mentions of trauma

Warnings for the chapter: None

Summary: You and the Darkling are a team, even if no one knows it. Beyond being a team, you are the only one he trusts, and he's the only one you care about, and you're each other's true love. But if you've kept your secrets hidden for a long time, now that the Sun Summoner is fighting against you, it's time to reveal who you are, and what you are capable of...

Word Count: 4333

Masterlist for the series – The Darkling’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

The chains are heavy around your wrists, but you’re not surprised. You hate being bound though. You were bound before, many times. You hate the feeling of it: the impediment, the feeling of being useless, of having no way to fight. That’s the worst part of it all. Being unable to defend yourself, even if it is to last for a mere moment.

You used to be defenceless; you’re not anymore. You’re too talented for this kind of trap.

If you expected the chains, you’re surprised when you’re guided to a dusty room of an abandoned house, to meet directly with Alina. You thought it would take a little more convincing than that… after all, you barely talked to her at all at the Little Palace, you don’t expect that she would trust you.

You’re even more surprised when you don’t find just Alina in the dimly lit room, but Nikolai Lantsov as well, along with David, Genya, Zoya and Mal Oretsev. What a merry gathering…

David’s head snaps up when he sees you, a mixture of a frown and a smile spreading on his features as he looks up at you.

You like him. He’s kind and dangerously intelligent, although a little too naïve. You’re happy to see him in good health…

“Take a seat,” says Nikolai with a wide smile, one that oozes charm but you’re not fooled.

You oblige nevertheless, resting your bound hands on your laps, hidden under the table. No one objects to your gesture.

The fools…

Your expression remains neutral, but you can see that they don’t expect it. You should be afraid, intimidated by the group before you.

But you’ve lived too long for that. And today, many masks will have to fall.

“I’m sorry about the chains,” Alina finally spoke. “We just need to make sure that you’re really on our side before letting you go as you please around this place.”

“I understand,” you reassure her.

Everyone, except for Mal, is sitting around the same round table, just as you are: Alina directly before you, Nikolai and Zoya by her sides. Behind Alina, Mal’s figure hovers, a grim look on his face. You guess he’s trying to look threatening, he looks rather ridiculous in comparison to what you can look like if you want to. Genya and David are sitting next to Zoya. They’re all clustered around the other half of the table though, letting a safe distance separate you from the group.

It will take more than that to save their skins if you decide to kill them.

“David told us that you’re a Durast,” Nikolai speaks, studying you carefully. “Why aren’t you wearing a purple kefta then?”

“Ravka is not particularly safe for Grisha these days, in case you haven’t noticed,” you answer with a humourless smile. “Traveling as an otkazat’sya is much safer.”

“Blame the Darkling for that,” mumbles Zoya.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.”

All of them look at you with a frown. They focus on your words, on your expression that’s still coldly neutral. They don’t notice the way your fingers move under the table. The leather of your gloves moves in perfect sync with your fingers, you’ve made these to fit your hands to perfection, like a second skin. Fabrikator made. And made by you, of all people. No one but Aleksander really knows what that means though. No one knows why you never take these gloves off either. You remember many of the stories that ran though the corridors and bedchambers of the Little Palace along the years: a strange hereditary sickness, old burns from an experiment that went sour, some even thought your hands weren’t real, that you had been born handless and had built prosthetics instead. All ideas more ridiculous than the other, and none of them being anywhere near the truth. Good. It made you unimportant in the Little Palace, and that is probably why no one notices the way your fingers dance under the table, why no one asks to see your hands now. Why would they? They don’t have the kind of powers you do, anyway.

“You said that you had escaped the Darkling. How did you do it?” Alina asks, tilting her head a little to the side, narrowing her eyes at you, studying your reaction.

But you smile, because it took you but a few seconds to use your powers. No need to stall.

“I didn’t. I’m here to talk to you, on his behalf.”

They all lean back at that, in what you recognize as fear. You smile. Aleksander most definitely succeeded at making them see him as the villain…

“Did he send you here to kill us?” Genya asks, and you can hear in her voice that she’s trying to reach a firm tone, but fails, her voice remains unsteady.

“Not necessarily,” you shrug, genuinely unbothered by the prospect of killing everyone in the room. “It will depend on how the negotiations will go.”

“So, if we don’t yield, you’ll try to kill us? These are very poor terms for negotiations,” Nikolai complains.

But Mal chuckles, and you raise a surprised eyebrow at that.

“You use threats, when you are alone here, your hands bound. You are powerless,” he points out.

You give him a toothy grin, it looks thirsty for blood, and you kind of are. He pisses you off. You almost long to cut his throat. Almost.

“Poor me,” is all you answer.

Meanwhile, your fingers continue their silent dance under the table. And all of them are fooled.

And you reckon that the long years spent sacrificing a part of your intimacy with Aleksander are worth it. Because no one knows who you are, what you are truly capable of. And so, no one thinks that you are a real threat. They don’t pay attention to the slight hissing sound of metal moving near the doorframe, or the light thud noise coming from the corridor, or the barely audible click ringing near your wrists.

You were right to remain hidden for years. It pays off now.

“So, what do you have to negotiate? Your surrender?” offers Nikolai, and you chuckle with him when you catch his eyes.

You like him. He’s more eager for power than he pretends to be, like everyone is, like Alina, like Aleksander… but he’s nice enough. He’s be a better king than his supposed-father, you have no real doubt about that.

“I’m afraid not. Although, I will gladly accept yours,” you answer in the same humorous tone, and Nikolai is impressed, even though he won’t admit it.

“As Mal pointed out, you don’t exactly have the upper-hand here. Our men are patrolling the area, they’ve confirmed that you’ve come here alone.”

“Indeed, there’s no one else. And there won’t be.”

“So… the Darkling sent you to your death, and you accepted?” Zoya asked, mocking you.

And you’ve never been fond of her, but you pity her more than anything else. She has much to learn still.

“I can handle myself perfectly well,” you give her a smile. “Besides, this was my idea.”

“Your idea? Does the Darkling even know you’re here?”

“Of course, he does. We’re a team, he and I. We have been so, for a long time.”

And Alina seems to realize something. A flash of understanding passes through her features, and you almost feel sorry for her. She really doesn’t understand a thing…

“Maeve, the Darkling manipulates everyone. And he might have made you feel like you’re special, but you’re not. Not to him. I know what it feels like, it was not your fault. He used this on me too, and I almost fell for it.”

Maeve. It’s the name you’re wearing these days. You’re used to it, enough so to react as if it were your own. It isn’t. It tastes bitter on your tongue every time you have to speak it to introduce yourself. But the only ones who know your true identity are Baghra and Aleksander. No one else.

They’ve taken even that from you. Even your name…

“You did fall for it,” you correct her with a disgusted wince. “I can’t believe you did, he wasn’t even subtle about it.”

She frowns at that.

“You knew he was…” her voice trails off, as if she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words.

“Seducing you?” you complete her sentence for her, and she winces but doesn’t deny it. “Of course, I did. It was plan A. But Baghra got us in trouble, again. Is she alright, by the way? I heard she was with you. Is she unharmed?”

“Are you really worried about Baghra?” Genya asks, puzzled.

“Yes, I am. Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” Alina answers in a glare.

“Good. I’m sure she drives you all crazy. Keep you on your toes.”

“You said that the Darkling manipulating Alina was ‘plan A’,” said Nikolai, pulling the conversation back on track. “So what is plan B, then?”

“This. This is plan B.”

Nikolai can’t hold back a laugh.

“You surrendering to us, chained, and trying to talk your way out of a genocide… this is plan B?”

“Well, when you say it like that, it’s not that appealing, I’ll admit.”

During the whole conversation, David has been staring at you, clearly puzzled, trying to make sense of what is happening. You reckon it’s the longest he’s ever stared at someone in his life. He remains silent though.

But Genya seems to notice the way you glance over at your fellow Durast, with genuine fondness, and she frowns at the sight, distorting a little more her scarred features.

You feel sorry for her at the sight. She suffered too much to deserve that. You didn’t approve Aleksander’s decisions when it came to Genya. You reckon he has failed her, and so in a way, you did too.

“When you arrived here, David said that he knew you well. That you were nice to him. That you were a friend.”

“He is my friend.”

“And you’re on the Darkling’s side?”

You heave a sigh at that.

“There is no other side to choose from, Genya. We’ve tried. Many times. It never works. The Fold is the only thing we haven’t tried yet.”

“To do what? Kill everyone?” Mal breathes through gritted teeth.

“To protect the Grisha,” you answer in a cold tone.

You lean over the table, but keep your hands hidden on your lap. You stare at this boy, who looks at you as if he knew everything better than you do. He is so young. He is but a drop of water in the flowing river of time. You’ve seen hundreds, thousands of boys like him before. They’re always wrong.

“What happens in your righteous plan? Once the Fold is destroyed, and the Darkling is dead? You try to rebuild Ravka with Nikolai as a King, I suppose. Alina must reach martyrdom if she wants to be a saint, so she’s out of the picture the second the Fold no longer exists, whether she might be truly dead or in hiding. And what happens next? You build a new Second Army? And then what?”

“We can make Ravka better,” Alina argues. “We can make it a safe place for Grisha.”

“People don’t change so fast, Alina,” you shake your head. “Your politics might change, but the people won’t. They’ll keep on slaughtering us, the way they always have, at any given occasion. And what do you do about Fjerda in your brilliant plan? About the Grisha who are burnt alive like witches? About the Shu Han who dissect us alive in the name of science? About the Kerch who buy us as slaves? About the Grisha taken from their family in the Isles to be sold? What do you do about them, in your great plan?”

“What did the Darkling do about them?” she answers out of spite.

“Not much,” you admit. “Not nearly enough. That’s why we need the Fold. Because then, it’s not only Ravka who will be frightened, it’s the entire world.”

“Grisha don’t survive the Fold more than otkazat’sya do.”

“That’s not the point. The point is not to commit a genocide, the point is to have a weapon powerful enough to commit one.”

“What about the villages you’ve destroyed then?” Zoya asks, and you know that her voice trembles because of the family she lost in one of the movements of the Fold. “What about the families you’ve slaughtered, the innocents, the children.”

But you’ve heard that argument before, and she’s surprised when you’re genuinely unmoved by it.

The fools…

“How many children are killed every year because they are Grisha? Have you ever tried to make a count of that, Zoya? I’m not particularly moved by your argument, indeed. I’ve seen too much death for that.”

“So you want revenge,” Alina says, more of a statement than a question, and you don’t like the way her tone is judgemental, almost disdainful.

You laugh at her. A full-on laugh.

“Ha, little Saint,” you mock, and she’s taken aback by your words and your tone. “You are very naïve. That was the whole problem, you see? The Darkling thought you were too young, too innocent, to understand what needs to be done, and I agreed, but I still thought that telling you the truth would help. He thought it was useless, and that manipulation would be more efficient.”

“I’m not so naïve,” she answers, clenching her jaw, a look of defiance in her gaze, and you notice the way the others see it as bravery. It isn’t though. It’s just pride.

“You’re running around the country looking for amplifiers, because you crave for power, more than you are willing to admit even to yourself. That’s the game you’re playing, Alina. Power calls for power. Once you’ve had a taste of it, you can never have enough.”

“You sound like Baghra.”

“I’ve had many years to hear all about her mantras. Do not think yourself so above me, Alina. You’re young, it makes you eager and candid. It doesn’t make you righteous.”

You heave a sigh, leaning back into your chair.

“I still believe that we can make an alliance. We’ll go my way this time: I’ll tell you everything, we can negotiate terms, and we can work together to make sure that the Fold is properly used, and that no one will ever die simply because they were born Grisha ever again.”

“There will be no negotiations when it comes to the destruction of the Fold,” argues Nikolai, his tone firm, decisive.

“It won’t work without it. We’ll be back to square one, all over again,” you argue. “We’ll be back with a King on the Throne for whom we are not a priority, and with all our neighbouring countries happily slaughtering us all or making us their pretty toys to play with like pets ready for a parade. We need the Fold. We need its potential destruction to ensure that it will stop. Only when our societies are changed will we be able to get rid of it, but it will take centuries to do so. And while we wait, we need insurance. And that’s what the Fold is about.”

“You have little faith in people,” Nikolai points out.

You chuckle at that.

“I do. They haven’t proven me wrong, so far, either.”

But Mal is getting impatient, annoyed even. He shakes his head.

“This is ridiculous. We will get nowhere with this.”

Alina heaves a sigh.

“It’s late, let’s talk tomorrow morning.”

But you shake your head, shooting them a grin.

“I’m afraid no one is leaving this room before we’ve reached an agreement. Or… at the very least, we have fully debated our options.”

“Should we truly remind you who is in chains right now?” Zoya asks, rolling her eyes.

But she’s taken aback when you laugh at her.

“Oh, you mean… these chains?”

You lift your hands above the table, at long last, carrying the heavy metallic chains so that all can see that you are free of them.

They all stare at you, cautious now. You see Mal’s hand moving towards the gun at his side.

“Have I ever told you that I am an incredibly powerful Durast?” you speak as you lower the chains to put them on the table, keeping your free hands on display to make sure that they see that they are unbound, but also to show them that you are not using your powers for now. “I don’t need my hands to touch to use my powers anymore. I don’t even need my hands at all, if I focus enough, but it is pretty tiring.”

“How did you get that kind of power?” Genya asks, her voice shaking.

“I was born with it,” you answer matter-of-factly.

Mal’s fingers close on his weapon, and you shake your head, resting your chin on both your hands.

“Oretsev, I’m not stupid. I’ve made sure that no weapon in this room is usable anymore. No need to reach for your gun. It won’t do you any good. Besides, I would prefer if we could discuss all this like responsible adults, sitting casually around this table, but I will bound all of you to your chairs if I need to. I will barely need a second to do so. So, please, don’t tempt me too much.”

“That’s enough,” Alina stands up, angry now, and you let her stride towards the door. But she struggles against the doorknob, and it doesn’t budge.

“No need to tire yourself out, I’ve locked the door,” you explain. “Even David is not powerful enough to open it. Oh, and there’s no need to try and call for the two guards stationed at the door either. I’ve killed them both.”

All around the table look at you with round eyes.

You smile at them.

The fools…

“You would be surprised how easy it is to kill someone with something as small as a brass button.”

You turn around to look at Alina, who is still standing, aghast, by the door.

“Now, can we start truly talking? Or do I really need to tie your arse to a chair?”

Three weeks earlier

An abandoned house near Adena

“We have talked about this a hundred times. You are not fighting anymore.”

His voice was colder than usual that night. Because he was tired, because he was in pain, because he was worried. And there you were, bringing back this same debate you had gone through so many times before…

“I’m probably the most powerful Grisha here, right after you. And you’re not even considering using my abilities…”

“You are not fighting, Y/N. End of story.”

But you shook your head, crossing your arms before your chest. He was wearing his commanding voice now, the one he used as a general. But you were not a mere soldier in his obedient army, and he knew it. He wasn’t surprised when you stood straighter, when you glared at him.

There was so much fire in you. He had always loved that about you, the passion burning behind your eyes, always mingled with something softer, tender almost.

It was tainted with sorrow and rage now, but he still found the same glint he adored. Seeing a trace of it was enough. You had changed, and he couldn’t blame you. He had changed tremendously as well…

“This is ridiculous. You are being stubborn,” you argued.

And any other night, he would have raised his voice, and gotten mad at you, but he didn’t. He didn’t, because he was tired, because he was in pain, because he was worried. If he were to be honest with himself, he would even admit that he was afraid. And at that moment, he didn’t need to argue with you. He needed to be with you, just for a moment.

You frowned when he didn’t answer, merely staring at you. He had used his nichevo’ya during the day, while you raided an encampment filled with Grisha prisoners. You knew it cost him much to summon them, although, you weren’t sure how much. These were uncharted territories. A new way of using his powers that even you couldn’t fully comprehend.

Slowly, you let your arms fall to your sides, a frown remaining on your brow, but it grew out of worry now.

“Aleksander? Are you alright?”

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

“You didn’t answer.”

“And?”

“You’re not the type to let anyone have the last word in any conversation.”

He smiled at that, his gesture fond, as he held out his hand to you.

It was the middle of the afternoon. Neither of you had changed clothes after the raid. You were dirty, sweaty, covered with dust, ashes, the harsh smell of smoke still glued to your skins. Still, you stepped into his embrace the second he opened his arms for you.

You smelled of fire, of fear, of blood. He had to breathe too deeply to finally catch your scent: lilac, pine trees, a river running through a summer afternoon…

“Are you in pain?” you asked him, voice gentle now, as you soothingly rubbed your hands up and down his back.

He nodded.

“Do you want me to call for a Healer?” you asked next, but he shook his head.

“I just want to rest,” he admitted. “And I want you to be safe.”

“Aleks…”

“No, please, listen to me…”

“I am one of the most powerful Durasts who ever existed, and we’re wasting my powers by keeping me in this house.”

“Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I saw you there? When I saw you fighting?”

“I can fight.”

“I know you can. That is not the point.”

He held your face in both his hands.

“You are the most powerful Durast who has ever lived,” he spoke, voice low and deep and genuine under his intense gaze. “You could kill me without moving a finger. That is not the point. I know you can fight. But I am terrified whenever you do. I need you, do you understand?”

“Of course, I do. I need you as well. But this… love, we don’t have time for this. We can’t be as cautious as we usually are.”

“If we win, and you’re not here anymore, it would all have been for nothing to me.”

“Don’t say that… it will still help the Grisha…”

“But it won’t help you. You need to stop fighting. You need to stop…”

“I won’t stop.”

“Y/N… darling…”

“No, Aleks. I can take care of myself. You will not change my mind. I’ll keep fighting. Until we’re done with Alina and the others, I’ll keep fighting. Just like we used to. Together.”

He heaved a sigh. Painful, slow, but you knew you had won all the same.

“As you wish. But if you die, I’ll destroy everything in Ravka. You are warned.”

You knew he was serious, you knew he would do it. He loved you enough for that, just like he loved you enough to listen to you when you calmed him down.

You nodded, holding him tightly again.

“We need to deal with Alina and her tracker,” you breathed against his shoulder, the kefta ripped over his collarbone because of a bullet it stopped that morning during the raid. You could still smell gunpowder on his clothes.

“And Lantsov as well. The pup is back, probably looking for our blood.”

“Probably. Or well, yours more than mine. He has no idea who I am. But you’re insufferable enough for the entirety of Ravka to try and get your head.”

He chuckled, the sound deep, like thunder rolling on a summer evening.

“Insufferable? Really?”

“Indeed.”

“Even to you? Even after all this time?”

“Hmm… now you know how much I love you.”

You brushed your nose across his cheek, his beard tickling you; the gesture tender, intimate.

“How do you propose we deal with Alina Starkov?” you asked him after a long pause.

“I can still call for her, we are still bound together. I can still try to control her from afar. But I doubt it will be enough.”

“We should talk to her. Tell her what will happen if we don’t do this. There is no other way, she must see that.”

“I’ve tried to convince her…”

“But I haven’t.”

He frowned, pulling away enough to look at you, study your features with great care.

“You want to go and talk to her? That would be too much of a risk.”

“They have no idea what I’m capable of. I can lie, tell her that I want to turn against you. That I have information. She’ll see me. David is there, and we were close friends before all this, he’ll convince her. I’ll talk to her.”

“And if she doesn’t listen?”

You shrugged.

“We’ll see. But we don’t need her help to control her powers. I’ll work on that. If she is too stubborn, we can still use the stag’s bones again, only, in a different way. I have a few theories about that.”

Slowly, he nodded.

“We’ll discuss this later. I am too tired to take such a decision now. My head is not clear enough to weigh our options.”

You ran a hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help the way he closed his eyes under your touch, relaxing as soon as your fingers brushed across his hair.

“But then again, you are the most powerful Durast who has ever lived,” he repeated himself. “If there is anyone who can solve our problem with the Sun Summoner, it’s you, my darling.”

“It can wait until tomorrow morning though,” you pleaded. “For tonight, what about a bath together? We haven’t had one of those in a long time.”

He grinned, you had not seen him smile so much in what felt like years.

“That sounds perfect, darling.”

************************************

@wolfmoonmusic @reg-arcturus-black @sayumiht

[ncarnesir]

A Story of her Own

This is the story of a Sun Summoner that is much much older than the Darkling and is looking for her own haven if one might say. Can Aleksander be that for her? Is it even what she's looking for? Well you'll have to read the story to know ;)

Art on the moodboard is from Abel Klaer

Back in 2021, after watching Shadow and Bone for the first time, I somehow got inspired and started writing. And the result was this, my very first fanfic, A Story of her Own.

To be honest, there are a lot of cringe parts specially in the beginning and you can tell I'm newbie writer, but I'm still super proud of it. What I'm less proud of is that it's still not finished, but I've been working a lot on it recently so maybe I'm finally going to complete this.

I am taking a looooot of liberties in this, regarding canon, the magic system, the history of the world. But I do think it's at least coherent. Also there's a lot of smut because... I like that.

Chapters: 41/~70

Fandom: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Zoya Nazyalensky, Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Zoya Nazyalensky/Mal Oretsev

Characters: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, Baghra (The Grisha Trilogy), Genya Safin, Zoya Nazyalensky, Ivan (The Grisha Trilogy), Fedyor Kaminsky, Nikolai Lantsov, Nina Zenik

Additional Tags: Darklina - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Endgame The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Mutual Pining, Simp The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, BAMF Alina Starkov, Morally Grey Alina Starkov, Sankta Alina Starkov, Older Alina, Older Woman/Younger Man, Who's scheming really ?, Morally Ambiguous Character, different POV, Minor Character Death, mild graphic depiction of violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempts, annoying pet names, Mention of triggering subjects coming in the future, Potentially more graphic depiction of violence coming in the future, Unlucky Zoya, Sun Soldier Malyen, BFF Genya, We hate Baghra, Scheming Nikolai, Apparat is not a bad guy, Several Explicit Sex Scene, Dubious Consent, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Dream Sex, Manipulative sex, Rough Sex, Minor sex scene between The Darkling / Zoya (before Alina), Minor oral sex scene between Malyen / Alina, Personal interpretation of how amplifiers work, Personal interpretation of different grishaverse myths, Mainly based on the show, And the Wiki, English is not my 1st language, English is not my beta’s 1st language either, This thing is a full story (with plenty of smut for fun), Rated non-con because, Dream sex she doesn't know is not really a dream, Kissing while the other is not aware, NO rape

Summary:

Everyone always supposed the Sun Summoner would appear one day, the Darkling first, but somehow, they never imagined that maybe she was already there, among them.

Or how Alina is much older than she looks like and is playing a game of her own.

[ryoryeonggu]

So, speaking of season 3... I'm curious about what would be Mal's storyline in the next season. The guy just found out about his family and his amplifier status just one day ago before he decided to die and literally died. So when he finally gets on his own and has time to heal, has time to process things, would he be interested in learning more about his root? Morozova family? Since their story still tied to "consequence of using merzost", "creating amplifiers" and Shadow Summoners, which will also tie to dark!Alina arc in season 3 (and possibly potential solutions). Besides, Mal has spent time studying and reading stuff when he searched for the Firebird (I wish they had shown us more about it) and that's how he learnt about Sankta Neyar and the Neshyener Sword. He might have time to do a little side mission before (or while) he and the crew are trying to find out what the heck of a mess are happening in Ravka xD

And since he brought back to life by merzost (the same thing that Baghara's father did to bring back her sister), what will happen to him now? What is he now? What is the consequence of using merzost that Baghra has warned them about, is it truly just about Alina? So many questions.

[bi-bard]

Your Past and Mine are Parallel Lines; Stars All Aligned and They Intertwined - Mal Oretsev Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: Your Past and Mine are Parallel Lines; Stars All Aligned and They Intertwined

Pairing: Mal Oretsev X Reader

Word Count: 2,271 words

Warning(s): mention of stealing, slight self-worth issues

Summary: [Inspired by "All of the Girls You Loved Before" by Taylor Swift] [Post-Season 2 Finale] Mal takes on the title of Sturmhond and soon meets a thief for hire, (Y/n). He recruits them at the direction of Tamar and Tolya, not realizing how much his life was going to change after that.

Author's Note: I think the show version of Mal is over hated. That's my hot take of the day.

Also, I've been looking for an excuse to use this song because who am I if I don't write a story for every Taylor Swift song that I can get my hands on.

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I couldn't help that sometimes I would go a while without a job.

I couldn't help that the idea of being tied to a single crew made me just a little sick to my stomach.

I had to get by somehow. I could usually get hired quickly and get some decent pay, but sometimes when the chips are down, you need a little extra to get you by.

It always felt silly going back to stealing out of coat pockets or off of wrists. It made me feel like a kid again. But I guess it made for good practice.

I wasn't one to get caught. Mainly because I didn't get too excited. I was careful. I knew what I could get away with grabbing and what I couldn't. I knew when certain crowds were more observant than others.

When I found a very crowded bar, I knew that I could get away with far more than I could on a street somewhere.

I scanned the room as subtly as I could.

My eyes immediately latched onto the gold compass hanging on a man's neck. It was hanging low enough that my hand wouldn't look too obvious when I reached up. There was so much on the man's neck that I doubted he would notice it leaving his neck.

I was quiet, careful. I moved as normally as I could until I got close enough to the man. I offered a small smile, acting like I just needed to get around him as I snagged the compass from around his neck.

I was certain that he hadn't noticed.

I was almost to the door when I heard a voice behind me, clearer than the voices of the other patrons, "Hey! Give that back!"

I shoved the last person between me and the door out of my way as I took off running.

I took off down the main road until I could find an alleyway.

As I continued through the twists and turns, trying to put as much distance between me and the man as possible, I found myself almost laughing. That rare for me. I usually just got my work done and got away as soon as possible. I never took the time to enjoy it. But this... this was different.

I yelled as my arm was snagged.

I was turned around and shoved back against the wall of the alley. I was left face-to-face with the man that I had been running from. He was holding both of my wrists against the wall. His grip was tight enough that I was certain that there was going to be a bruise left behind.

"Let me go!" I snapped.

"Give me back my compass," he replied.

I just pulled at my arms again, trying to get free. I tried to kick at him, but none of my hits were landing.

A new voice spoke up, "(Y/n)?"

I looked over at the new voice. "Tolya?"

"You know them?" the man holding my wrists turned to look at Tolya.

Tolya nodded. "We worked with them ages ago."

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n)," Tamar explained, walking around the man to stand on his other side. I looked at her, a small grin on my face. "Quick, clever, fiercely independent, and always aware of every single escape route. Thief for hire."

"Hey!" I snapped.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't call me that!"

"What are you then," the man asked.

"More of a tracker. I'm just better at tracking more... notable things than just animals. I'm more than just a thief."

The man looked at the compass in my hand, raising his eyebrow a bit.

"Don't get all high and mighty about this," I said. "You don't truly think that I wouldn't recognize Sturmhond's compass, do you? If anything, I'm in the first steps to returning his property."

"That's a fun story, actually," Tolya replied.

"Why?"

"Because he's Sturmhond," he pointed at the man.

I scoffed. "Nice try. Sturmhond's blonde... and a little less of a prick."

The man glared at me.

"You're holding me against a wall, I can call you a prick."

"He had the title passed to him," Tamar explained. "Meaning that compass is his now."

"Well then, I'll return it once my arms are released."

"Sturmhond" relented, letting my arms go. I saw Tamar shift, ensuring that I couldn't run for it. I offered a fake smile before placing the compass in the man's palm.

"So, if Sturmhond's a title, do I get to know your true name?"

"Mal."

"That was easier to get out of you than I expected," I muttered. "These two introduced me already. And I'd say that it's nice to meet you, but that would be dishonest."

"Still jumping from job to job," Tolya asked.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

"We're doing good work," Tamar said. "You should join us. Get out of here."

"Why would I do that?"

"Get away from the city with your face plastered on wanted posters."

I looked at Mal.

"Wouldn't you rather take your hood off for a while and not fear being arrested?"

I took a deep breath. "Getting out of the city doesn't mean that no one is going to hunt for me."

"I have a personal connection to the king. I could get him to ensure your safety."

I paused, looking between the trio.

"One trip," Mal pushed. "After that, we can drop you wherever you'd like to go or you can continue traveling with us. Your decision."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Fine. One trip. That's it."

"Yes!" Tolya pushed his way past Mal to hug me. "I've been waiting for you to join us."

"I'm certain you have," I muttered. He finally stepped back. "So, when do I get to see the ship?"

That one trip turned into two. Two into three. And on and on and on.

Mal and I patched things up rather quickly after our... unfortunate first meeting. We went from a shaky partnership to a far more genuine friendship.

We were often paired up together when working. According to Tamar, our skills paired up well together. According to Tolya's smile when he saw the both of us, I knew there was something else on both of their minds. Tolya had read too much poetry to simply let things lie where they were.

They did have a point.

Mal and I worked well together when he wasn't the one that I was stealing from. I had grown very used to being around him. It was great.

I was convinced that it was simply a good friendship. Two people looking past a bad first impression and finding similarities where they didn't expect to.

Until one night.

We were in the middle of a mission. I was tasked with sneaking a key off of a man. He wore it around his neck, easy within reach so he could brag about his high-paying work to any poor bastard who would listen.

His voice was grating. And it only got worse the more that he drank.

I had to wait for him to get shitfaced before I could make any move.

He was focused on yelling at different people around the bar. He was trying to show that he was the big man there. He was in charge.

He drunkenly called for a toast for little to no reason.

While everyone was chugging their drink from the toast, I passed by, snagging the key off of his throat. The alcohol had made it so he wasn't very observant. Good for me. I got out before he said anything.

No, it wasn't until I was a little way down the street that I heard a drunk yell of angry, slurred words.

I ran to the alleyway where Mal had been waiting for me so we could both get back to the ship. He let out a relieved huff when he finally spotted me.

"That took you ages-"

I pressed a hand over his mouth before silently motioning for him to stay quiet. He nodded. I pulled my hand back and fixed my eyes on the small part of the street that I could see from where I was.

The drunk man stumbled past the alley that we were hiding in. A few men were behind him.

"This feels very familiar," Mal mumbled after it seemed like the coast was clear.

"Last time we were in a place like this, you slammed me against a wall," I replied. "Planning a repeat incident, Mal?"

I turned to look at him. The breath was nearly knocked out of me. His eyes were completely trained on me. Studying me. Looking for so much detail that it almost forced my heart to stop where it was.

"Mal," I muttered. I couldn't tell what I was trying to do. Get his attention, give him a warning, give him permission.

He leaned forward, kissing me briefly before very quickly pulling away. He tried to ramble about which way we needed to go, but I stopped him, leaning in and kissing him again. Properly this time.

That was the night that everything between us shifted.

Mal immediately seemed more accustomed to being open about his feelings than I was. He made little to no effort to hide how the kiss had affected him. I was hesitant. I didn't want to face the chance that this could all blow up in my face.

But he wore me down.

Probably on accident.

He would never push anything. He would smile at me during meetings, protect me more when we were out, and compliment me more. He spoke in ways that reminded me of the poets Tolya had told me about.

We kissed again. In his office. If that was the right name for it.

It was soft. Less rushed than the first one. He whispered how much he wanted to be with me. I found myself agreeing with little hesitation.

And it was like something very suddenly clicked. Being with him suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world. Letting his hand touch mine was comforting instead of terrifying. Any future kisses felt like puzzle pieces clicking together instead of gut-churning.

It was all just... right.

We had always spent time together but this was so different. And it was worth any and all teasing we got for it. I was happy. I was finally truly happy.

I soon decided that the best times with Mal were during night watch.

On the nights that I was part of the night watch, Mal would often come up and spend time with me. We'd mumble quietly to each other as we watched the waters and the stars. It was nice. Probably the closest that our lives allowed for a date. Privateer work didn't really allow for romantic dinners or walks around town with our hands intertwined.

"Have I told you how much I've grown to really appreciate our nights out here," I asked one night.

"I think it's come up a few times now," he replied. "Why?"

I paused for a moment. "I just... I want you to know that I... I adore everything about this... about us. I don't think that I say it enough."

"I promise, you do," he said. "I really enjoy having this time with you too. These nights are my favorite. I feel like I get to see parts of you that you don't show other people. And I think they're amazing."

I looked down, feeling my face warm up. I heard a quiet chuckle come from Mal's lips.

"I'm sorry, am I seeing the great thief for hire be truly flustered for the first time," he moved so he was leaning in front of my face.

"Shut up," I grumbled, turning my head even further away. "I've just... I've never had someone talk about me like that... I've just always been an annoyance or a useful tool or something. To have someone talk about me like you just did... It's strange."

"A good strange?"

I turned back to him. He was now leaning against the railing of the ship, just looking at me. Not letting his attention drift for a second.

"Yeah," I replied. "A good strange."

He leaned over and kissed the side of my head.

I closed my eyes as he did, allowing myself to truly enjoy the moment while I had it.

"For what it's worth, this is all a very good strange to me too," Mal admitted as he pulled back.

"What do you mean?"

"It's... Well... The last time I was with someone like... this, I felt drawn to her," he explained. "Like I didn't have a choice in it. I was just meant to be... there. And then that feeling just disappeared. Suddenly, I didn't know what I was meant to do."

I took a deep breath, "And now?"

A grin pulled at his lips. "I feel like I had a choice in it... in this. I chose you... and it feels like one of the best things I've ever done."

I felt a grin of my own forming.

He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. His hand moved to cup the side of my face. My hand touched his and my lips followed his lead.

I leaned back first, smiling at him. "I... I love you, Mal."

"I love you too."

And it was like all of the steps to get to him fell away. Now, there was only him... this.

And I was perfectly happy to only see the love I had finally earned.

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