#order: heartrender

[aleksanderscult]

I've been rereading the *Shadow and Bone* trilogy, and in the second or third book (I can't remember which), there's a moment where Alina mentions wanting all Grisha to eat together, instead of each order dining separately. It got me thinking: why did Aleksander, the General, enforce those ‘separations’?

Personally that was another "I made the villain dumb so I could make the hero look like a genius" moment from Bardugo. It happens a lot in media actually.

The Darkling is no fool. He wants his Grisha to be united so separating the orders in the tables alienates them further. Unless it signified discipline and the ranks that you find in an army which isn't illogical by itself.

Sure, the training is different for every order and the amplifiers that he gives signify how well trained and powerful is a Grisha and not that much if he's a favorite person for the Darkling (imo).

But since Leigh wanted Alina to be a revolutionary hero who thought things that a 400+ person didn't, we got this.

@stromuprisahat also gave some really good insight into this here and here.

[kazscrows]

✨ Which grisha order would you belong to?

I’ve always wanted to be a heartrender so I’d be Corporalki, the order of the living and the dead!

They’re just so cool and super dangerous, but I also like the fact that they can rend and… mend? I’m sorry for the cheesy rhyme but it’s true! They can burst your heart, but they can also help calm nerves, help someone relax. I’ve always liked that.

[crowshoots]

theres a lot to criticize about sab season 2 bc. lol. but also the absolute funniest is the posts that absolutely dont understand majority of the material

[ircnwrought]

I’m not really here because i have to boop off to bed for work tomorrow but concept idea: my witches are grisha in the grishaverse

[stormlit]

like for a starter from sabria, merryn, or inés! no need to specify.

[witchcraftandgeekness]

Things we (me) are forgetting about Six of crows, not in order:

• There were rumours that Wylan was caught in an affair with his tutor

• Inej killed rinca moten (the desert lizard) that Matthias claimed he never seen being defeated before. She did it in few seconds too

• Jesper and Nina had chloropellets that they used to put other prisoners to sleep stitched under their skin. And had to cut them out to use them

• Matthias had a buzzcut for whole two books and half; also, half of SoC he had brown hair and brown eyes tailored

• Kaz had lockpicks and bloody explosives swallowed for the entirety of heist, and had to regurgitate them every other hour

• When Nina was young, she wanted to go to Fjerda as an avenging warrior or a spy (foreshadowing, I guess)

• Inej used Kaz's gloves to climb in the incenerator scene

• After learning Inej's real name, Kaz asked if that's what she preferred to be called

•Kaz's pov has shown that he probably had fracture or other injury from when he jumped while carrying Inej in his arms, and it was never mentioned him getting any medical attention. My boy been running this heist like this, AND without his cane for hours

• They blew up the nation's holy magical tree (somehow I keep forgetting this part)

• Matthias gave Kaz an agressive CPR until Nina took over. So his heart probably stopped during heist? (Somebody just give him a vacation or something)

•Nina flirts/ed with Kaz (as he had mentioned himself, she just loves flirting with everybody and everything)

•Inej seems to be the ONLY one in the Dregs without their tattoo

•Matthias labeled Inej as a demon in his head as well, not only Kaz

•Matthias' middle name is Benedik. I think only his and Jesper's second names were revealed (very likely that they are the only ones who have them)

•Kaz gave Matthias the "you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me" talk (like, literally)

•“You can’t spend his money if you’re dead.”

“I’ll acquire expensive habits in the afterlife.”

•Inej thought that Kaz "at least owes me his best imitation of a human being".

•Wylan was standing up to Kaz several times, even at times when others wouldn't (like right after the Oomen incident)

•Matthias has the coolest nicknames for everybody in general

•Kaz kinda thinks more of Inej than others do? Has more faith in her and how strong she is, if you will

•Kaz went back for the Black Tips after Inej was injured and "there was enough blood to paint a barn red" (reminder that he still has a fracture after running with her in his hands and jumping off great heightswhile carrying her)

•Tolya was mentioned in SoC ("There’s a Heartrender at the Little Palace who can recite epic poetry for hours. Then you’d wish you had died.”)

•Matthias thanked Inej personally for being the reason they made it out of the harbor alive (that's right, everybody must respect Inej)

•Kaz wants reassurance that Inej believes in him once in a while

•Everybody feels kinda good about sharing secrets with Kaz cuz he's Dirtyhands and he wouldn't judge anything

•Kaz and Inej have a series of silent signals?

•Kaz said "You don't want a look at what's inside my head, Nina dear" while wearing fucking dumb goggles

•Inej is the only sacred thing in Kaz's life, and she made him feel like a boy still believing in existence of magic

[theowritesstuff]

Everything

Kaz Brekker x gn!healer!reader

Requests: “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” & “You are everything. Everything.” Although I did change it to “You are everything to me. Everything.”

Warnings: bruises, knives, guns, stabbing, blood, murder (feral Kaz)

A/N: Yeah, this is pretty dark guys. If you’ve watched the show/read the books you’ll be fine, but the crows plotlines are usually dark. I actually really like this one though! Italics are Kaz’s thoughts.

Request a prompt with one of my characters!

Kaz Brekker was methodical. He planned everything he could down to the very minute. It was how he was able to become the leader of the Dregs, the Bastard of the Barrel. No one dared cross Kaz, in fear of losing their life.

His crew were nearly as untouchable as he was. Jesper, the sharpshooter. Inej, the wraith. Wylan, the demolitions expert. Nina, the heartrender. And Matthias, the druskelle. They, along with their leader, made up one of the most prominent gangs in Ketterdam.

Then there was you. You were the crow that Kaz kept tucked away from the rest of Ketterdam.

Nina had brought you to Kaz after finding you help a small child with a nasty scrape on his knee. She watched as you guided your hand over the scrape, and the cuts disappeared. She hadn’t seen another Corporalnik in Ketterdam before, and knew that having a healer would help immensely when it came to heists.

Kaz was reluctant to take you in, only agreeing once he’d seen you heal a black eye Jesper had been sporting for a few days. He gave you a room at the Slat, gave you a few kruge, and introduced you to the other crows.

They were all easy to get along with. Nina helped you ease into this new life, often times joining you for meals, or taking walks through the markets with you. You had an obvious initial distaste for Mathias, often times choosing to stay away from the druskelle, but seeing him with Nina quickly put you at ease. Inej was incredibly kind to you, and graciously thanked you whenever you healed her. Wylan and Jesper were easy to get along with, often times too absorbed in each other to be aware of other things going on around them.

Then there was Kaz. It was more difficult to have a working relationship with Kaz, anyone could tell you he usually kept to himself unless he was giving orders or collecting kruge. You tried not to take his indifference to you personally.

You do remember the day things changed between you and Kaz though. The group had all come back from a heist exhausted, some injured, some just tired, but you could see Kaz out of the corner of your eye walking to his room quicker than he usually does. You followed him upstairs, and softly knocked on the door.

“Come in.” He grunted.

You’d never been in Kaz’s room before, you don’t think anyone other than Kaz actually has. It’s dark, and honestly exactly what you’d expected. A bed in the corner, a desk against the wall cluttered with paper, and a wardrobe that he was currently riffing through.

“Is there a reason you’ve decided to grace me with your presence Y/n?” He asks, his tone sharp.

“How did you know it was me?” You shuffle forward, and close his door behind you.

“Everyone else knows not to bother me after a job.” He turned his head towards you slightly, allowing you to catch a glimpse of red on his cheek.

“You’re hurt.” You take a step towards him. He steps back from you instantaneously.

“I’m fine.” He turns back to his wardrobe.

“Saints, why must you be so stubborn?” You sigh. He doesn’t answer you. “I thought you hired me to heal you, so let me do my job.”

It’s his turn to sigh this time. It would be nice to stop the stinging sensation on his face. He glances at you, then gestures you towards him. “Fine.” He sits down in the chair at his desk, and watches you slowly step towards him.

You slowly move towards him, aware of the way his shoulder tense with every step you take. You don’t know exactly what’s happened to him, but you can easily tell he’s got some sort of touch aversion after watching him for a while. The black gloves that never come off his hands are used as another layer to keep others away.

Once you’re standing in front of him you take a look at the thin cut across his cheek. “I didn’t know the bastard of the barrel could bleed.” You murmur.

You don’t fail to miss the slight upward quirk of his lips at your comment. He holds his breath as your fingertips hover over him. He expected to feel the waters rise up in his chest, drowning him, instead he’s surprised to feel warmth from your hand. You’re careful not to actually touch him, pulling away once he’s been healed.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask, stepping away from him.

That was the moment you became more than just the Dregs’ healer. Whenever you went out anywhere Kaz would send Inej with you for protection. He knew how valuable a grisha was in Ketterdam, and he was not going to let someone else take you away. He called you into his office in the Crow Club or his room in the Slat more often. Sometimes he’d need you to heal a paper cut, other times he’d just want your company while he planned out heists. On nights where he came back banged up more than usual he’d bare more skin to you, allowing you to heal him and provide him the comfort a part of him so desperately needed.

He’d never let it be known he was growing some kind of attachment to you. You were a weakness to him, and Kaz Brekker didn’t have any weaknesses.

It didn’t take long for the other crows to figure out something was different between the two of you. Kaz was a cold, corrupt gang leader, but they could see a shift in him when you were near.

He’d give you his coat if you felt cold on the walk from the club back to the Slat. He kept your favorite drink in stock at the Crow Club. He’d look to you for your opinion on plans for heists. He whispered comments to you while he thought the others weren’t paying attention, a smug grin growing on his face as you laughed at what he’d said. Soft isn’t the right word for what Kaz had become when you were near. He was gentle with you.

Jesper caught you sneaking out of Kaz’s room early one morning still in the clothes you’d worn the previous day. He smirked at Kaz as he ate his breakfast for the day.

“Have a pleasant night boss?” He asked over his cup of coffee.

Kaz raises a brow at him, silently asking what he meant.

Jesper simply looks over at you, who is currently in conversation with Nina and Mathias on the other side of the room. His eyes travel back to Kaz, gleaming with mischief.

Kaz looks like he’s about to hit Jesper over the head with the crow’s head of his cane. He gets a stern talking to in Kaz’s office later that day, and is informed that if anyone finds out about his meetings with you, his precious revolvers might end up on someone’s table in the market.

No one mentions any changes they’ve seen in Kaz after that. Everything goes smoothly from then on, until one particular heist.

It was a lot like any other heist, sneak into a place, steal something that costs an exorbitant amount of money, then sell it for twice the price. The problem was Kaz needed someone to sneak into a crowded party, and at that point most of the barrel could pick out any of the crows in a crowd. They needed someone that could be inconspicuous.

It was the perfect job for you. You’d always wanted to go on the crazy adventures your friend went on so often, and this was finally something you could swing.

When you volunteered to step in, Kaz immediately refused. There was a reason he kept you locked away in the Slat during jobs.

No amount of kruge is worth putting your life on the line.

He gives excuse after excuse as to why you can’t be used. You haven’t done this before. You don’t know your way around the building. They need their healer ready to treat them afterwards.

I can’t bear the thought of losing you.

“You don’t even know how to use a weapon.” Kaz sighed, barely looking up at you from the blueprints on his desk.

“Inej can teach me, right?” You turn to the wraith with pleading eyes.

Inej stutters as she looks between you, and the icy stare coming from Kaz.

“Besides, you said that you wanted me to learn how to fight.”

No, I said you should learn to use a weapon. I figured Jesper would let you shoot a few bottles behind the Slat.

“We need them boss. Y/n is our best bet.” Jesper shrugs as he becomes the receiving end of Kaz’s glare.

Kaz looks back down at his blueprints. He knows it’s going to be a busy event, and the others will be spotted on sight. He briefly wonders if he can hire someone else to do the job, but then he looks back up at you. He trusts you, more than he’s trusted anyone in a long time. He knows this is something you’re perfectly capable of, but is it something he’s willing to risk?

“Fine.” He grunts. “But Jesper and Inej will teach you to use their weapons first.”

Your hearts swells up with pride. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thrown yourself over his desk to hug him. “Thank you Kaz. I promise you won’t regret this.”

If only you knew how wrong you had been.

You did train with Inej and Jesper prior to the heist. You even practiced fighting with Mathias a little bit, who was significantly holding back his punches in fear of actually hurting you.

Kaz had made sure to drill his instructions into everyone’s heads, until they could repeat their schedules without thinking about it. Everything had gone to according to plan on the night of, until things took a drastic turn.

He kept an eye on you for as long as he could, until he was needed somewhere else, leaving you in the crowd of the large hall completely isolated from the rest of the group.

You were doing well on your own, slowly becoming more confident as you strolled around and made conversation. You managed to distract all of the merchants with conversation long enough for the crew to get what they needed. It was nearing the time Kaz told you to meet him outside when you were spotted by someone. You vaguely recognized the face, it was a man you’d seen in the Crow Club a few times.

He must’ve known about your affiliation with the crows, because next thing you know you’re being escorted the opposite direction you need to go. You try to stay calm, and remember what Jesper and Inej taught you about fighting, but you know with them holding onto your arms it’ll be near impossible to reach for the knife you have hidden away.

You end up in a courtyard behind the building when they start to question you. Simple things like “why are you here?” and “where are your friends?”. They quickly become aggravated with your innocent act, and become more incessant.

All it took was for one of the men holding you to loosen his grip for you to swing your arm away, and hit him on the side of his face with your elbow. Chaos ensued immediately. You were able to grab your knife, and used it as best you could against the three men fighting you. You had taken a few hits, but were able to stand your ground fairly well, until you felt a sharp pain in your side.

You froze, partially from shock, but mostly from the searing pain you felt. You looked down to see a dagger lodged in your side, being held onto by one of the men. He had a wicked grin on his face as he twisted the knife inside of you. You wailed out as he pulled the knife from your body, and watched as you collapsed to the ground.

“Brekker won’t be able to save you from that, little bird.” He snikered, then ran back inside with the others.

You could feel the blood pooling at your side. You tried to press a hand to the now sticky fabric of your shirt, and put pressure on the wound. You were far too hurt to be able to concentrate your powers to one spot. Your vision started to get spotty when you heard voices above you. A girl’s voice, clearly in distress, and a boy’s voice, sharp and stern.

More hands pressed to your side, then something was wrapped tightly around your waist.

You couldn’t hear what they were actually saying before you felt yourself being picked up, and held in someone’s arms. You looked up to see the figure that was holding you. A bigger build, wide shoulders, blonde hair? Mathias. Had you been conscious enough to speak you would’ve made a joke. Something about a druskelle carrying a grisha to safety. He’d laugh, but retort, telling you about how many times he’s had to save Nina.

You let yourself fall into the darkness after a while, your head lolling against Mathias’ chest. It’s okay, you thought, you knew you weren’t going to make it as soon as he pulled that knife out of you. You just wish you were able to see your friends one last time, to see Kaz one last time.

Kaz could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He tried to keep a calm composure, but anyone of the crows could see the anxiety building up in him. He was barking orders as soon as he saw you laying on the ground, a puddle of your own blood surrounding you. The waves start to build in his chest. He wants to reach out and touch you, to give you any semblance of comfort, because you’re not dead, there’s no way he’s letting you die. He’ll destroy all of Kerch before he lets that happen.

He notices when your head lolls. “Quickly.” He urges the group, speeding his own pace back to the Slat.

Once everyones regrouped they all gather in your room, where Mathias has lain you down on your bed.

Kaz tosses a pouch of coins to Jesper. “Go get some medicine. I don’t care how much it costs. Get the best you can find.”

Inej kneels down next to you, whispering prayers to her saints. Mathias leaves to gather supplies to help you. Nina keeps your heartbeat steady, her hands hovering above your chest.

The waters have reached his lungs now, pulling him down deeper into the ocean. Your blood coats the scarf Inej tied around you earlier, staining the blue material a dark, deep red.

“Saints! Kaz, your heartbeat is obscenely loud! Could you please go anywhere else?” Nina snaps at him.

Kaz doesn’t move for a moment, then quickly leaves your room to go to his own. He attempts to slow his breathing, to calm himself down, but anytime he closes his eyes he sees you again. You and Jordie.

It’s days before he talks to anyone. He only ever leaves his room to step into yours. Nina occupies a chair near your bed, dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Still alive.” Is all she says to him. He nods, then retreats back to his room.

He scours any and all information he has about the party, until he finds what might give him some relief. He leaves the Slat early one morning, and doesn’t return until late that evening. The gold crow’s head of his cane is now a bright crimson color. Blood is splattered on his neck, and one can assume his clothes as well, though the black hides it well from anyone giving him a second glance.

Jesper is surprised to see Kaz in such a state, knowing that he liked to keep up appearances.

“Hey boss, you’ve got a little…” he trails off, gesturing to his neck.

“It’s not mine.” He rushes passed Jesper, back to his room to start scrubbing the blood away.

You wake up about a week after the heist. Your throat is dry, and you feel incredibly hungry. Your limbs feel weak when move to sit up.

Nina sits next to you on a chair. She’s slouched over, soft snores falling from her lips. You softly nudge her, and let out a hoarse “Nina.”

She grumbles to herself as she wakes up. “Kaz, they’re fine.” She slowly opens her eyes to see you staring back at her, and she gasps. “Saints! You’re awake!”

You point to the cup that sits next to her, and gulp down the water when she hands it to you.

She stands up and looks towards the door to your room. “I’m going to go get Kaz.”

You grab her wrist before she can leave you. “Please don’t. I don’t think I can deal with incessant “I told you so”s right now.”

Nina scoffs. “Oh please, he’s been worried sick about you. I had to kick him out of here because his heartbeat was distracting me from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He even paid for some pretty pricey medicine for you. Speaking of which, here, take these.” She holds out a few pills. “Now, I’m going to go get Kaz, and maybe after this near-death experience you two will finally just tell each other that you love one another.”

“What? I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head.

“It’s okay, he’s not very good at hiding it either.” She smirks at you before she leaves.

She’s only gone a few minutes before your door swings open with Kaz in your doorway.

“You’re awake.” He says.

You shift so that you’re sitting up on your bed. Kaz closes your door behind him, then sits down in the chair Nina had been using, his eyes trained on the floor ahead.

“I’m sorry about the heist Kaz. But I promise I didn’t tell them anything-”

“I know.”

You furrow your brows. “You know?”

He looks up at you. When he does this, you realize just how close you are to him. You can see every detail in his face. The way his blue eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight of your room. You could brush your leg against his if you shifted. You start to move away from him, afraid of touching him, but stop when what sounds like a plea escapes him.

“Stay.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding, and relax beside him.

“Nina said you were worried about me.” You say softly.

He laughs a little, shaking his head. It’s a sight he’s reserved for just you. “Of course she did.”

“Were you?”

He looks into your eyes as if he’s searching for something. “I was.” He takes a breath, then turns his body so he’s facing you. “You scared me Y/n. I thought you had died, or were close to it. And I…” His admission is quiet. “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” He hangs his head in shame. The bastard of the barrel can’t admit how he feels.

“I understand.” You nod. “I feel so much love for you Kaz, you consume my every thought. You don’t need to say anything. I understand.”

He looks up at you, surprised. Surprised that someone as pure as you, someone who was literally made to heal, could ever love someone who’s caused so much pain as he has. He slowly removes his right glove, and drops the leather to the ground. He lifts his hand to your face, hovering near your cheek.

“You don’t have to.” You whisper, body frozen.

“I want to.” He takes a deep breath in an attempt to push the waves down, and slowly caresses your cheek. His throat tightens up, and for a moment it feels like he’s drowning again. But he focuses on your warmth, and his breathing slows down again. “You are everything to me. Everything.”

-

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

Okay so hear me out... [Massive spoilers and speculation on Wicked films ahead]

It's apparent that Wicked Part 2 is going to have new, expanded, and altered scenes — but by far the most tantalizing is implied by the first scene of the first film.

We see a cloaked figure on horseback fleeing from Kiamo Ko after the Melting, and then we see Dorothy, Tin Man, Cowardly Lion, and the Scarecrow on the Yellow Brick Road back to the Emerald City. This is in keeping with the 1939 Wizard of Oz, which implies something hugely important about the plot of Wicked Part 2: the musical's original ending has been changed.

In the original stage version, Fiyero comes back to Kiamo Ko after getting his diploma brain from the Wizard and all that, and Elphaba comes out from her little trapdoor, and then they leave Oz together without telling anyone. It's unclear (on purpose, obviously), but it seems very apparent that the cloaked rider we see at the start of the 2024 film is Elphaba. This leaves us with a few possibilities for how the plot will unfold in Part 2.

1.) Elphaba simply leaves alone, telling nobody — not even Fiyero — that she's alive. I am okay with this, since honestly the way that the finale of the musical was written has always felt kinda clunky and borderline plot-holey to me.

2.) They still end up having the original ending happen, just switched around the order of some of the events. Maybe Elphaba escapes first but then finds Fiyero alone elsewhere somehow, and in the end still leaves Oz with him. I'd accept it — it is probably the most likely version they might go with — but with all the changes being made, I would be a little disappointed if it ends up this way ngl, when they have the chance to make a new ending that far surpasses the original.

3.) Elphaba leaves alone BUT makes Glinda and/or Fiyero aware of her survival somehow. This is actually a surprisingly plausible option I think, since Elphaba in the original show immediately wanted to tell Glinda she was alive (with Fiyero talking her out of it — which may not be a thing that happens anymore); and just IMAGINE how poignant heartrending it would be if Glinda were to find the old Emerald City guide with the note she wrote her in it, but with "I hope you get what your heart desires" in it in Elphie's handwriting, or something like that. Maybe even with Glinda singing her final "Good News!" after seeing it — leaving the door open that Glinda might have a chance to find her Elphie someday. Or hell, if they wanted to they could use the closing lines of the book in some form: the classic "did she ever come out?" and "not yet" (which of course itself has some delightfully sapphic undertones)

4.) Mostly wishful thinking on the part of my very very sapphic ass, but... can you fucking IMAGINE if they dared to rewrite an ending where Elphaba finds Glinda and asks her one more time "come with me..."?? And then they LEAVE OZ TOGETHER??? Not as plausible an answer as the others, I know — but can't a girl dream? I mean they set it up so well, if nothing else it's THERE for them to use if they decided to have the courage. In the first movie Elphaba says "come with me" twice to Glinda: first when she asks Glinda to come with her to the Emerald City (her 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽’𝓼 𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮), and lastly when she asks Glinda to come with her on her broomstick and escape (which of course Glinda refuses). If they decided to give Glinda a second chance to say yes and go with her, and this time she takes it... I mean, it would just be a really solid payoff to the material already established and obviously would also short-circuit all our gay little hearts. And the fact it's even conceivable they COULD do that is really exciting in and of itself. It isn't 2003 anymore, the stars are very on board for queerness — the only thing really reining in my hopes is the fact a major Hollywood family film blockbuster (even in 2024, sadly) usually can't bite the bullet and go full gay: BUT, who said it would have to be explicitly gay if Elphaba and Glinda leave together? Who's to say we couldn't get them And They Were Very Good Friends-ing away into the sunset together? No Homo as the plausible deniability needed to pull off the best sapphic victory in movie history? Oops, there go my hopes again, trying to defy gravity, lol

[call-sign-shark]

Pairing: The Darkling x Heartrender!You || The Darkling x HeartrenderOC!Reader

Summary: After weeks of treating you coldly, you learn that Aleksander decided to bring you to the King's Court without your consent. Frustrated, you decide to face him and poke at his insecurities... Little you know it only makes him fall harder for you.

Words: 5k.

TW: unhealthy relationship, controlling behavior, strong pinning, argument, vague sexual innuendo, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff that will give you cavities.

Notes: A quieter chapter 'cause you're not ready for the epicness of the next one! Enjoy! Please comment or reblog if you want more.

Part VII - Dangerous

Previous || Masterlist || Next

The worn-out parchment trembled in your hand, the wax seal already broken. For a moment you stood still with your big crystal eyes riveted on the paper, hoping you misread what had been carefully hand-written on the letter. You read its content for the third time, feeling your heart pounding harder with every word: By order of His Majesty, King Pyotr, you are summoned to appear at the Grand Court.

The weeks that separated your nightly encounter with General Kirigan in the dimly lit map room from this cold afternoon had blurred into a strange rhythm. While still charged, they seemed to flow slower than ever. Though both you and Aleksander had returned to your respective roles without any trouble besides fleeting glances, the air between you buzzed with the weight of what was almost done in that room. An aborted kiss. Kirigan could have kissed you, your plump lips on the verge of meeting his in a scorching embrace, hadn’t he suddenly changed his mind and dismissed your presence with the coldest demeanor possible. 

Even though you were haunted by this experience, your mind momentarily obliterated it at the sight of the parchment’s words, stark and unforgiving. Their implications sent a chill down your spine: why did the King himself want to see you? 

Rushing through the door of your bedroom, you hurried to find Genya. If there was one person who had answers regarding everything, it was certainly her. Not only answers but also a soothing, angelic calm that might ground you a little. You had thought to seek Fedyor for a brief instant, a close friend of yours, but considering how extra he would be about it you knew he would panic even more than you and end up stressing you further.

Fortunately enough, you didn’t have to search too long. You found Genya in her usual spot, seated by the tall window in a stream of golden sunlight. Her sumptuous and wavy red hair, arranged in an elegant hairstyle, gleamed like a wild fire as she worked deftly with needle and thread on an elegant white kefta adorned with gold cuff. The garment was for a servant of the Grand Palace, just like hers when she worked as the Queen’s personal Tailor. The sight of her, serene and focused on her task, tamed your fury a little.

“Genya,” You blurted, clutching the letter as if it might burn you,” This – what does this mean? Why am I being summoned to the King’s Court?” In the sake of having a proper answer to your questions, you were trying hard to control your natural bluntness and the ice of your tone but it wasn’t really conclusive.

Genya glanced up, not bringing up the fact you didn’t greet her nor your lack of proper etiquette when addressing someone with a higher rank. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed your disheveled state, and how dilated your dark pupils were, stretching like black holes surrounded by a thin ring of shiny frost. Setting her embroidery down, she reached out to take the letter without a word and proceeded to read it. 

“This is…” She began carefully, handing it back. You grabbed the letter and tossed it on the wooden furniture next to you, “It’s an invitation. Or rather, a summons.”

“Oh, thank you for this interesting output. I wouldn’t have figured it out myself.” You replied in a rasping tone, dripping with sarcasm. Genya raised an eyebrow, catching sight of how the corner of your enticing lips twitched in frustration, “What for? I didn’t ask to go to the Court. What could they possibly want with me?”

Her gaze softened a little, for she could relate how stressful she was herself when General Kirigan had brought her to the Grand Palace the very first time, though she didn’t know what she had to fear was not the Court, but being alone at night with the King. She shook her head slightly at the unpleasant memory, a flicker of unease in her eyes, “I don’t know the exact details,” she said gently.

“But you know the broad picture.” You retorted with a controlled but sharp smile that betrayed the anger that was building up within.

“The General requested an audience with the King on your behalf”, she corrected.

You froze, “Aleksander did this?”

“Aleksander?”

You stopped an instant, realizing what you have called him. Aleksander… The name melted on your tongue like cotton candy, the sweetness of it filling your mouth with saccharine. During this fleeting time frame, Genya had noticed the subtle change in your expression but said nothing. She hesitated, then came back to the initial topic of your conversation.

“He’s been… advocating for your freedom,” she explained but her sentence still sounded bitter despite her best efforts. How ironic it was that the General was fighting for your freedom while all he did was enslave her by turning her into a stupid gift for the Queen. 

The words hit you like a blow before you could grasp the irony of her statement. 

Aleksander had said little to you since your conversation in the map room, two weeks prior, even though his presence in your life had remained constant – watching, guiding, intoxicating… Always close but so distant at once. You could still feel his hot breath mingling with yours and this thumb caressing the apple of your cheek with utter tenderness each time you’d close your eyes.

“Why?” You asked, your voice turning into a mere whisper – the revelation had really caught you off guard. Only after a few long seconds did you connect the dots: your indenture. The last words exchanged with him had been about your indenture, to which he had replied that he would handle it.  That was why he had asked the King on your behalf.

Now that the reason for his acts was crystal clear, a second question popped into your mind, “Why would he risk involving the King for me?”

Genya hesitated again, her tongue quickly moistening her lips before she pressed them into a thin line, debating how much to say and how much to keep for herself. The silence that stretched between you felt like a dull eternity, “Heaven, you must understand… The General sees something in you. He values you more than you can think, and he doesn’t let go of what he values.” She said with a quiet but warm empathy though she fidgeted nervously with one of her red locks of hair.

“That’s not comforting,” You suddenly lamented, your natural coldness moving on to an irresistible childish pout, “That’s not comforting at all!” Unable to stay still any longer, you paced in the room as your mind raced, trying to come up with a plan to avoid meeting the King. 

Jumping out the window had never been so tempting.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” Genya stated as softly as before, though she was clearly amused by the sight of you acting more… human. More made in flesh and bones rather than carved out of the chillest ice. Was it Aleksander’s mention that had softened you a bit, she wondered.

“Maybe if I bash my head against the wall and knock myself out…” 

Genya reached for your hand, stopping you mid-step and cutting off your mumbling, “Hey, listen to me. Whatever happens at Court, you’ll have the General by your side. He won’t let harm come to you.” Because he doesn’t see you as a disposable thing for some obscure reason, she almost added but kept herself from doing so, “I guess he wants to show the King how valuable you are”.

You pulled your freezing little hand back, your chest tightening, “But he’s the one putting me in this unpleasant situation. He’s the one pressuring me!” 

The one intoxicating me, haunting my every thought, lightening up my every fiber.

“What if I do something wrong? What if I fail to do what they ask me to do? What if–” 

“You won’t fail,” Genya interrupted firmly, “I’ve seen what you can do, Hev. We all have. You’re far stronger than you think. In fact, you’re terrifyingly strong.” 

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to breathe properly. Yet, her encouragement had some effects upon you, “And if the King decides I’m not worth the trouble? What then?”  Would he kick you back to the Menagerie, where Tante Heleen’s punishment would outperform everything she has done to you already?

A long exhale escaped Genya’s nostrils before the red-haired Grisha offered a faint, reassuring smile, “Whatever it is, the General will be with you. He won’t let anything, any-bloody-thing happen to you. Trust him.”  As she said this, Genya’s eyes glowed with utter sincerity. While she didn’t know the full extent of Kirigan’s determination or schemes, she had seen enough to understand his fierce protectiveness over you. Behind closed doors, Aleksander had left no room for doubt: anyone who dared to harm or endanger his little Heartrender would face his merciless wrath. Zoya’s case had been merely a sample of what he was capable of doing for you. This was an unspoken truth that even Ivan didn’t question. And so, when she spoke to you, it wasn’t words just said in reassurance – it was the undeniable certainty of a promise Aleksander had silently vowed. And not so silently conveyed to the rest of the second Army.

Trust him. It echoed in your mind, accompanied by a recollection of all the moments the Black General had, indeed, been worthy of your thrust by saving you and protecting your honor. But how mad you were about that summon! 

“Maybe I can create a special outfit for you? It won’t change your situation but at least you’ll make an impression.” She suggested. As everyone else here, Genya had noticed that you refused to wear the Heartrenders’ red kefta, and she doubted you’d agree to do so in preparation for your meeting with the King. Her surprising yet kind suggestion put a faint but genuine smile on your rosy lips.

“You would do that?”

“Of course, but can I ask you a favor in exchange?” 

“Yes?” You raised an eyebrow.

Genya’s gaze turned surprisingly sharp. The amber of her eyes gleamed with a spark of mischief, “Please, do make an impression .” The way she spoke, slow and low, made you frown. All your senses tingled as they sensed the venom of hatred seeping from every syllable, “When you stand before them, let them see what they should fear — what they cannot control.”

The morning came too quickly for once, the faint and pale light of dawn creeping into the wide horizon as you stood outside the Little Palace, your packed bag slung over one shoulder. Before exiting the building, you had made a detour to collect the outfit Genya created for you. Carefully folded and hidden in silk, you didn’t get to look at it and rather shoved it quickly in your bag. 

A frozen gust of wind blew to your face, biting at your cheeks as the crisp smell of winter filled your senses. Your seraphic face, ivory as the shy morning sun, was taunted with displeasure, echoing the wild spirit that simmered beneath your icy exterior. Even though you had remained quite passive since your arrival here — well, relatively passive considering you almost killed two people and brought a bit of chaos in the Little Palace’s organized routine as well as in the General’s heart — your fierceness had remained. It had always been there, seething, clawing at your ribcage, and, today, it showed. 

You watched, head slightly tilted, as other Grisha began to gather, their joyful chattering carried with the wind while the carriages were prepared. Clutching the leather strap of your bag, you bit your lower lip and weighed whether or not you should join them. Maybe it would do some good to mingle with them? Maybe you could try to befriend them, just to show that you weren’t some kind of empty killing machine – a reputation you really wanted to avoid –? 

You had barely made the first step toward the bunch of young Grisha, resolved to join them when General Kirigan erupted from the shadows nearby. His long black kefta floated behind him at the breeze’s discretion with each of his steps. He contrasted with the bright morning, but even the light couldn’t diminish his massive aura. As he walked to you, it felt like night followed him, ready to devour the sun with a single snap of his fingers. 

He stopped a few paces away from you, his expression unfathomable as always. He, who hadn’t spoken a single word to you in two weeks, finally deigned to do so.

“Heaven,” he said softly, a tilt of his head beckoning you to follow him. 

You didn’t move, but your frown deepened, “I assume I’m not traveling with them.” You stated coldly, nodding toward the group of Grisha for emphasis. To be honest, you didn’t mean to welcome him with such freezing greetings but the unexpected — and unsought — trip to the King’s palace had soured your mood.  This, and the silent treatment of these past two weeks. So when he came to seclude you from the rest of the herd, you felt a wave of injustice washing over you.

“You’re not,” The tall darkness replied simply with a firm tone. All the tenderness and affection he had displayed in the map room seemed to be gone for good, “You’ll ride with me.”

A muscle in your jaw tightened as his command collided against your free spirit: if there was something you had learned to despise following your escape from the Menagerie it was decisions made for you without so much as a word of consultation. Without the slightest interest nor care for your opinion. The need to retort something hovered on the top of your tongue, ready to slice, but you swallowed it down. Instead, you managed a curt nod, your defiance still forming a lump in your throat. Then, you followed him to the black carriage waiting nearby.

The interior of it was lavish, lined with dark velvet and polished wood. A little “oh” fell from your lips when you discovered how luxurious it was but you didn’t dawdle and climbed inside without wasting time. As you did, you shifted to take the seat opposite to Aleksander but his large hand gently pressed on the small of your back to guide you next to him. The way he did it was light, almost imperceptible, but it carried his silent command and steered you with a subtlety that betrayed his need to control. Having no other choice — and being weak whenever he touched you—, you obliged. 

Once sat, you crossed your arms over your small breasts.

For the first hour of the journey, you stayed silent, your head resting against the window while Aleksander read a pile of boring-looking papers. Because of how stubborn you were, you didn’t pay attention to him for that whole hour,  each passing mile deepening the chasm. The chill that emanated from you was almost tangible.

“You’re angry.” Kirigan remarked at last, his sultry voice breaking the quiet like a stone thrown at a window. His void-like irises were still focused on the pages he was holding in his gloved hands when he talked to you.

Your eyes snapped to his attractive face, “No.” 

“Well, if not, why does it feel like you are sulking?” His mouth twisted in a half smile before it vanished, vaguely amused by the sudden display of emotions that contrasted with your usual iciness. His soft lilt carried a subtle condescension though, which had become a second nature by dint of always having centuries of difference with the other people around him.

Your heart drummed as his words echoed in the confined space of the carriage. The term “sulking” struck a nerve for it was trivializing your feelings and reducing your genuine hurt to a child’s petty tantrum. But a tantrum it wasn’t — it was asking for basic consideration. All your life your voice was dismissed, your choice stripped away, leaving you feeling like an object devoid of agency. Devoid of soul. That summons to the King’s Court, decided without your consent nor your awareness, only mirrored those past indignities.

”You arranged all of this without even asking me,” Your voice sounded like the whistling of an axe slicing through the air, “What if I didn’t want to go?”

Aleksander finally dropped his paperwork next to him and looked at you, one eyebrow lifted. His amusement faltered when he realized that you were genuinely hurt — something he hadn’t even considered. “Would you have refused?”

“That’s not the point,” You dared shoot back, “You know, I’m not a weapon or piece on your board.” You let out. Genya might have explained that the reason behind it was in your best interest but the way it had been done clearly left a bitter taste in your mouth, leading you to wonder if Aleksander’s attention wasn’t purely selfish and calculated. Moreover, his sudden distant demeanor didn’t help.

His gaze suddenly darkened at your accusations, shadows shaped like a cloud of black smoke rising frighteningly in the tight, suffocating space of the carriage. It was what you were supposed to be, wasn’t it? A carefully placed pawn in his long, strategic game. But, admittedly, your words stung in a way he didn’t anticipate. A painful pang in his long-thought-dead heart he couldn’t explain.

“You misunderstand my intentions,” He explained softly, with a steady tone though it held something sharp, “This is about your freedom, Heaven. Your future. The King is the only one who can officially cancel your indenture and make you a free citizen of Ravka, protected by its law and men. Would you rather stay shackled to a past that doesn’t deserve you?”

You replied with a short, humorless snort, “You’re fighting for my freedom but don't give me the freedom to know about it. Nor to voice my opinion…” Sighing, your shoulders slumped down, “With all due respect General, from where I’m sitting, it looks like a puppet show. You pulling my strings and me dancing for the King’s Court.” 

Aleksander’s jaw kept tightening but he didn’t interrupt.  Then, he shifted in his seat to turn to you, his crushing aura causing your heart to miss a beat, but you didn’t waver, “And what would you have me do? Leave you vulnerable and bound to a slave's contract?” Kirigan’s pitch-black eyes narrowed as they dived into yours with such intensity that you briefly thought about lowering your gaze — but it was out of question, “You’re implying that I wish to control you, but perhaps you mistake protection for control.” He breathed, always deathly calm.

“So you’re trying to protect me?” You raised a brow, doubting.

“Exactly.” Aleksander’s hands flexed against his thighs. He took a measured, controlled breath, “And you don’t know what I’ve sacrificed for what I wished to protect. What I’m willing to sacrifice for you.”

You purse your lips because you weren’t convinced. Something still felt… wrong. Protection might have justified the King’s summon, but not his behavior toward you since that near-kiss in the map room.

“So why have you been so distant lately?” You asked abruptly.

His expression flickered to an unguarded, fleeting surprise, “Distant?” He repeated though it wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” Your voice was steadier now despite the thunder in your heart, “You make these decisions, talk about sacrifices and protection, but you’ve been pulling away. Ever since…” The words caught in your throat for the steamy memory of his lips almost brushing yours seared through your mind, exhilarating. The unspoken end of your sentence lingered.

He didn’t answer immediately, rather looking away – his charming profile sharp in the light that passed through the window, “You wouldn’t understand”.

“Try me,” You challenged, leaning forward slightly, “ I don’t think you behave like this to protect me– you pull away to protect yourself, aren’t you?”

His head snapped back to you, and for a brief instant you thought you’d gone too far when his onyx irises darkened, the expression veiling his seductive face becoming almost threatening. But there was no malice in his gaze – only something raw. Something that made you understand that you were spot on.

“You think I’m… afraid?” He said with a raspy voice.

“I do,” You straight off replied, refusing to back down even though Fedyor would have probably slapped your face and screamed with a high-pitched ‘Have you gone crazy?!’ for talking to the General with such insolence, “I think you’re afraid of letting someone get close. Someone sees past the shadows. Maybe afraid of what they might see.” 

Another silence. Aleksander’s eyes burned into yours, unflinching, but the vulnerability beneath it was impossible to ignore. How could you, a little Heartrender from nowhere, understand him so well? How could you read his soul like an open book while no one, not even his own mother, was able to do so? 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He growled, though his voice lacked its usual edge. To be fair, he was too astounded by your clairvoyance – and seduced by your brattiness. 

“Do I?” You pressed, “I’m pretty sure I do when I say that you’ve been distant lately because you’re afraid to let me in and afraid that I’ll see you.” 

His throat worked as he swallowed, the movement of his apple bobbing up and down drawing your attention. While his hands had been previously clenching in frustration, the General seemed to relax a bit. 

When he finally spoke again after a long silence, his voice was rich and smooth like silk, “Does that mean you wish me to let you in?” You sensed a hint of teasing that hadn’t been there before. His ink eyes, gleaming with both amusement and intrigue, fell to your lips. 

 “You’re bold, I must admit…” 

Aleksander leaned forward ever so slightly to reduce the space between you. It was only when he saw your body reacted with surprise, knowing his sudden proximity had caught you off guard, that his lips curled into a faint, almost predatory smile, “I can’t decide whether to be impressed or…” He tilted his head to the side, “whether to remind you who you’re speaking to.” 

“Well, my mother used to call me dangerous but I guess bold also seemed fitting, General.”  Your voice had turned into a brave but trembling whisper, your eyes never breaking contact with his.

The Black General chuckled, low and deep, the sound of it sending pleasant chills down your spine, “Oh Heaven…” He shook his head a bit, the melody of his voice so smooth your own name felt like a caress, “What if I don’t like how freely you’ve decided to challenge me?” The playful threat in his words made your cheeks flush, heat creeping up to your neck and spreading through your entire body. 

And just like that, with his face close and his large hand unexpectedly resting on your thigh, your defiance faltered. In the narrow space of the carriage, his presence seemed to consume all the air around you, making it hard to breathe. His fingers gently bore into your flesh, his thumb caressing you in a circular motion. The feeling sent electric surges through your veins. For a moment, you couldn’t find your voice – his intense stare and threatening grin rendering you speechless. 

Finally, Aleksander leaned back, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he noted your silence – and the irresistible pink hue on your cheek, “That’s what I thought.”  He concluded, his voice laced with a quiet triumph.

You turned your gaze away, your heart hammering in your chest, cursing yourself for letting him unnerve you so easily. But the way his low chuckle had echoed in the confined space left you with the unmistakable feeling that he knew exactly the effect he had on you—and that he wasn’t done playing this game. 

Sulking for real this time, you turned back to the window with an adorable pout etched on your face.

Silence settled for another hour.

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels eventually dulled your anger. Each movement, each echo of the horses’ hooves hitting the ground, worked as a peaceful lullaby. Fatigue was slowly but surely creeping in. After all, you had merely slept last night, too stressed by the encounter with the King. You finally let out a reluctant sigh.  Beaten down by fatigue, your body, stiff for hours, sunk slightly into the comfortable seat. As minutes flew by, your eyelids grew heavy and your head tipped forward. Fuck! You jolted awake and met the General’s gaze.

He had been watching you falling asleep closely, his expression softening at your sleepy doll face.

“Don’t fight it,” He murmured, his tenderness coming back, “You’re sleepy.”

“I’m not.” You mumbled like a child, still very much flustered by the way he had teased you and how he had managed to have the last word of your conversation. You glanced at him, a sulking pout still etched on your angelic face, but you couldn’t deny how right he was. The fatigue of months of training and restless nights weighed heavily and resisting it wasn’t an easy task now that the carriage was gently rocking you. 

“You know that I summon shadows and not sleep, don’t you?” His remark was playful, “Would you let it go if I apologize for not taking your opinion into account?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry, then. For this, and also for messing with you earlier. Please come here.” 

You had wanted to protest, stubborn as you were, but Kirigan shifted, opened his arm, and invited you to lean against him before you could do so. 

“Alright…”

Tentatively, you moved under his arm before resting your head on his shoulder, just like you did the night he brought you to the Little Palace, wrapped in his black coat and kept safe by his protecting hands. You slowly exhaled through your nostrils, comforted by his warmth and sweet perfume. The tension finally eased.

“Better?” He asked quietly, closing his grip around you to keep you all snuggled against him in an intimate, sheltering embrace.

“Hm.”  You hummed, eyes already closed and sleep winning the silent battle it had fought against you. The last thing you felt was the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

The tranquil rhythm of the carriage wheels over the cobblestone roads had pulled you deep into Morpheus’ arms. It didn’t take long for you to surrender to sleep, your head still resting lightly against Aleksander’s shoulders. As the carriage exited a thick forest, sunlight came to hit your heavenly appearance and formed a golden ring around you. There, bathed in the sun and blessed with a peaceful sleep, you seemed completely innocent. Fragile. Pure as freshly fallen snow. The sharp edges of your face were softened, your frown smoothed, and your seraphic traits freed from the usual tension.

Kirigan’s eyes, as black as soot like the remnant of a raging fire and dying amber, indulged in your drop-dead pulchritude. The fascination he had for you was so overwhelming that he lost the notion of time though he couldn’t care more. How could he focus on something else when every synapse of his brain, every fiber of his being, every nerve of his flesh, was occupied by you?  

Soon, studying your face wasn’t enough anymore. He needed to feel you. The General shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you in your sleep, only to pull you closer in a real hug. Now that you were closely tangled with him, the faint scent of your hair — crisp like winter yet surprisingly floral, reminding him of lily-of-the-valley flowers — reached him and tightened the knot of longing in his stomach. 

Aleksander buried his face in your ivory mane for a brief moment and wondered how you had managed to carve your way into his thoughts. How you had destroyed his carefully constructed walls he had spent centuries building high enough to discourage anyone. But you were unlike anyone he had ever known, weren’t you? Unpredictable and fierce like a firestorm even he couldn’t control.  

His hand hovered near your shoulder, hesitating. The conflict he experienced within was still tearing him apart. 

You will break her, Aleksander. Baghra’s sermon played on repeat in the back of his mind.

Rather than stroking your shoulder, Kirigan slowly, cautiously brushed a strand of hair from your face. His fingertips grazed your cold skin with utter gentleness, which made you stirred slightly. Your lips parted as if on the verge of waking, but you settled again, too embedded in sleep to bother. Yes, you were definitely unique, he thought. Destruction wrapped in a pretty bow. Apocalypse concealed in a tiny body made of frost and light. And yet, here the murderous creature was, leaning on him, soothed by his presence. Docile.

Or she will break you.

You wriggled again, unconsciously bringing your face closer to his in your sleep.

Aleksander’s jaw clenched for your plump, glossy lips were far too close to his — calling him. And while he tried to keep his willpower adamant, his body betrayed itself by starting to tremble lightly. He could feel his control fraying, the part of him that craves you warring with the part that knew better. 

You don’t see it, do you? She’s already in your heart, boy. 

A shaky breath escaped his famished mouth.

He shouldn’t allow himself this — this proximity, this vulnerability — but the sight of you, peaceful and unguarded, made him ache in a way he hadn’t thought possible. An ache that was spreading like fire through his veins, every detail of you feeding a yearning he had buried for multiple lives. Fuck, he swore in his mind, he craved you as a drowning man craved air: desperately. 

“You were right. You’re dangerous.” He whispered to the stillness as his fingers explored the fragile skin of your throat and relished the sensation of your pulse. The defiance you carried, your fury, your everything, it all drew him like a moth to a flame and the burn of it was equally ecstatic and painful, “Far more dangerous for me than you think, zyoma maya olya*...” (*moon of my life)

His lips brushed your forehead and laid a light kiss on it, light as a whisper, lingering just long enough to feel the coolness of your skin against his. It was a fleeting but spoke volume of that longing he struggled to contain. It was in these moments, when your walls were down, that resisting you became unbearable, his resolve slipping and his thought spiraling around the idea of how good it would be to touch you without hesitation. To grab you possessively and claim every inch of your skin with his hands and mouth. 

Aleksander gently pressed his forehead against yours then, his eyes shut tight for an instant as he chased away the following thought: What would it be to kiss you? The question scorched his mind, stoking the flames of a desire he couldn’t tame. Suddenly, the tall darkness clenched his fist until his nails bit into his palm, doing so in the desperate hope that physical pain could ground him. Could hold him back from the abyss he teetered on. 

For centuries, loneliness had been his shield — but now, with you so near, it felt like a prison.

“Slow, boys! Slow!” 

The distant sound of the cab man as well as the echo of hooves on stone snatched him from his trance: the King’s Court was nearby. Aleksander let out a long exhale and reopened his eyes, casting one last glance at your enthralling face before straightening his posture while still ensuring that you remained comfortably nestled against him. 

“Time to wake,” He finally said, his voice gentler than he intended.

“Are we there yet?” You asked, your drowsy eyes meeting his briefly after you woke up and, for a fleeting instant, he thought he saw a flicker of genuine trust in the vast desert of your irises. 

“We are.” His arms left your shoulders to let you brace yourself.

“Hmm’kay…” Straightening, you smoothed your hair anxiously and quickly rubbed the Sandman’s dust out of your eyes. 

“One last thing…” Aleksander started.

“Yes, my General?” You asked, your voice raspy with sleepiness.

“I beg you to keep in mind that whatever might happen, whatever the King will say, I’ll be by your side. Through and through.”

Forever and always.

☾ Please consider interacting if you want the story to continue. It is what motivates writers to write the next chapters.

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[in-my-feels-probably]

NIKOLAI LANTSOV MY LOVE

Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded

Salt In The Wound

Request: Maybe some angst/hurt/comfort where reader patches him up or from the show the aftermath of the battle where he's wounded

Hi! This is my first time writing for Nikolai! Bear with me while I try and get his character worked out, he’s a bit hard to write for. But I hope you like the outcome! Thanks for the request :)

(Warnings: season 2 spoilers, mentions of death, mentions of fighting, blood and wounds, general angsty shit, let me know if i missed anything)

—

When you arrived back in Keramzin, you found Nikolai and his crew in tatters. You had gone with Tolya to find the Sword of Neshyenyer, orders directly from Nikolai himself. It was bullshit, in your opinion. 

He had done it to keep you safe, you knew that. He didn’t want you anywhere near the Fold, not while the Darkling still lived. Tolya was more than capable of keeping you safe, so you were sent with him. It wasn’t like Nikolai thought that you couldn’t handle yourself. That wasn’t it at all. He just preferred being the one to keep you safe, and he couldn’t do that while the Darkling was still in play. You had whined, but relented, not wanting to cause him any more stress than he was already under.

After your own obstacles, you finally made it back to Keramzin with the sword in your possession. To your horror, Nikolai’s ship was found wrecked in the valley. 

Tolya ordered everyone to split up, and you followed him. You fought alongside him, letting him take the lead. When you caught onto Nikolai’s trail, a Heartrender found their way up the cliffside where you and Tolya were hiding. 

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered, holding you still by your shoulders. “I have to slow our heartbeats so she doesn’t know we’re coming.”

You nodded, sitting as still as you could beside him. It felt like you were suffocating, your body going rigid. Tolya held you like that until he was sure the other Heartrender was gone, and then he released you. You gasped for breath, slumping against the boulder behind you. Tolya stood, bracing your arm with his to hoist you up.

“Your heart is pounding. Are you that scared for him?” He asked, continuing on Nikolai’s trail. 

You quickly followed behind, trying not to think about the worst possibilities. He could be hurt, or–Saint’s forbid–dead. The thought nearly made your knees buckle. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the idea. But there was no point in pretending. Tolya knew your heart. He knew who it was beating for.

“I always am.”

—

Minutes later, you had followed Tolya all the way through the first crowd of Grisha that were blocking Nikolai and his crew into a corner. Together, you took them down one by one, following their trail all the way to where Nikolai was hiding. The Crows came in from the opposite direction, taking out what was left of the band of Grisha still fighting. 

Tamar buried her axe in the last Squallor’s head, and Nikolai stood to shoot the last remaining Tidemaker. 

The one you would come to hold responsible for the death of Dominik Vertov, Nikolai’s oldest friend. Tolya boosted you over the wooden wall just in time to see her body hit the ground. 

“Nikolai,” you gasped, taking in his appearance. 

He was caked in dirt, his clothes torn. He had cut himself somewhere along his temple and cheek, with blood and grime matted into his hair. His pants were ripped, revealing a nasty gash in his lower thigh. He appeared to be limping as he turned at the sound of your voice, his shoulders slumping in relief. 

You closed the gap between you both, wrapping your arms tight around his neck. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. 

“You’re alright,” he murmured, breathing you in. “Saints, I thought that was it for me for a second there. Sending you with Tolya was smart thinking on my part.”

You squeezed him tighter, grumbling as you scolded him. “I’m never listening to you again! From now on, you’re staying by my side. I don’t care what your orders are. Look at you, you’re hurt!”

“Barely a scratch, darling,” he said reassuringly as he finally pulled away, taking your hand in his. “You can yell at me later, alright? The blade, did you find it?”

Kaz picked up his cane, nodding. “Inej has it. They’ve gone to find Alina and Mal.”

“We have to do the same. If Kirigan brought the fight here, he’s gunning for her.”

Tolya patted Nikolai on the shoulder, getting his attention. “Y/N and I cleared a way into the fort. Come on!”

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to whisk Nikolai away from all the chaos and madness of the looming threat in front of you. Keeping him away from the Fold and out of harm’s way was what your brain was screaming at you to do. But you had your duty to Nikolai, and to Ravka. You had a duty to Alina, who was going to save you all. You had to put aside your own wants, and do what was right. 

Nikolai nodded, squeezing your hand. “Come on, milaya.”

Sweet girl.

You sighed, wrapping one arm around Nikolai’s waist, letting him hold on to the other to brace himself. Once you were sure he was ready, you moved in tandem. Together, you hurried behind the group into the fort. 

—

The following events couldn’t have taken more than an hour. But it felt like a lifetime, watching Nikolai’s every move in the Fold. 

Kaz had given him his cane so that your arms were free. You were able to fight then, and you fought with your life alongside your friends as you made your way through the fort. 

By the end of it, the Fold was gone. The darkness was gone, and the Darkling along with it. 

But not before the nichevo’ya got ahold of Nikolai, clawing him in the shoulder as it dragged him up a column. 

That was the worst of it. Knowing he was looking death in the eye, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The nichevo’ya were unkillable without the blade, and Inej was nowhere in sight. You had clambered to get to him, screaming and waving your hands to try and distract the monster, begging for it to let Nikolai go. 

Tamar had held you back, letting Tolya take the lead alongside Adrik and Nadia. 

“He’d kill me for letting you die for him, and you know it!” She said solemnly, her face crumbling at the sight of her King. “I promised him I would keep you safe, Y/N! Let them do this.”

You felt your knees buckling, and your throat beginning to burn as you let out desperate wails and pleas. You could barely see through your tears as you begged Tamar to let you go, trying to wrench yourself free of her hold. Nadia and Adrik continued to use their powers to try and separate the shadows, their attempts failing.

Finally—to your relief—the monster disappeared upon the Darkling’s death. 

Nikolai dropped to the floor, landing with a harsh thud. Tolya moved to catch him, and Tamar let you go, joining her brother at Nikolai’s side. 

“Kirigan must be dead!”

You scrambled to the floor, reaching for any part of Nikolai you could hold on to. He immediately chased your touch, clinging to your arms as you laid by his side. He gasped for breath, clutching his chest. 

You let out a cry of relief, cupping his jaw. Your throat was raw, your voice small. 

“Nikolai,” you said through tears. “Are you alright?”

He clutched at his shoulder, grimacing in pain. He remained stoic, trying to hide his fear for you. It was a valiant effort, but he couldn’t keep up the facade, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks as he breathed heavily. 

“I’m alright, darling,” he nodded, not sure if his words were more in an effort to reassure you or himself. Either way, not much comfort came from his words. 

He clutched your hands tightly for a moment, before allowing you, Tolya, and Tamar to help him up off the floor.

—

Outside, you rested Nikolai on top of a crate to get him off his feet. 

Inej came down with Alina to confirm the death of the Darkling, letting Nikolai know that Zoya was guarding the body. With your help, he shakily stood, thanking everyone for their help. Much to your displeasure, he asked you to take him back to his ship. He needed a minute to himself, before everyone needed to gather and discuss what to do next.

“That’s a lot of walking on that leg, Nikolai,” you said anxiously, walking cautiously behind him as he led you up the hill. “You’re so stubborn, sometimes.”

He smiled, leaning into you. “You love it.”

You rolled your eyes, keeping your arm around his waist as you followed Tamar and Tolya back to the ship. Aboard the ship, you eased him down onto a turned over barrel. Tolya came over to hand you a sack full of bandages and clean rags.

“Take care of him,” he smiled, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll be over here if you need anything. We should head back to Alina soon, though.”

You nodded, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Tolya. For everything.”

—

“Are you alright?” You asked once everyone had settled, and Tamar and Tolya had given you a moment alone.

“Dominik,” Nikolai answered sadly, casting his eyes to the deck.

“That wasn’t your fault,” you firmly reassured, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him into your side. “He died for his King and country. He was brave enough to save your life. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful to him.”

Nikolai’s face crumbled, and he hid his expression into your side. “I don’t want anyone dying for me, Y/N. I don’t want to be the kind of King who has to ask his people to lay down their lives for him.”

You ran a hand up and down his back, bending down to press a kiss on the top of his head. 

“Listen to me. You’re going to be the best King that Ravka has ever seen. And that comes with making sacrifices. It’s not fair, I know. I know you don’t want it, and I wish I could take on that burden for you. But you’re all we’ve got, and I believe in you. We all do.”

Nikolai sniffled, letting his cheek rest against your stomach. You combed your fingers through his hair, careful to avoid the gash on his temple. 

“I’m so sorry, my love. I know how much Dominik meant to you. But his death wasn’t for nothing, I need you to understand that. He didn’t die in vain. His bravery will be remembered, I promise you that. And so will yours, because of today. I’m so proud of you, lapushka.”

Darling.

“I’m getting blood on your shirt,” he spoke, muffled into you.

“I don’t care, love. It’s just a shirt.”

You lightly chuckled, letting him change the subject. For a man who speaks so highly of himself, Nikolai didn’t take genuine kindness and adoration well. It was a good thing his face was hidden in your shirt. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink at your words, his eyes glazed with tears. You continued running your fingers through his hair, when he finally sniffed, pulling back.

“I care,” he grinned, looking up at you. “That’s my shirt you’re wearing.”

You smiled sheepishly down at him, nodding. “Forgot about that. Well, I suppose we should get you cleaned up, then. Alright?”

Nikolai nodded, and you reached into the bag, pulling out a couple of clean cloths. You used your canteen to wet them, crouching down to deal with the gash on his leg first. You wiped as gently as you could, grimacing when he would wince. 

“I don’t think you need stitches. Best get a Healer, though. I don’t want you limping the rest of the day.”

You finished wrapping his leg, standing to grab a fresh cloth. You wet it, standing to the side of Nikolai to try and wipe the caked blood and dirt out of his hair so you could find the source of the bleeding. You sighed in frustration, gently untangling the hair matted to his temple. 

“What?” He asked quietly.

“Nothing. I just can’t figure out where you’ve cut yourself. I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, darling,” he murmured. 

You nodded, continuing to wipe away the dry blood from his temple. It was a miracle he wasn’t more injured. You huffed, trying not to think about the fact that you weren’t with him when the ship went down. Trying not to think about the fact that he could have died, and you never would have seen him again. Never would have gotten to run your fingers through his hair again, or hold him in your arms. Never—

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt hands grip your hips, pulling you forward. 

You looked down to see Nikolai gazing up at you, his hands resting on your hips. He pulled you into him, slotting you between his legs. You rested your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself. 

“Stop looking at me like that.”

You wouldn’t meet his gaze, clutching his shirt in your hand. “Like what?”

“Like you’re looking at a ghost.”

You clutched him harder, taking a deep breath. You finally met his eyes, and he was looking at you with determination. He tugged you further into him, holding you still. 

“I’m right here, milaya,” he said, reaching for your hands. “I’m alright.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you said shakily, squeezing his hands tight. “I was so worried, Nikolai.”

He stood on wavering legs, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into his chest, squeezing you tight. You pressed your cheek into his chest, clutching him as close to you as you could. You decided to stifle the thought, dropping the conversation. 

He was here with you, right here. And he was alive. That was enough.

“I didn’t finish bandaging you,” you murmured into his chest.

Nikolai chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. “I’ll have Genya do it. You were butchering it, anyway.”

You pulled away, playfully slapping his arm. “Was not!”

“You were,” he mused, taking your hand. “But that’s alright. I don’t keep you around because you’re a good Healer.”

You raised a brow, turning to head off the ship back in the direction of the fort. “And what do you keep me around for, moi tsar?”

Nikolai smirked, taking your hand as you guided him down. “Other things, milaya. Other things.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope this is alright :)

[cheshiresense]

Your latest time-travel verse made me rewatch Kyoraku vs Starrk battle over Fake Katakura.

I have to say, over the years, I have forgotten how sad that battle is. The way Starrk mourns even Barragan's death and loses his (already small to begin with) desire to fight after it... The only reason the guy followed Aizen was because Aizen gave him... friends😭 A pack. The only reason he fought was to protect that pack. Doesn't matter if that pack consisted of some shady individuals. It was his. The first and only one he got in all his 1000+ years of existence. He had no desire to strike down his enemies - didn't kill Ukitake, proposed Love and Rose to retreat with their lives... In a way, he and Ichigo are very much alike in that sense.

Starrk was too honorable and naive and paid for that.

And Shunsui killed Lilynette😭 It is so heartrending when Starrk calls out to her with no answer...

Shunsui's philosophy, on the contrary, allows him "to be evil" in order to win. Yes, he does not like war, just like Starrk, but IMHO, "as soon as the war starts both sides are at fault" does not mean Shunsui is saying that both sides are wrong in the war and to not fight till you completely disable / kill your opponent. I think, to paraphrase, it means: "As soon as the war start, to win, both sides *will* have to be evil / There are no good people in a war because winning a war requires one to do evil things, so someone who were maybe a good person will have to become evil to win". This philosophy, basically, is "to unbound his hands" (as we say in our language, meaning when something is used to make a person free to act), a workaround that allows him to be ruthless to his opponents, despite his pacifistic nature.

Anyway, emotional rant over. I guess I just wanted to share my pain🥲 I just hope Shunsui killing a part of Starrk's soul and the only family he had will somehow be addressed between them in the future in your fic's universe. I think it's just too huge to leave out. And the only way I can see Starrk never saying anything at all to his Shunsui in TYBW timeline - is because he is THAT much of a sucker for pain and/or THAT much desperate for a genuine connection with somebody.

Starrk is just a really tragic character with a really tragic arc, canonically he was never meant to be saved or have a chance at something better.

I don't know if I'd call him particularly honourable, if only because that doesn't seem like the sort of thing he'd really think about and adhere to as a Hollow who'd spent his whole life in a place like Hueco Mundo, not in the same way a Shinigami would. I think it was more that he just didn't want to kill anyone when he'd already killed so many without ever having a choice in the matter, and now that he did, he didn't want to keep doing that if he didn't absolutely have to. He was definitely a bit naive about it because it was war, and he was up against one of the most powerful and ruthless Shinigami in existence. The moment he decided to hold back, he was destined to lose.

For Shunsui, I agree, he believes that to win a war, people have to get their hands dirty, and you can't do that and still remain "good". I also think he thinks that it's disrespectful to not do everything in his power to win, because even if that means throwing away his honour, to do anything less means risking the lives of those he's fighting that war for.

Which ties into why I personally think Starrk doesn't really blame Shunsui for Lilynette's death. I think Starrk is smart enough and similar enough to Shunsui to understand him. And why blame Shunsui when he can blame himself? He's the one who held back from the start, he didn't fight as hard as he could, he even had the chance to kill Shunsui if he'd just gone down to finish the job after shooting him instead of just backing off after disabling him, or he could've even shot him somewhere more leathal like the back of the head instead of the shoulder/chest, because at their level, which Shinigami or Hollow wouldn't survive a simple injury like that? He would've also been able to sense full well that Shunsui's reiatsu signature hadn't disappeared. So that choice is on him, and he paid for it with Lilynette's life.

I also think Starrk didn't have much conviction or resolve, I mean I don't think most of the Espada really believed in Aizen's cause, they just followed him for more power or because Aizen tricked them or forced them, and prob with a side of hypnosis to pave the way. So Starrk didn't even have anything concrete to believe in and fight for aside from a debt he felt he had to repay, and that was quickly wearing away when he saw how Aizen didn't give a shit about them.

So overall, he went into battle against Shunsui without any desire to fight or kill because he thought he didn't really have anything he wanted enough to fight for, right up until he lost Lilynette and realized that yeah he did have something precious to lose after all. In contrast, Shunsui was fighting for Soul Society and to protect his fellow Shinigami, and at the time, he definitely understood that far better than Starrk did.

If Starrk had survived, I think he would've understood that too, plus he just doesn't have the kind of temper that lashes out and casts blame on others due to excess emotion; rather, he has the sort of analytical mind to comprehend the cause and effect of things pretty instantly. That would all play a big part in why he wouldn't blame Shunsui for doing what he had to do to take Starrk out. He and Lilynette were one, Shunsui would've had to kill both of them sooner or later, otherwise he might as well lie down and give up, Starrk wasn't exactly an opponent he could take it easy with.

In the time travel verse here, Idk if I'd make it a particularly huge thing, because for Starrk it's been like 10+ years, I imagine he's laid that ghost to rest a long time ago even if the loss still hurts sometimes, plus it's not TBTP!Shunsui who killed her, and i think he would've hashed out the issue with TYBW!Shunsui already at the beginning. Of course, TBTP!Shunsui is bound to find out about it eventually, which could be interesting to poke at.

But in Take What's Broken (Make It Whole), it'll definitely come up sooner or later. Even if Starrk doesn't bring it up first, Shunsui will, and even if there's no blame, I imagine they would at least have to talk about it going forward.

[ghostlymarauder]

This is, again, a rant about the Grishaverse, on this occasion, about things that annoy me, so if you disagree, you're correct, too.

Let me preface this by saying: I love the books! I devoured the original trilogy, and I'm currently reading the SOC duology. However, there's things that make me want to kill someone:

1. Let's start off with one of the most important: In Russian (one of the base language for Ravkan), Grisha is basically Greg. Yes, it also means "watchful" BUT my problem is that if you're using a language as the base for another language, you shouldn't use something as common as "Greg" to be the name of your supernatural/magical/whatever-the-hell-Grisha-are species.

2. Tailors. And you might ask: what's the problem with Tailors? Well, technically, none. The problem is that it is stated that ALL the Corporalki are capable of using tailoring. FURTHERMORE, NINA ZENIK HAS A SIDE HUSTLE AS A TAILOR. So, why was Genya made fun of? Because if I remember correctly, the Grisha saw her as "useless"... But the Corporalki are capable of being Tailors, too? I don't, it's just confusing.

3. And, speaking of confusing things: the plurals and singulars of the Grisha orders... What do you mean a group of Heartrenders is a group of Corporalki, BUT ONE HEARTRENDER IS A CORPORALNIK??? it's unnecessarily complicated, and I refuse to discuss it.

4. Another thing that bothers me to unexplainable levels is the Squallers' trick at the end of Ruin and Rising... Like, you're telling me Squallers are capable of bending sound, that they know they're capable of bending sound, but no one ever told the Darkling about it. NOT ONLY THAT. You're telling me that in 400 YEARS the Darkling never learned that ability? Why wasn't it used before? No, it was kept for Sankta Alina.

5. I already talked about this in another post, so I'm not going in too much depth: Alina losing her powers at the end of Ruin and Rising is unnecessary and unfair.

6. Keeping it on the topic of Alina... Why did Mal survive? It would've been so interesting to see Alina lose Mal, keep her powers, and be sent in the same path as the Darkling. It would've been so interesting to see if she would become the same as Alekzander or not. Instead, the tracker lives and she gets happily ever after?????

7. What language do they speak in Ravka? Because it's technically Ravkan, but on multiple occasions, the distinction of a single word said in Ravkan is made, meaning they have to speak something else most of the time... But what? Is it English?

8. I am become a blade. No need to explain that one.

9. I'm still reading SOC, so I'll perhaps have another opinion once I read the King of Scars duology, but why the fuck does Zoya become all-powerful (and I mean that literally, she all Etherealki types in one, and I'm pretty sure she also develops Corporalki abilities) yet Alina loses her powers? I'm offended by that, and it's coming from someone who LOVES Zoya's character.

10. The maps and geography of the Grishaverse. I don't think explanation is truly needed, just look at the maps and tell me there isn't something weird.

I'll probably keep adding to this in the future, but if you want to add something that annoys you or debate one of my points, that's completely valid, too!

[thebadgerclan]

Moi Tsar

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary:  After the attack on the Spinning Wheel...

Everything had gone wrong so fast.  One second, you’d been watching as Vasily made a drunken speech about your husband and the Sun Summoner, the next, you’d watched him be dismembered.  Your location had been revealed, the Darkling had attacked, and you’d been separated from Nikolai.  The last you’d seen of him, he’d been herding his mother from the ballroom with a shout of, “Protect the Queen!”

You’d tried to fight, to evacuate as many people as you could, but when the Darkling’s shadow monster had struck you and you’d fallen to the floor, your mind shifted toward getting yourself out.  You were dizzy and delirious with pain, but you’d somehow managed to get into the tunnels dug beneath the Spinning Wheel.  Alya, one of Nikolai’s Grisha, was the first person you found, and you had only one question.

“Nikolai,” you gasped.  “Where is Nikolai?  Is he here?  Was he hurt?  Is–”  “I don’t know,” Alya said, taking your arm and leading you to a cot.  “I’m sure he’s fine.”  Tears built behind your eyes, and you felt panic ebbing in.  “He could have been killed,” you said.  “He could be hurt, he could be dying, he–”  “Y/N!”  You fell silent at the cry of your name, however quiet the voice was.

“Y/N!  Y/N, are you here?”  Nikolai was bordering on hysterical.  When he’d gotten his mother out of danger, he’d returned for you, only to find a splatter of blood on the marble where you’d been standing.  “Y/N!  Y/N!”  He scanned every face he passed, and while he was relieved to see his soldiers alive and here, his priority was you.  “Nikolai?”  He froze, praying he hadn’t misheard.  “Nikolai!”  “Y/N!”  He took off running, and when the crowd parted to reveal you doing the same, he let out a sob.  “Y/N!”

You slammed into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him, knees giving out.  But Nikolai held you up, clutching you to him.  “Oh my love,” he cried.  “I thought… I didn’t…I…. Saints, I thought….”  “I know,” you managed, lifting your face from his chest to look at him.  “I didn’t know what happened to you, where you were.  I thought I’d lost you.”  Your husband smirked, wiping a tear from your cheek. “Never, my darling.  It’ll take more than a shadow demon to take me away from you.”

“Sir,” came Tamar’s voice.  Nikolai didn’t release you from his vice-like grip, but he lifted his head from your hair.  “Baghra’s arrived.  She wishes to speak with you and Alina.”  Nikolai nodded, sweeping you into his arms and following his Heartrender to a private chamber.  The Grisha teacher was waiting when you arrived, and introductions had hardly been made when a girl with flaming auburn hair and horrific scars entered.

Alina embraced her immediately.  “Oh, Genya,” she whispered, and your husband went rigid.  “Genya?” he asked, gently setting you down.  “Genya Safin?  The Grisha who poisoned the King?”  You looked at the girl before you, unable to imagine this shriveled thing able to pull off regicide.  “Moi tsarevich,” she said, and Tamar corrected; “Moi tsar.  He’s your King now.”  Your gaze flew from Genya to your husband.  The King?  You wracked your brain, trying to remember anything but chaos from the party, but only one thing stood out: Protect the Queen, he’d ordered, but he hadn’t meant his mother, he’d meant you.  You were the Queen now.

Try as you might, you barely heard anything after that.  You were Queen, Nikolai was King.  Both Vasily and Pytor dead in a matter of minutes.  You barely noticed when Alina led Genya from the room, but when Nikolai gently took your hand and sat you on the bed, you snapped to attention.  “Are you alright?” he asked, cupping your face, scanning you for wounds.  “I… I don’t…”  Your husband pulled you into his arms, and you crawled into his lap, pressing your face into his chest.  He smelled like smoke and gunpowder, but beneath it, that unmistakable smell that was your Nikolai.

“You’re the King,” you managed, and Nikolai nodded.  “Yes,” he replied, voice cracking. “I am.”  After a few minutes, you lifted your head, locking eyes with your husband.  “Kolya, I thought you were dead.”  “I thought the same of you,” he said, tightening his hold on you.  Tamar entered, bearing a basin of warm water and a few pieces of cloth, which Nikolai thanked her for, before leaving the two of you alone.

Your husband cleaned the blood and grime from your face, and you did the same for him, all while remaining in his lap.  “What do we do now?” you whispered as Nikolai laid down, pulling you into his arms.  “We leave for Zvedya in the morning,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.  “We regroup, and we keep fighting.  For Ravka.  For the future.  For what we love most.”

Nikolai pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, winding his arms around you.  “I love you, my darling,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.  “My Y/N, my love, my darling.  I love you so much.  “I love you too, Nikolai,” you replied, nuzzling your face into his chest.  “I love you.”  Exhaustion soon pulled you under, your husband following soon after.  Your sleep was dreamless, and when you woke, it was to Nikolai pressing gentle kisses to your forehead.

“Wake up, lovely,” he coaxed.  “We’re leaving.”  As much as you wanted to burrow under the blankets and pretend that yesterday hadn’t happened, you rose and dressed, shouldering your new mantle as Queen of Ravka.  You’d been attacked, yes, your soldiers wounded, some returned to the Saints, but you would fight on.  With Nikolai at your side, leading your men and women, you would persevere.  And if your country wanted to be a drowning man, then you’d just have to dive in headfirst and save it.

[petertingle-yipyip]

STRANGER (xiv) - KAZ BREKKER

tags: @beekeepingageissome @shadowzena43 @nikfigueiredo @mp-littlebit @starmansirius @hadesnumber1daughter @directioner5life @strvngestark @hostilityghost @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @justnerdystuffs @faeriepigeons // previously // next

Pairing: Kaz x Davina Rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 6,940

Summary: Backed into a corner, Davina makes a shaky deal with the last person in Kerch she wanted to be tied to. Are good intentions enough to justify what she’s done?

He thought Davina was a pain, then he had a conversation with her Heartrender friend. Suddenly speaking to Davina, even arguing with the woman, was seeming more appealing by the second. If he called for her, would she answer? If she answered, would she be kind?

“What business?” He asked flatly, not bothering to look up from studying his all too familiar cane.

“Davina sent me.” The Heartrender answered.

“And I should care why?”

“I saved your life, you ungrateful bastard!”

“Regretting that now, are we?” Kaz mocked.

Kaz knew better than to push the Grisha too far. With a flick of his wrist, he could knock Kaz out cold. He could kill him if he wanted to. But he also knew that the Heartrender followed orders from Davina, and for all Davina’s faults, she wouldn’t let Kaz die. She’d proven that much. She’d gut him and hurt him herself, with words or weapons, but he’d live.

“Kol, was it?” Kaz looked up finally and the man in front of him was staring daggers. “Let’s talk about your leader, shall we?” Kaz gestured to the open chair.

Hesitantly, Kol sat.

“Give me one reason I should keep defending you.” Kol said sharply.

“Defending me?” Kaz almost laughed. “I don’t need your defense.”

“With Davina. Do you even realize what it does to her, to feel as she does?”

The enormity of his desire in regards to Davina disgusted him. He wanted so much where she was concerned. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from the pains the Barrel caused, that her father caused. He wanted to fight beside her. He wanted to hear her scold him and he wanted to scream at her. He wanted to blame her and forgive her. Wage war for and against her. To give her anything and everything. To lean against her and raise her up. He wanted to own the Barrel just to share it with her.

But he would never admit that he knew exactly what it meant to feel as she did, especially not to Kol.

“Her heart will get her killed.” Kaz waved a dismissive hand. “That’s her weakness. She lets people in.”

“She’s stronger for it.” Kol shook his head.

“Is Melli? Are you?” Kaz struck a nerve with that one and he saw it on the Heartrender’s face.

“Are you any stronger for not letting anyone in?”

Kaz made a gesture to the things around him.

“My reputation speaks for itself.” Kaz said, almost proudly.

“You saw her as a threat when she wore the hood, before you knew her name. She had the same heart then.”

“She hid it better.”

After he learned who she was, everything was obvious. She didn’t hide her heart at all, really. Not when she had the drawings and her ring brought to him. The drawings which now felt like contraband, like the one piece of evidence that proved him a liar. That proved Dirtyhands had a heart and it beat for the Rollins Princess. That proof sat in the top drawer of his desk.

“You’re impossible.” Kol scoffed.

“So leave.” Kaz shrugged.

“Do you care about her at all?”

“She wouldn’t be alive if I didn’t.” 

A heavy silence fell over the men. Kaz could hear the chaos that was the Crow Club. If he focused enough, he could hear the money being exchanged. But even with the thoughts of his own potential wealth, he couldn’t quite get Davina out of his thoughts.

“You make her vulnerable.” Kol continued.

Kaz had to avert his gaze to hide his eye roll. He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to knock himself out just to spare himself the conversation.

“Is that all you’ve come for, to tell me what Davina thinks of me?” Kaz challenged, though there wasn’t as much edge to his words as expected. “Does she know you’re here telling her deepest feelings?”

“No.” Kol admitted, regret settling across his features. “She didn’t tell me what to talk about, actually.”

“She just sent you for a chat?” Kaz looked at him in disbelief. “Davina doesn’t do things without reason… She’s planning something, isn't she?”

“She’s been different since that night. Bringing home Melli was supposed to set things right, but now she seems different. Distant.”

“What did you expect? Her father nearly had her closest friend killed.”

Kaz wondered if Davina saw the parallel. He knew he wouldn’t be the one to bring it up. He’d rather take a hit to the jaw by every Dime Lion than mention that to her.

“I can’t help her through this but you might.” Kol continued.

“If you’ve come for sympathy, you’re sorely mistaken.” Kaz bit out. The words tasted bitter but he said them nonetheless.

“Not sympathy. Understanding… She listens to you, Brekker. For some reason only the Saints understand, your word carries weight with her.”

“What, exactly, do you think I can do for her that you cannot?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be some mastermind? Figure it out.” Kol’s focused turned towards the door, likely thinking about Davina and her crusade.

Kaz took the silence as a chance to think as well. If Davina was pulling away from her friends, he knew it was so she could stand against her father with less worries. The possibility of losing Melli must’ve hit her so much harder than she let on. Why else would she cut herself off from her support? She was willing to go on a suicide mission and wanted to make sure no one would mourn her. Who would mourn someone that was so cruel in their last interactions?

The realization hit him like a punch to the stomach. Davina was trying to burn the bridge with him as well.

“You should go.” Kaz finally spoke. He needed some time alone to truly think.

Kol didn’t protest. “Will you consider what I’ve said?”

“Keep an eye on her. My friends and I will be leaving town soon so we can’t rescue her if one of her idiotic plans backfires on her.”

“Leaving permanently?”

“Don’t look so hopeful, Kol.” Kaz mocked. “Long enough that she can get herself killed but not long enough that her damage can’t be undone.”

“Best of luck.” Kol nodded. A polite response, even if he didn’t quite seem to mean it. “I’ll be sure to ask the Saints to protect you all.”

Kaz pulled a face and waved the man away. He had enough back and forth with the man, adding the topic of Saints to that pile was not on Kaz’s to-do list. Instead, his focus locked on one of Davina’s drawings. It was always on top of his paperwork stack, as if without the visibility it would be gone. It was a reminder, like the little ring still tucked safely under his shirt, of her. Not anything particular about her, just her, and that was always enough.

“Kaz.” Jesper burst through the door. Kaz casually looked up, even though the sudden appearance of his friend did jolt him from his thoughts. “You’ve gotta see this.”

Kaz raised a brow but didn’t move. Jesper groaned in annoyance.

“One of Davina’s got the boot and he’s been left at the card tables.” He continued.

Now that had his attention.

“Which one?” Kaz asked as he stood, careful not to seem too interested.

Jesper shrugged and led Kaz to the man whose hand was currently stuck to the card table. The hilt of the blade was easy to recognize. He’d had that blade held against him, slashed along his skin for shallow wounds. He’d recognize it anywhere, the same as he could Inej’s blades.

Davina left that man there, a statement to those who could figure who she was out that she was not done. She would cut down whoever she had to in order to get what she wanted, which was just to keep her friends safe. Anyone against her would be dealt with accordingly.

She was strong. She made the hard choices. She was the only person beyond his Crows that cared whether or not he lived or died. The only other person he could trust.

So, potentially like a fool, he went to her.

It took three days after Kaz left to get into the Menagerie. You had Kol visit Inej’s friend. True to Inej’s word, the girl was eager to help. Her information corroborated what Inej left for you, though you never doubted her.

One night when you knew Heleen was out of office, you sent Kol to see his new friend while you climbed the building nearest the office window.

Heleen’s office was heavily scented with whatever candle she was last burning. You wrinkled your nose and pulled your scarf tighter around your face. You shuffled through papers on her desk first, just in case anything was interesting. All you found was a calendar with names you didn’t recognize and little drawings of animals beside them.

Appointments, you realized with disgust. That was another  thing you planned to burn.

You went to the drawers next. Flipping through, most of it was indentures. You were tempted to burn it all, but Heleen would only find new girls to replace them. You wondered vaguely if there was a way to end the Menagerie completely. But you understood that it was a means of profit first off and Ketterdam was nothing if not for profit, and getting rid of one Pleasure House would do little in the grand scheme of things. If the Merchant Council truly cared about the way things were in Ketterdam, the Barrel wouldn’t exist.

So you shook the thought, as well-intentioned as it was, and focused on the task at hand.

The Crow Club deed wasn’t hard to find. You tucked it safely into your cloak’s main pocket before continuing to the next drawer. The indenture for your ally was easy as well. Too easy, even. But where was Inej’s?

As you were pulling the paperwork, the door opened and your ally was dragged behind her. You spun quickly, slammed the drawer, and hid the contact behind your back. You mentally cursed yourself, wondering just how long had you been searching? How distracted were you?

“Why am I not surprised?” Heleen sighed. “A Snake.”

“The Snake, actually.” You countered calmly. “Who’s she?”

“You don’t know?”

You shrugged. To her credit, the woman didn’t seem fazed. There was an apology in her eyes so you knew it wasn’t a set-up. You did it to yourself.

“Don’t you want to know where her client went? He’s one of your pets, isn’t he?” Heleen’s taunts continued.

Your eyes flicked to the nearest candle. The edge of the desk, top right corner of the large calendar. One slip of the hand and you could burn both. It wouldn’t halt her business in any way but it’d be a hindrance at least.

“So long as my Snakes are respectful in their debauchery, I don’t quite care who they visit.” You laughed.

She hummed in delight before shoving the girl away. Your ally gave you a brief nod before disappearing into the halls.

“Care to tell me why you’re here, pilfering my personal items?” Heleen asked, shooing you out from behind her desk.

“I heard that a certain Bastard left something with you in exchange for your blessing to take the Wraith on a little trip.” You began. It was true enough. “I want it.”

She laughed. You faced her head on. “You’re serious?” She asked, that stupid grin still plastered to her face.

“Yes.”

“Your father already tried to convince me and he failed. Why should I give it to you?”

“As a business venture.” You continued confidently. “If he manages to secure his payout and returns to pay out Ms. Ghafa’s indenture, you lose income.”

She scowled at the idea. Profit was everyone’s master after all.

“Give me what Dirtyhands left with you and I can ensure Inej’s indenture lasts a long time, regardless of the money he offers you.” The threat was a nasty sentence, one you never thought you’d say, but you needed the facade. You needed the rumor of turning your back on Kaz and his crew.

She tapped her manicured finger against her desk in thought. The deed sat heavily in your cloak’s pocket, burning against your side. You already had your prize. Any deal with Heleen was a distraction. You needed time, enough for Kol to ensure the woman who helped you gets out and enough for you to leave without drawing suspicions. You could already tell the vile woman was intrigued.

“You don’t even know what it is.” She tried.

“I don’t have to. If Brekker was willing to wager it and you accepted it as collateral, it has to be valuable. That’s enough for me.”

“Tell me why I should risk double crossing the Bastard.” She said, pretending to be on the fence.

You shrugged slightly. “You let me worry about that. I can be very persuasive.”

You carefully pulled the indenture paperwork from behind your back. “Admittedly, I was looking for it, just to know what it was before making the deal. Or if I could find Inej’s indenture, I could’ve made a different deal, but I found this one. I can’t read the name.”

You squinted at the paper and moved closer to the flame. Heleen’s hand shot out to snatch it from you but you moved quickly, withdrawing the paper and sticking it in the flames. It caught fire quickly.

“Oh, Saints.” You feigned and dropped the flaming parchment. It landed on the calendar, soon igniting it. “I’m sorry.”

“You fool!” She screeched, throwing a nearby glass of water on the small fire.

“It looks like you’re short one woman now.” You frowned. “Almost like you need the deal with me so you don’t lost a pair.”

“No matter.” She attempted to regain her composure. “I can redraw the paperwork. The little wretch will never know.”

“Wretch?” You repeated, frowning slightly. “That’s harsh, Heleen.”

“I’d say it’s rather kind compared to what I could say about you.”

You waved her off. “I am curious… Doesn’t she need to sign the indenture?” You asked innocently. “And you’ll need a notary, but bringing this to the Exchange will prove you’ve lost it. Her name will already be recorded as an indenture but with no paperwork on your end to prove what she still owes you… They’ll have to let her go.”

You shrugged. “Well, I’m sure you have a lot to think about. I’ll be back tomorrow to know your answer.”

“Your father raised you well.” She commented on your way out the door, freezing you in place for a moment. “You were made for this place. You may even rule it as he does someday..”

“So they tell me. But it’ll take more than a few fires to dethrone the King.” You shot over your shoulder and left.

Two out of three goals - and a bonus task - wasn’t bad, but you needed to complete the third. You owed it to Inej to see it through.

A few hours later, Kol met you in your office.

“Our friend is aboard a cargo ship for Novyi Zem. Her papers should get her through customs and she has enough kruge for a decent start after exchange. ” He told you “She insisted I tell you how grateful she is.”

“That’s good. I’m glad she’ll be happy.” You nodded. “Inej should be relieved, too.”

“How’d you fair?”

“I got what I really needed.” Your foot tapped the floorboard. “And I freed our little ally, but I didn’t get everything.”

“What’d you miss?”

“The Wraith’s indenture.” You confessed. “I told Inej I’d burn it, same as I did the other, just to make sure she’s taken care of if Brekker’s job comes up short.”

“When has he ever come up short?” Kol rolled his eyes.

“That’s the thing. I don’t know what this job entails for them. I could tell it had a massive payout, considering someone tried to warn him off the job.”

“You think he should’ve passed on it?”

“If there’s one thing Kaz Brekker will never pass on, it’s a solid bounty.” You laughed slightly. “Him being gone leaves me with time to try and fix this but I don’t know how much time I actually have left.”

“Can you get in again?” Kol offered.

“I doubt it. Guards at the Menagerie have probably been doubled by now or at the very least someone’ll patrol her office more consistently. She’ll expect me to come for it… I had one chance at it and it’s gone.”

“I can go with you.” He offered. “They won’t stop us both. Melli might want in on this one, too.”

“She’ll have moved it by now. It may not even be at the Menagerie at all anymore.” You shook your head. “No matter what I do, if Brekker doesn’t come through, Inej goes back to the Menagerie.”

“Then we’ll break her out. The Crows and us, we’ll get her back, even if we have to force Heleen’s hand.” He was so determined. “Inej is our friend too, Davina. She fought for Melli.”

“If that’s all it takes, Kol, then you should consider Kaz our friend, too.”

He waved a hand and you chuckled quietly. “We can’t let it happen to Inej.”

“You’re right. I know Melli’s gonna tell me the same thing but for now, it’s in Brekker’s hands.” You sighed. “Keep an ear on the harbor for when they return. I’ll keep tabs on the Menagerie.”

Rumors were flying by the next day. Tante Heleen made it known that she was robbed by the Rollins Princess. Stadwatch paid no mind to it, however. Maybe your last conversation had them thinking it was a baseless accusation. Either that or her refusal to say what was stolen made her unreliable.

If word got out that she had the Crow Club and lost it, she’d be humiliated. You’d be elevated to a new level as a threat in the Barrel. Anyone who didn’t consider you a Barrel Boss would have no choice. All incentive for her to keep the details under wraps.

By the night, however, Heleen was dead and your father was in your office. You couldn’t immediately prove the two were related, but you wouldn’t put anything past your father.

“Hello, Davina.” Your father smiled. Your head snapped up from your desk, seeing him flanked by a Lion on either side. How he got past Adrin, you didn’t know but the potential of her hurt gripped your heart. It must’ve been readable on your face because your father offered a falsely sympathetic smile. “Don’t fret. Your doorman is unharmed.”

“What business, Pekka?” You asked tightly. One hand went to one of the sheaths of your vest, fingers inching towards a blade. You wouldn’t become the next death by your father’s hands that night.

“We’re not here to fight. I hear you’ve come into your own, finding prime real estate in the Barrel.”

“Meaning?” You raised a brow. No way would you confess to having the Crow Club deed. The document was locked away in a safe beneath your floorboards, something you had Kol help you place when you first got the Poisoned Rook. Not even Kol knew what was there, only that it was your prize from the Menagerie job.

“Brekker’s club. I want it.” He shrugged. “Name your price, Daughter.”

“You cannot have it. I don’t care what you offer me. It won’t be yours.”

“Let’s not play this game, Davi.” He gestured to the men beside him. “You’ll lose.”

“Not in my own club, I won’t.” You stood slowly and drew the blade. Inej’s blade. You had just sent Kol home for the night, which meant you would really be alone in the fight against your father and his men. But he made the mistake of bringing men you recognized, men you’d fought before, men you could beat. “What makes you think I’d sell the Crow Club if I had it?”

“I know Tante Heleen had it. She said something interesting when I went to speak with her earlier. Said you came by asking for it, and that same night it was gone.”

“Sounds like coincidence to me.”

“Now she’s dead and all of her properties are mine. You saw an opportunity to expand your empire. I’m proud of you.”

“I had nothing to do with Heleen.” You shrugged. “I can’t stand the woman but I wouldn’t kill her.”

“Of course not.” He shook his head. “Brekker and his crew did that.”

You didn’t bother to hide your confusion. “They’re not here.”

“They’ll go down for it either way. Don’t you see? The truth is what I make it, what we make it. Now I’ll give you two options, Davi.” He held up a finger. “One, you sell me the Club and your little crew is safe. No one’ll dare lay a finger on you or your Snakes.”

A tempting proposition.

“Or?”

“Or…” He held up a second finger. “You’re all dead and word gets out that Brekker and his crew did it. Stadwatch hauls them all in and they rot away in Hellgate. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get to see it all happen before you die. Call it a gift.”

You crossed your arms, feeling backed into a corner. You couldn’t let your father have the Crow Club. You couldn’t betray Kaz that way. You made a deal to keep an eye on the Club, which basically meant keeping Pekka away from it. But you also knew Pekka wasn’t kidding when it came to killing your people and you had to keep them safe.

So that’s what you would do, while also keeping your word to Kaz, even if it didn’t look like it. Pekka wasn’t going to take your friends from you again, not without one hell of a fight.

You recognized it was also a second chance. If all of Heleen’s properties were now your father’s, that meant the Menagerie, which meant every indenture belonging to the damned Pleasure House. Your father owned Inej’s contract, which had to have been part of the game in acquiring Heleen’s businesses, and he was going to be your way to take it back. 

All you had to do was play along.

“I won’t sell you the Crow Club.” You said firmly, sheathing the blade. “But I have something else in mind.”

He hummed in interest. “I’m listening.”

“The Club stays with me, but I will return home.” You carefully laid out your idea. “Spin it however you want. Name the place whatever you want but it is mine. The Snakes remain intact and untouched, with a successor of my choosing, and maintain sole ownership of the Poisoned Rook. They’ll pay a tax to the Lions, of course, for the protection. Dime Lions can take over working the Club under my supervision.”

“A family reunion.” He smiled. 

“A united front.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I can’t beat you.” You played up the disappointment in your voice. “I thought with Brekker I could, but he’s gone. He was far too willing to leave me for dead so why should I care if he gets his Club back? I finally realized he’s no ally of mine. Think about it, Papa. The King reunited with his Princess, the Rollins dynasty restored, made whole again… And you get to show Brekker who truly runs this place. We can make him regret the day he decided to try out the Barrel.”

The last sentence tasted bitter in your mouth.

His smile grew a little wider. He truly was proud of you in those moments and it made you sick. “Welcome home, Davi.”

You held out a hand for him to shake. “Do we have a deal?”

“The deal is the deal.” He shook your hand.

It felt like a death grip, not on your hand but around your heart. You’d have to figure out how to explain it all to Kaz upon his return. Your father took everything from him before, and with that handshake, you had done the same. Your father’s daughter indeed.

You dreaded the reunion.

The Crow Club was renamed by the next night.

“The Kaelish Prince?” You frowned at the sign.

“You said whatever I wanted.”

“You would only ever refer to yourself as King, which means this isn’t about you. It’s clearly not for me, leaving…” You trailed off in realization.

“Honor of my boy.” Your father beamed. “Your brother, Alby. Problem?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.” You answered flatly. “The boy inherits your kingdom still?”

“You might earn it back.” He shrugged. “Lad’s still young but whatever you build here with me, Davi, will always be yours. The entire Barrel can be yours.”

You had a comment on your tongue, about his legacy and his fortune going to a spoiled child, but you held back. Heleen was right about one thing. You were made for the Barrel. Alby wasn’t. You didn’t need to know the boy to know that. Tearing down your father’s kingdom just might be the greatest thing you could do for that boy’s future.

You were in the Palace when you were young, watching money exchange hands and card games be stacked. You could count cards before you could fasten your own dress buttons. Your father didn’t raise you to be his successor but the Barrel raised you to outdo him.

It was a trick, to lure you into some sort of mutiny or double cross. If you walked away now, you risked the Snakes. You’d leave Inej at Pekka’s mercy. The rumors of Heleen’s death coming at the hands of the Crows were already in full swing. Wanted posters were all over Ketterdam. Stadwatch was in your family’s pocket.

Kaz and his friends were doomed unless you stayed put and began unraveling your father’s empire from the inside. So you bit your tongue.

It didn’t take long for your father to clear the Dregs out of the former Crow Club. Dime Lions took up the positions quickly and the place was as busy as ever. You occupied Kaz’s former office and it felt strange to put it lightly.

You were haunted by his presence in that room, despite him being completely out of the country. It seemed like everywhere you were, you heard his voice. You remembered some interaction with him in that room. His DeKappel still hung on the wall and there were several instances where you simply stared at it. If you stared long enough, you could almost imagine the leather of his gloves against your hand.

Everything about you had changed in those few short days. You’d gone missing from the Poisoned Rook entirely. Your last words to Kol were for him and Melli to manage it while Adrin and Stephan alternated at the door in his absence.

Your hair was still the altered, shadowy red, but it was now neatly braided and pinned out of your face. You wore much nicer clothes, more like your father’s, though he couldn’t take the Grisha made vest from underneath it. And it was easy enough to stash blades up your fitted long sleeves. You had to add rogue to your cheeks and darken your lashes. When you asked your father what all the fuss was about with your appearance, he said that there were certain expectations of a Rollins. Anything less was unacceptable.

When you managed to wear your cloak, it was simply for dramatics or just the comfortable weight on your shoulders. You didn’t hide in the shadows of its hood. You weren’t allowed to.

It was as if the Hood didn’t exist anymore.

You were merely your father’s puppet at that point. A pawn he was playing until you would quit and give him the deed to the new Kaelish Prince. But you could not yield. You were too stubborn for that, too loyal to Kaz, too ready to give up everything for the people you loved.

You were walking the floor one night, almost a week since Kaz left. You hadn’t heard any news, not that you knew which country to pay attention to, and you were beginning to dread. It was possible that he was dead, that they were all dead, or they had failed so they weren’t coming back. Maybe he was reworking his plan and finding a new way to bring back enough kruge to free Inej.

You were dressed in darker clothes, more like what you wore prior to your reclaim of the Rollins family, with your cloak around your shoulders. You were going out as soon as your father left. The man was spending most nights at the Kaelish Prince, as if he needed to watch you. He did, and you both knew it, but neither of you would address it.

You had plans to sneak into two places. The first being your home building. There was an explanation you owed Melli and you had it written in a rushed note, safely tucked away in your cloak’s knife sheath. You wouldn’t be able to talk to her. You wouldn’t be able to leave her again if you did, so the note was your only option.

The second was the Menagerie. You were going to tear through every file, every drawer, every stack of paper in that cursed building to find Inej’s papers and burn them.

“Look at that.” A Lion pointed across the room. The man was assigned to be your guard. You figured it out by the way he was always less than ten feet away. Whether it was to keep you in the Kaelish Prince or keep you safe, you didn’t know. It wouldn’t make a difference.

You could just see the familiar face yelling about something you couldn’t hear near the door.

“Ah!” Your father seemed delighted. “Mellaney’s returned! Maybe she’ll want to join us for a few drinks. Davi, care to do the honors?”

“She shouldn’t be here.” You sighed. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Not so fast.” He said flatly and the guard took a step closer. “How do I know this isn’t a ploy?”

“I haven’t talked to her in a week. If there’s any plan, it’s hers and I can stop it before she does anything. If it was the Heartrender boy, it’d be different, but it’s Melli…”

Your father clearly wasn’t convinced.

“I can get rid of her. She’ll listen to me.” You nearly begged. “Papa, please. Let me talk to her. I’m the one she’s looking for anyway. It’ll be the last time.”

“Alright.” He shrugged slightly and nodded. “What harm could it do, eh? Make it quick.”

It took all your self-control to not run to your friend. You grabbed her arm and pulled her to a quieter corner.

“What are you doing here?” She asked in a panic. “What happened to the Crow Club? Does Kaz know about this?”

“It’s alright, Mel.” You said calmly, though you knew your own panic was obvious in your eyes. All you could think was that she shouldn’t be there.“I chose to be here.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because… There’s so much more than I can tell you right now.”

“What are you wearing?” She frowned at your new clothes. “And your face! Since when do you-“

“Right now, you need to go home and talk to Kol. Tell him everything is alright and I’m where I need to be.”

“I’m not leaving.” She argued. “You tell me and Kol to look after things and then you disappear! I thought you were dead until I was walking by and saw you in here, smiling with Pekka!”

“We all have our roles to play in this.” You said urgently.

“So what’s yours then, Princess?”

You frowned at her use of the street name. Why couldn’t she see that you couldn’t speak freely in that place?

“Right now, you need to be my successor with the Snakes. Name Kol your lieutenant. Keep them alive and away from this.”

“Don’t do this, Vina.” She whispered.

“You’ve heard the rumors about Kaz and his friends, Mel. Who do you think started them?”

“Pekka can’t control Stadwatch.” She shook her head, as if that would be enough to make that statement true.

“You’d be surprised.” You sighed. “This is a risk I have to take. It’ll make sense soon.”

Your arms were tight around Melli. You knew once you let go, she’d be gone. You doubted you’d get to see her again, not until it was all over at least, so you memorized everything in that moment. You memorized how her arms wrapped around you, how her hair felt against your cheek, how her shoulders shook with her quiet cries.

One of the Lions cleared their throat behind you, signaling that your farewell was over. You forced yourself to pull away. Melli sniffled, her eyes brimming with tears. You let your own fall freely as you undid your cloak and pinned it around her shoulders instead. You patted the spot over the empty sheath. There was a slight crinkle of paper and you felt the folded edge through the fabric.

Maybe Melli felt it too.

You turned away and followed the Lion back to your fathers side, letting out one long and shaky breath to regain your composure. All you could do was hope she’d find the note and be able to forgive you when all was said and done.

You didn’t want to think about what earning Kaz’s forgiveness would take now.

dearest melli,

you know me better than anyone. you know i wouldnt have made this choice if i didn’t think it was what was best. trust me when i tell you that this was in everyones best interest. i have to protect you and kol and the rest of the snakes. you are their leader now. theyll look to you and kol. it should be a smooth transition, especially once word gets out about me.

the princess returning to the king because she couldn’t stand on her own. all ive done is give my father more power when i just wanted to keep my word to kaz and keep you safe. what a mess ive made this time, huh?

when the crows come to you (and i know they will) take them in with open arms. welcome them as if you were me. protect them as long as you can, please. they have nowhere else. distract them if they ask about me. they cant know what ive done until i can explain it myself. but truthfully melli i dont know if there is a way to explain this.

this decision will be my last stand. i will not back down. i will not turn away. i will face this and all its consequences head on. i will show my father who ive become, who he had forced me to be.

if this is what finally kills me, you need to know that i love you, melli. you are my family and i wish i knew another way out. tell kol i love him, too. and yes, you can tell kaz the same. (he might not believe you or seem to care) i dont regret anything that brought me here.

i leave this next message for you. not kol. not adrin. not any other snake or any crow. only you. after reading this, you have to destroy at least this part. tear it into tiny pieces and burn it if you have to. it can never be found.

i write this in hopes that you will understand the weight of all the decisions ive made up to this point. when i was young, i knew kaz and his brother. yes, he had a brother. kaz was my first crush, him and his brother my only friends, and my father ran a con that took everything from them. kaz lost his brother (and his childhood) to the plague soon after. i didnt know until it was too late. that is why i left my father. that is why ive always tried to keep things right with kaz. and i relived that all when the lions had you.

and lastly, whatever you do, do not let anyone touch the safe. kol knows where it is. everything falls apart if that’s lost.

blink last, die tomorrow - DMR xx

You were praying Kaz was having better luck than you.

Meanwhile, Kaz was not.

It was a job with odds stacked against him. He knew that much going into it, but dammit all if he wasn’t convinced his Crows could pull it off. He ended up in over his head. Every plan he made unraveled before his eyes so they were returning to Ketterdam empty-handed.

“So… We’re going to Davs for help, yeah?” Jesper asked on the ship ride back.

Inej looked at Kaz with a knowing expression. He let it slip that Heleen would get the Club and Inej if they failed. But Kaz recognized something else in her expression, something knowing and hopeful. He knew she was hiding something since before they left, but he hadn’t given it enough thought to figure out what exactly it was.

“We don’t need Davina.” Kaz muttered. “We’ll manage. We always do.”

“Alright, but…” Jesper tried and Kaz sighed loudly in annoyance. “It’s an option.”

“She is resourceful.” Inej added carefully. Whatever she was hiding, it had to do with Davina. “And she cares about what happens to us.”

“Us?” Jesper snorted. “She cares about Kaz. We’re only involved by association.”

“That’s not true.” Inej frowned. “I’m sure if either of us asked her for help, she wouldn’t hesitate.”

“And are you only bringing that up because you saved her life so she owes you?” Kaz countered. “Or is that just coincidence?”

“She saved yours, too.” Inej shot back. “You would’ve bled out if she hadn’t offered her home. Her bed. Her Healer.”

Kaz scoffed slightly.

“Her Heartrender’s quite the looker.” Jesper said casually. “You think they ever-” Inej kicked Jesper in the shin before he could finish.

“No.” She said firmly. “Kol has eyes for the lieutenant, Melli.”

“Melli’s cute, too.” Jesper shrugged.

“No one’s hosting a beauty contest in the Barrel so looks don’t exactly help any goal.” Kaz muttered.

“Honestly, I think that’s why word got around that you two spent a night or two together.” Jesper continued. “Couple pretty things like you two? It’s fair to assume.”

“Shut up, Jesper.” Kaz sighed.

He would never admit any sort of thoughts of Davina, only ones where she was involved with her father’s demise, but that didn’t mean they didn’t exist. He thought of her voice when he couldn’t sleep, the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, the way she fussed over him after the cafe. He’d never wanted anyone the way he did Davina.

She changed everything. The Saints never listened to him. He’d accepted that long ago. Even still, he’d fall to his knees and beg them to let him keep her if it came to it. She used to be his secondary phantom, following him the way Jordie did, reminders of another life come and gone. She was a bane to his existence, then he all but felt the ground shift and suddenly, she was the center of it.

“Hello?” Jesper was waving a hand in front of his face for his attention. “You weren’t listening.” His friend frowned.

Inej smiled to herself, like she knew exactly where Kaz’s mind went. If anyone would know, it would have to be Inej.

Kaz decided to ignore them both.

“He was thinking.” Inej answered teasingly.

“About what? About how we’re not coming back with our haul? Or how we barely escaped certain death?”

“Couldn't you tell by the glint in his eye?”

“Honestly, it looks the same as when he gets murder-y.”

“No, that’s the lovestruck look.”

“He has one of those?”

“He’s planning what he’ll say to Davina. He’ll need quite the speech.”

“For what?” Kaz gave in.

“To actually thank her for not letting you die.” Inej said pointedly.

“You didn’t thank her?” Jesper was shocked.

Kaz thought for a moment. Hadn’t he?

“No.” He confessed. “She went on some rant about how we shouldn't have been there and then said something about…”

Kaz wasn’t going to finish that. She didn’t exactly say Jordie’s name but the intent was clear. That hurt him more than any bullet wound.

“Right.” Jesper nodded slowly. “I forgot about your little lover’s quarrel.”

“Why are you so interested in Davina’s help?” Kaz asked, looking to shift focus off of him.

“She’s the only person that’s ever tried to help us. That’s worth something.” Jesper answered.

“If you’re not,” Inej began, that ‘matter of fact’ tone in her voice. “Why did you visit Davina?”

“I didn’t.” Kaz lied.

“You did. Two nights before we left, you went to her office.”

“Were you watching me?”

“Answer the question, Kaz.” Jesper added.

“I only went to ensure she didn’t make a move on Pekka while we were gone. If anyone’s taking that man down, it’s me.”

Jesper and Inej shared a look, but thankfully the conversation ended.

When they returned to Ketterdam, everything was wrong. Kaz felt it as soon as they stepped off the ship, but it only became clear when they saw the Crow Club renamed as the Kaelish Prince.

Somehow, Davina had failed and Kaz lost everything.

“We’re going to Davina.” Kaz said firmly.

[corpsebasil]

Practice Makes Perfect 18+

Nikolai’s fake girlfriend is nervous for their staged romance.

this ones ridiculous to me but I can totally see Nik being into public sex

“Okay, so,” Y/N said, having had knocked on the Prince’s door early in the evening. He was still dressing for dinner, and let her in as he worked his buttons together. “I have a weird question.”

He raised a brow.

The two of them had been ‘dating’ for the past few months. She was a Crow, a girl from Ketterdam that had become friends with him at almost the moment they’d met. And when he’d offered to give her a, in his words, “Big ass room and access to the library” she’d caved. He needed someone, someone he trusted, to pretend to be his girlfriend. At least until he’d managed to persuade his mother that no, he didn’t need to immediately get married, and no, he wasn’t going to flounce around with a bunch of princesses until one was likable enough to actually date.

And so he’d asked her to be a cover for him, and they’d both secretly had their own private flings with whomever they wished while under the guise of a couple.

But it was beginning to grate on her.

Everyone was expecting some sorts of physical affection; a Heartrender had even questioned, with obvious confusion, why the two of them had never been seen kissing in public. She’d congratulated the Crow on her modesty, claiming that she heard so many hearts racing a day it made her feel extremely lonely and single.

Y/N needed to sell it. Needed to if it kept her in this wonderful elegant place, far away from the slums of Ketterdam, where crime and Stadwatch still raged. And sure, she liked the prince. What wasn’t to like?

“Speak, Y/N.” He said, snapping her out of her momentary daze. “As much of a fan of mind reading that I am, I unfortunately lack this admirable quality.”

“We need to..” She trailed off a bit, swallowing. “I think we should kiss.”

He halted, blue eyes flashing to her own as he lifted his coat and slid it on.

“If you want to kiss me then sure but we might not leave this room—”

“Nikolai come on.” She sighed, stamping a foot lightly as he froze half a step away from her, already reaching for her waist. She, very valiantly, ignored the way her heart had began to race when he’d moved towards her with such little hesitation. “People are starting to wonder. We can’t just—not touch each other in public. We’re supposed to be in love.”

“We hold hands,” he offered, tilting his head to the side. She felt a twinge of frustration. “sometimes I even hug you.” His gaze turned mischievous, moving an inch forward again. “Should we make out in the hallway? Scandalous some guards?”

“Nik.” Y/N grabbed his coat, almost involuntarily. She wasn’t sure why she wanted him to agree so much. To stop joking and take the situation seriously. “It doesn’t have to be some elaborate show. You just need to—oh I don’t know—” she felt nervous, suddenly, wringing her hands together.

The corset she was wearing was way too tight. It’s like Ravkan women wanted her not to be able to breathe. Especially when her breathing hitched, eyes catching his own, when Nikolai reached out to touch her cheek, then ran a thumb down her smooth skin.

“If you want us to kiss for them,” he said, voice soft and startlingly serious. “then we can. But I feel like a practice run is in order.” He smirked, half-heartedly, as her chest rose and fell with nerves and…something else. Something she’d rather not identify. “That away you won’t be so uncomfortable when we do it in front of others.”

“Okay.” She said. “Kiss me then.”

Nikolai laughed, looping an arm around her waist, tugging her body closer to his. He was even more handsome up close, infuriatingly so, and damn her if a wild blush didn’t spread over her face as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“How romantic of you.” He scoffed, but leaned forward, kissing her cheek. She tensed entirely, and his dark chuckle made her face redden further. “Don’t worry. I like when women tell me what to do.”

“Idiot.” She forced a breathy laugh, and then lost all her air entirely when he kissed her. Not demanding, not harsh, just a sweet, gentle kiss. An exploratory one. And tentative, almost hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if she really wanted this or was only doing it for the public’s eye.

So he pulled back a fraction, glancing down at her, absorbing her heavy-lidded expression. And shit—his mouth went dry at that look, especially when her hands clutched him tighter, eyes darting from his mouth to his eyes and back.

“May I kiss you again?” He murmured, a breathless request, and she tipped her face up to his.

This time the kiss was rougher, him dragging her up against him. If they were going to sell it, if they were going to do this in public, he was going to make sure she enjoyed it. Knew that he would make it easy to bear. And—gods—she seemed to like it. But he forced himself to pull away, to ignore the thrumming of his heart, and separate back from her.

“The dinner,” he almost gasped, pointing at the door. She didn’t speak—just smiled a bit and whirled, speed-walking out the door.

And he watched her go, unsure of why he instantly wanted his mouth back against the Crow’s.

-

They’d kissed in public. Multiple times. Everyone was more than convinced, especially when they did in fact scandalize the guards, Nikolai pressing Y/N up against the wall in a rather popular hallway and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe.

They were at a dinner, now, a fancy occasion that celebrated their recent engagement. He’d convinced her, almost embarrassed, that to keep selling it they should advance their romance. And she, slightly clueless, had agreed, unaware that the prince had slightly more serious intentions than she thought.

“I want to leave.” Y/N whispered, side-eyeing Nikolai. “This corset is too tight.”

The prince only chuckled, nodding his head to the large amount of courtiers around. He ran his hand over her knee, brushing his thumb along the smooth material of her dress.

“We have to keep up appearances, love.” He murmured, giving her a coy smile. “I believe that was your idea.”

“Well I’m bored. I’m bored and it’s been forty minutes and I haven’t seen a single piece of chocolate in a five mile radius.”

“I’m sure I can entertain you.” He said, not looking at her, and ran his hand down her knee, to the hem of her gown. “If you would like.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” She mumbled, shifting a bit in her seat as his hand moved under the dress, moving up, up, up, the skin of her thigh. “Nik..”

“Just drink your wine and pretend nothing is occurring.” He said and, to her disbelief, began talking very casually to the person next you him.

Y/N sat in stunned silence as Nikolai’s fingers brushed her inner thigh, and she stiffened, reaching down to grip the side of her chair, when he ran his fingers over the center of her underwear.

“Nik.” She hissed, shooting him another look. He just smiled, ignoring her as his fingers moved a bit quicker. She tensed, trying keep her expression neutral as he moved.

“Y/N?” Her eyes snapped up to meet a courtier’s, the woman smiling politely at the fiancée of the prince. “It’s lovely to see you again. Howve you been holding up so far from Ketterdam?”

“It’s been—” she paused, swallowing. “fine.”

“Just fine?” The woman pressed. “Surely the Grand Palace is an upgrade from the slums?”

“Yes it’s very nice.” She said, cheeks beginning to warm. Her gaze, feeling someone watching her, slid to the Grisha across the table. The Heartrender’s eyebrows were raised and she quickly looked away. “Very nice. Thanks.”

And when Nikolai continued, when she had to grab his wrist and dig her nails in hard to keep a straight face, she was almost entirely certain she’d be having a confrontation with that Heartrender in the morning.

for my Nikolai girlies <3 I’m still here for you

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 5❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: You're getting closer, closer, closer and closer... and noticed. Word Count: 3,2k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 4 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 6 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Something funny?" his question pulls you out of the letter. You glance at him briefly, slowly fold the letter, and put it in your pocket, still smiling.

"Nothing special. Can we return to further discussion?" you ask as he sits down in front of you and places two glasses of kvass on the table.

You didn't talk about… that night. Or previous events. There was a consensual silence between you regarding those events. A silence that was anything but peaceful. It was more like before the storm. But you both chose to ignore it. You had more important things on your mind.

"There is no need. I've already told you. Tracker and some of our people are going to haunt the stag until we won't get the bones. End of discussion."

"But it's Christmas. Is this stag that important? You don't have to send after this poor animal almost 30 of our people." you try to convince him, but he only rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Y/N. I appreciate your opinion, but no one and nothing will change my mind. Not you, not Alina, not Zoya, not any women, do you understand?"

"Why didn't you mention Ivan or Fedyor, or any men?" you ask, crossing your arms, now as irritated as he was just a few seconds ago.

"Because they know too well to try to oppose me."

"Oppose you?" you huff, glaring at him defiantly. "With all due respect, you don't know what it's like when someone REALLY tries to oppose you. At least not in the last month." you see him take a breath to say something, but one look from him at you makes him change his mind and shake his head. He takes the glass and drinks it before deciding to answer you.

"Can we... can we just go back to read those reports and finally write the orders to units? Please." he asks. You sigh and take your pen in hand, continuing to write down on the paper, in a more logical way, notes containing some of your plans.

"If you insist." you mumble over the paper.

"No whining?" he asks in shock and you bite your lip to avoid saying something rude.

"No." you say, shaking your head and reaching for a glass of kvass.

"And you're not offended?"

"Since when do you care?" you snap at him, annoyed. Not only did he stupidly stick to his opinion, but he also made you look like an offensive brat.

"Y/N." he says it calmly, and you raise your gaze to him. He didn't seem like he was doing it maliciously, more like he was making sure everything was okay. Which only added to your irritation. You close your eyes and sigh before answering him.

"No. I'm not."

"Your tone of voice is telling me something entirely different." you narrow your eyes at him and he just shrugs his arms.

"Should I smile at you sweetly to make you sure about that?" you ask teasingly, and he nods, leaving you surprised.

"Yes, please." he says, wanting to see you smiling at him at all costs. He missed this view. You both had a lot on your minds lately, and dark circles under your eyes were starting to appear under your eyes as well as under his own. And he despised them terribly. He smiles, though, feeling a strange warmth dissipate in his chest as you giggle in amusement and give him a mischievous smile. "That's better." he mumbles, shifting his gaze to the papers.

He can't feel like this. He shouldn't want... you. Not after what he went through last time.

And after that night, where he almost gave in to his desires, he promised himself that you wouldn't be his second Luda. You'll end up better than her. He won't let anything happen to you because of him.

"You know... I got something for you." you say, snapping him from his thoughts.

"For me? On what occasion?" he asks, surprised, shifting in his chair. He dropped the papers on the desk and focused his attention on you as you nervously stroked the edges of the report, straightening the corners.

"When I was a child, we used to draw lots a few weeks before Christmas to choose a family member to give a gift to. You know, a small present before the big one. And since I spent half of December fighting for my life with a fever and swimming in frozen rivers, I didn't have time to give it to you earlier."

"Why did you..."

"We drew lots for whom we would buy a gift." you interrupt him before he has a chance to ask you a question. "Me, Fedyor, Alina, Mal, Zoya, even Ivan, and the rest. I had Mal, but since you decided to send him to hell knows where, I figured I might as well give you something."

"Whatever bribe you want to give me, tracker and others don't come back without a stag." he says, crossing his arms. You giggle softly at that.

"I'm fully aware, donkey."

"You're treading on thin ice." he says menacingly, but he can't help but tilt his lips upward slightly in kind of a small smile.

"It's good that you're close; maybe you'll save me again. Come on. Just open it. I promise, I didn't ask David to put any explosives in there." he rolls his eyes but takes the box from you that you left under his desk. He turns the small box over in his hand and shakes it gently, assessing the size and heaviness of the gift. "Are you really expecting a terrorist attack? From me?"

"You stabbed me with a letter opener."

"That was ages ago!" you shout, offended and blushing. "Besides, how was I supposed to know you'd just walk into the war room and stand behind me?!"

"Who normally throws a letter opener behind them?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. He slowly begins to unwrap the box.

"It was from my grandparents. You know how we get along. Besides, I've apologised to you a thousand times."

"And apparently my mental health has been damaged, and now I can't trust you around with any weapon or mistery presents." he teases; you whine at this, and he starts laughing. You smile at the sound and shake your head.

Suddenly, he stops laughing. He holds on to his breath as he carefully examines your gift. It's not a big thing. A simple, black pendant. What is more important is its content, which he stares at in amazement.

"I... I know you don't believe in any saints or stuff like that, but... I noticed that every time we're in the chapel for some kind of celebration, you stare at the stained glass window of Sankta Ursula of the Waves. I found it in some flea markets while we were searching for a stag. I immediately thought of you."

"I…" he has no idea what to say. He didn't know you were watching him so carefully. That you actually care. But now… you didn't even know what it meant to him. Especially since the pendant you gave him and the portrait of Sankt were an exact representation of his sister. Not like that terrible stained glass window. "Thank you." he whispers shakily, because it's all he can do.

You took away his words. More than once. He should get used to this. I want to get used to it. But he can't. He won't risk losing you for a few moments... a few moments that are a young boy's dream.

"Anytime. May I?"

He nods. You stand behind him and take the necklace from him. You roll up the collar of his kefta so you can fasten it around his neck.

Your fingers brush against the skin of his neck, and he has to bite his lip (almost to the point of bleeding) to keep from letting out any embarrassment moan at the small touch.

He despised himself. His mother would mock him so much for weakness and vulnerability like this... but all he could do was sit quietly and appreciate your every little touch.

"Do you like it?" you whisper softly, still standing behind him. Your hands on his arms burn him, despite the thick layers of clothes he's wearing.

"I love it." he answers faster than he can think. He knows you can feel his heart beating wildly. He feels himself turning even redder.

"I'm glad you like it, Aleksander."

He feels blood on his mouth as he bites his bottom lip, hearing you whisper in his ear his real name. He was alternately regretful and glad that you knew it. In moments like this... he wasn't sure which feeling prevailed. Suddenly, he realises that he is gripping the arm of the chair so tightly that his knuckles are white.

Where was the fucking control he had spent years practicing when he needed it most? Where are the walls he painstakingly built around his stupid heart?

One heartrender was enough for all his composure to go to hell. And the worst thing was that, deep in his heart, he wanted to lose himself in you.

He stands up from his chair and turns towards you, looking down at you, trying to intimidate you as his shadows dance around you. But you just came closer. He holds his breath and tries to take a step back, but realises there's no escape as he slams his hips against the desk.

"Y/N."

"Aleksander."

You exchange whispers between the two of you, staring deeply into each other's eyes.

The sudden outburst makes you both shiver. Aleksander automatically grabs your arm and pulls you behind him, covering you as he listens.

"Stay here." he whispers as he takes a step towards the window.

You grab his elbow tightly and stop him. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow questioningly. You shake your head, staring at him defiantly. He rolls his eyes and grabs your waist, tightening his grip as you both walk carefully towards the balcony.

You see smoke rising from the Durasts' workshop.

"Damn it, 5th time in this year." Aleksander curses under his breath, and he releases his grip on your waist.

"They're working on transportation through the fold, be gentle with them."

He sighs and rubs his hand over his eyes. The tiredness becomes clearer on his face as he realises that he's going to have a long night ahead of him.

"I'll try my best. Go to bed, milaya. One of us should be rested." before he knows what he's actually doing, he walks up to you and kisses your forehead.

You stand frozen, feeling his lips on your skin, your heart racing at his gesture more than from adrenaline at the sudden outburst. And then he walks away quickly, leaving you alone.

You can't help but smirk as you watch him disappear into the shadows.

Aleksander is pissed. Nor. He is furious. Mad. Not because of the outburst that happened last night, but because he found out that you were getting more and more letters.

And he managed to intercept one. It was from Mal fucking Ortsev. The tracker you so desperately wanted back at the palace for stupid Christmas.

Everything made sense. Every kind gesture you made this month. And now he was storming through the halls of the Little Palace, straight to the kitchen where the guards had told him you would be, holding an unopened letter from your lover in your hand. A lover who, he will make sure, will never see the gates of Os Alta again.

He storms into the kitchen, and you almost manage to cool his anger when he sees you in an apron, baking some cake. You were singing something under your breath, probably one of those annoying songs that were played in every corner of Ravka.

And he almost melted, fascinated by the sight of you so... calm. A strange fantasy played in his head. You and him together, cooking something for the damn Christmas, decorating the house. He never had a real Christmas. Baghra wasn't sentimental enough to celebrate it, and she taught him the same, but with you... he would do all those stupid things.

Seeing you in this homey atmosphere almost took him off his warpath. Almost.

Until he remembered the letter he was holding and imagined the tracker doing all those things with you. He slammed the door loudly and waited for your reaction.

You screamed, spilling some of the flour you were holding onto the floor. You looked at him, and you were ready to yell at him for scaring you when you saw the look on his face.

"What happened?" you ask, brushing your hair off your forehead and getting flour all over it in the process.

In any other circumstances, he would have laughed; he would have been completely enchanted by your state. But now he was seeing red, imagining every single love letter that you could have written to that damn tracker.

"All these gifts, sweet words—all of it was for your tracker, right? You don't know this boy, you don't know what he is like, and yet you try to undermine my authority and change my decision just for some orphan from Keramzin! What does he have, huh?! What has blinded you, MY SECOND-IN-COMMAND, that you so desperately want this rash fool, who only gets into trouble because of his own stupidity?! Is he really worth risking my wrath?!"

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"THIS!" he slams his hand with the letter on the table between you. He glares at you furiously as you look at him with an equally defiant attitude. You take the letter and look at it in disbelief and anger.

"Do you monitor my correspondence?!"

"I should have done this ages ago! At least you wouldn't make a fool of me! You can say goodbye to your lovely tacker; I'll make sure he never again sets his foot in Os Alta."

"SERIOUSLY?! Look at me carefully, because I'll only say this once: MAL AND I ARE NOT TOGETHER!"

"Of course." he laughs mockingly and is about to leave the kitchen. You run to him and grab his arm tightly, forcing the letter into his hands.

"Read it." you say it coldly and firmly as you control yourself enough not to scream at him in anger.

"What?" he asks dazedly at your command, looking between your furious eyes and the letter you're pushing into his hands with all your might.

"Do you want to blame me for something? Go right ahead. Read. Prove yourself right." he takes the letter from you.

Jealousy and rage were still present in him, as well as a hint of sadness and hurt. That's what it was. Proof that all of this, every kind gesture, smile, look, touch, kiss—well, not a real one—was intended to bring you closer to another man. A man whose insides he would feed to volcras.

"Here you go." he opens the letter and clears his throat dramatically as he begins to read. "Dear Y/N. Thank you for your help. Alina was overjoyed with her gift. I don't know how to thank you. I'd love to be there for her, but I'm glad that at least you can take care of my beloved while I look for some damn stag…" he falls silent while reading, looking for something more in the letter he has in his hands. He blushes with embarrassment, realising the mistake he has made.

"See?" you ask him and gently cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

"But... the other letters..." he whispers, confused.

"I exchanged them with my brother."

There is a long silence between you as he digests all the information and realises the mistake he has made. He turns even redder at the rashness of his actions. He, who boasted of his patience and the fact that he was never wrong. The slightest suspicion that your heart belonged to someone else was enough to make him want to spill some blood and commit murder. And not yours, but that damn tracker's.

"Oh... the youngest one I guess?" he asks, trying to camouflage his earlier behavior. Or at least forget about it for a moment and let his heart slow down to a normal rhythm. He already humiliated himself enough in front of you.

"Yes." you confirm, a stupid smile on your lips. He swallows, nervous.

"Umm... that's lovely."

"He asked me if I'm coming home for Christams." you tell him, and he holds his breath for a moment, looking at you in anticipation. You don't say anything further. So he clears his throat and prepares to ask the question.

"Are you?"

"No. I'm staying in the Little Palace this year." for some strange reason, these few words bring him more joy than anything else in his several hundred years of life.

"Taht's... that's good. That's good to hear." he nods, unable to look you in the eye. You lick your lips, shifting your gaze towards the kitchen for a moment.

"Do you want to join me?"

"I beg you pardon?" he asks, confused. You nodded towards the bowls and cake you were baking before he came in and… jumped to the wrong conclusions. "I haven't… I haven't cooked for a while." he admits shyly. And you smile fondly as you see him so… ordinary for the first time. Humanly.

"Well, it's the best time to do it again, don't you think?" you ask and are about to pull him towards the table and the ingredients you prepared to make a cake when you feel the urge to look up. And you see mistletoe.

He also looks up and freezes at what he sees. A shiver of excitement and anxiety runs through his body. It was late at night. No one in their right mind would come here. No one would interrupt you.

He unconsciously leans towards you. He slowly lifts his hand and brushes your hair away from your face, gently brushing the flour from your forehead with his thumb. You giggle softly.

You cup his cheeks with your hands, and Aleksander sees in slow motion how you pull him towards you. Your lips get closer... but instead of moving to his lips, you place a tender kiss on his cheek.

His beard tickles you a little, and he can't help but feel deprived and tricked when your warm lips are limited to just caressing his cheek. He almost growls, exasperated, when, as quickly as you cling to him, you pull away.

"Put an apron on. We don't want to have your black kefta covered in flour." you say and go back to the table. You smile evilly. He didn't deserve a kiss after his little act today, but next time...

You squeal as he grabs you from behind and dumps a bag of flour over your head.

"ALEKSANDER!" you shout, and he laughs loudly, not caring at all that anyone might have heard his name. He tries to get away from you when you throw eggs at him.

When you are laughing and throwing everything at each other, you don't notice that the kitchen door is slowly and silently closing. And someone's footsteps echo through the corridors of the Little Palace.