take-me-to-ny

[take-me-to-ny]

Omg this is the CUTEST THING I’VE READ!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love the dynamics of the whole thing!!!!!!!!!!!!! Would love to read Cassian pinning over Nesta and Azriel/fmc advising and listening and teasing him about the relationship because I can totally imagine the whole thing, Azriel adopting Nesta in the same way Cassian kinda adopted fmc in the family *.*

Snapshots of Time

Summary: your relationship with Azriel, as shown through your relationship with Cassian.

Author’s note: this is based on this incredible request. Honestly I could do this forever I’m OBSESSED with Cassian I need to be his best friend like now.

-

The hulking Illyrian general looked down at the woman in front of him, examining her outstretched hand. Azriel stood behind her, watching Cassian with curious eyes.

No one knew how this was going to go, what to expect. Azriel never brought girls home, let alone asking Cassian to meet one of them. The moment clear in his mind, as Azriel walked into the dining room to eat breakfast with Cassian.

The shadowsinger sat down, setting his morning coffee, eggs, and bacon in front of him. Cassian looked at him, nodding in greeting as he shoveled some cantaloupe into his mouth.

His brother spoke first, “are you doing anything after lunch?”

Cassian thought about his day, he had dinner plans, but nothing for the afternoon. He shakes his head no, his mouth still full of cantaloupe.

“Good,” his brother tells him, “I want you to meet someone.” Cassian stops chewing, surprised at this. “You want me to meet someone?” Is what he tried to say, but with the cantaloupe blocking his throat, it came out more like, “boo bant me bo beat bomeone?”

Despite the confusing question, Azriel knew what his brother meant and sighed. “Yes, I’ve been… seeing someone.”

His tone conveys he doesn’t want this conversation to continue, but Cassian will not let him get away without a few answers. “You’ve been seeing someone?”

“Yes,” Azriel states, “and she wants to meet you.”

Cassian finally swallows the hunk of cantaloupe, “so it’s a her?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows. Azriel swallows his bite of eggs, disdain coating his voice. “If you can’t handle it-“

Cassian cuts him off, “Oh, I can handle it, brother. I assure you.”

He looked again at the lady in front of him, a smile adorning her face, making her look so soft, so warm.

He can see why she has Azriel wrapped around her finger - she’s been in front of Cassian for all of thirty seconds, telling him her name and offering her hand to shake, and he already finds her incredibly endearing.

But he also wants to give both of them a hard time. As nice as she may look, this is serious for his brother. His brother, who has always felt so undeserving of love, bringing someone to meet his family.

Well, to just meet Cassian. Azriel figured slow introductions was the best way to go about this, and he started with Cassian. A decision Cassian can tell Azriel is starting to regret.

“Ah,” he takes your hand, giving you a bone crushing handshake. You take it like a champ, he notes, as he calls you by the wrong name. It’s close to your own name, but not exact.

You correct him, prompting him to call you a different, incorrect name. He looks at you expectantly, the eye contact you share telling Cassian that you know exactly what he’s doing. And you don’t back down.

“That’s right, Calliope.” You respond, “nice to meet you.” You smile at him, a sweet smile that he sees through.

Wonderful.

-

Azriel had asked Cassian if it would be okay if he brought you to training. It was something you seemed interested in and, Azriel admits to Cass, if things continue he’d prefer you to have some knowledge of defending yourself.

Cassian had seen you a time or two since your first introduction, the two of you continuing to use incorrect names for each other. He agreed to let you come, as long as he could help your training.

You showed up to training the next morning, a teasing smirk making it’s way to Cassian’s face as you approach.

“Behave,” Azriel warns his brother, as he approaches you. You smile as he gets closer, standing on your toes to kiss him quickly.

Cassian’s desire to tease you both falters for a second, wanting nothing more than to make a comment about the red finding its way up Az’s neck, heating his cheeks. The general goes to say something, stopping as he watches the way you look at his brother. Your eyes show such kindness, such warmth, even from yards away.

You walk up, greeting Cassian as you come up to him. “Good morning, Cassandra.” He chuckles, throwing an incorrect name back at you. “You ready to learn?”

You beam, “yeah! Hopefully you’re a good teacher - maybe I’ll surpass you and take your job.”

You start shadow boxing around him, pretending to hit him. Cassian laughs at you, as Azriel looks at you fondly, your back turned to him.

The two of them lead you through a variety of stretches, they teach you how to throw a punch, and where to strike an opponent for the most impact.

“Can I spar with you?” You ask Cassian, both of the males eyebrows shooting up at your request. “I’d ask Azriel, but I don’t want to ruin his pretty face,” you say, cupping his face in your hands.

Cassian grumbles as you two walk towards the clearing, “I’m pretty too…”

You laugh, as he turns to face you. “Okay, sunshine, let’s spar.”

You two circle each other, and Azriel watches from the sidelines in both amusement and to ensure you don’t get hurt. Cassian throws a lazy punch at you, which you block flawlessly, the shock etching his face. You throw a piss poor punch on purpose, wanting him to lower his guard. He blocks your punch easily, and you two continue in this half-assed dance for a few minutes, until you decide to go all out.

You fake a left jab, causing Cassian to move to defend his left side, leaving the right side of his face open for your fist to collide with.

The impact creates a bone breaking sound that doesn’t come from your fingers. Azriel sucks in a breath, running towards the two of you as Cassian falls to the ground.

He looks up at you, the blood dripping down his face. “Where’d you learn that, sunshine?” He laughs, spitting blood out in the ground.

“I have three older brothers,” you smile down at him. “They taught me how to throw a punch.”

You offer a hand, and he takes it, laughing as you help him up.

-

Cassian’s wings were flapping so hard, so fast. He was exhausted, the events of the day catching up to him. Determination to get to you was keeping him moving.

He vaguely knew where you lived, Azriel mentioning stopping by to see you after going to a bakery. He lands in front of the bakery, and does the only things he knows how to: he starts knocking on doors.

Various Velaris citizens open their doors, ready to be angry at whoever is pounding on their door in the dead of night, until they see the High Lord’s General, asking if anyone with your name or your description lives there or if they know you. Eventually he reaches a door where the woman inside tells him that you live a few doors down, with the green door and flowers on your doorstep.

He approaches the door, knocking until you open the door, only allowing a small sliver to see who is there. “Cassian?” You ask, opening the door wider. He can tell he woke you up, due to your messy hair and sapphire blue nightgown.

You wake up at the realization of Cassian being at your door, immediately asking him if Azriel’s okay. Cassian shakes his head, asking if you want to come see him. You ask how dire it is, and he says you have a moment to change into actual clothes. You find some sweatpants and a shirt Azriel had left at your place, and allow his brother to scoop you into his arms as you two fly towards the House of Wind.

The flight is silent, both of your anxieties practically palpable through the air. You two eventually land, Cassian leading you directly to Azriel’s chambers.

You had been a frequent visitor to Az’s room in the other residences, but you’d only been in the House of Wind once. You’re thankful for Cassian’s lead, following close behind him.

You wind through the halls until Cassian stops in front of a door, knocking softly. He waits a moment, then enters, no response from the other side. He opens the door and Rhys is present, turning to look at the both of you as you enter the room.

You take in Azriel’s form on the bed. He’s asleep, you hope, watching his chest, watching it rise and fall slowly. You match your breathing with his, the deep breaths calming you, the only way Azriel can soothe you right now.

“How- uh- how bad is it?” You ask, unable to look away from his form on the bed. You approach slowly, taking in the injuries as you get closer. You’re a few feet away and you can see the deep bruising on his face, his chest, his arms. You shutter, his knuckles covered in blood.

Rhys grabs your shoulders softly, “he’s going to be okay, sore, but okay. He was asking for you, though.”

You nod, Azriel’s request warming your heart a bit. He always came to you after missions to help bandage his wounds. You smile a bit at the fact that whatever the hell happened to him out there didn’t stop him from wanting to continue that tradition.

Cassian is the first to move, as he moves two chairs to sit next to Azriel’s bed. He gestures for you to sit in one of them, as he takes up residence in the other one.

Rhys rubs your shoulders softly as he asks, “do you want some tea? Water? Anything?”

You clear your throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Some tea would be nice, thanks.”

Azriel woke up feeling incredibly groggy and like he had fallen from a balcony. He heard laughing, and he kept his eyes closed to figure out what was happening near him.

The room smelled like his room, the sheets felt like his, and he almost snapped his eyes open at your laugh.

No, not just your laugh, but the loud boisterous laugh of Cassian and the soft amused laugh of Rhys.

The three of you were talking about him.

“The morning he told me he wanted us to meet, he was shaking like a wet dog,” Rhys said, amusement lacing his tone.

“No hr wasn’t,” you say, shock in your voice. “Oh, yes,” Rhys replies, shifting in his seat. “He’s never brought anyone home before, and he’s never talked about anyone before.”

Cassian snorts, “I almost caught him with someone a century ago. I swear I heard something, but when I came in poof they were gone.”

You laugh, the sound filling Azriel’s chest with warmth. “He had told me that you two wanted to meet me!”

Rhys laughs, “he told us you wanted to meet us!”

You all laugh, as Azriel stirs slightly. He opened his eyes to find Rhys in a chair on his right, with you and Cassian taking up two chairs on his left.

“Don’t listen to anything they say,” Azriel rasps, coughing from how dry his throat was. “They’re both liars.”

Azriel closed his eyes again, but he felt your hand wrap around his, and he could see your face in his mind. Your hand squeezed his, and despite the injuries, he couldn’t help the smile on his face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi Azzy,” Cassian responds, earning a groan from Azriel.

You want to touch his face, but you’re worried you’ll hurt him.

“Well, now that you’re awake, we’ll see ourselves out,” Rhysand told him, offering him a wink as his brothers get up and begin moving to the door.

“A woman’s love is the best medicine,” Cassian says.

“You assholes aren’t even going to see how I am? After staying all night?”

Cassian laughs, “oh, we didn’t stay here out of concern over you. We stayed to keep her company.”

-

Looking at where you and the general stood, you regretted the events leading you here. “I’m just saying he’d love this little black number.”

Cassian currently had an arm draped around a mannequin, wearing the least amount of fabric possible.

“Cassian,” you hiss, embarassment leaking out of you, “why are we here?”

“You asked for help for a gift - this is my help!” He says, gesturing broadly around the lingerie shop. You hiss at him, “this isn’t what I had in mind-“

A chipper voice cuts you off, “good morning! How are you two today?” You turn to find a pretty shopkeeper looking at you and Cassian, her eyes lingerinf on his biceps wrapped around the mannequin. You swear you see him flex a little.

Cassian looks at you with a shit-eating grin as he tells her, “great! I’m helping her find a gift for my brother.”

She looks between you two, confusion on her face. “Is it for him to wear? We have a men’s section-“

“No, no,” Cassian says,”I’ll come back another day to check out that section. We’re looking for something for her, preferably in black or blue.”

He smiles at the shop associate, and she blushes at his attention. He winks at her, as she turns around to find you some options.

“Cassian, I’d prefer it if you weren’t aware of my lingerie choices.”

He raises his hands up, “I can close my eyes if that’ll make you feel better.” He places his hands over his eyes, “just guide me around the store, please, so I don’t fondle any mannequins.”

-

“I know something you don’t know,” Cassian coos at you, swaggering into the room. You’re seated in the library, enjoying a nice book by the fire. At least, you were.

“Hi Cass,” you say, taking a sip of your wine. He plops down next to you, stretching his arm behind you on the couch. You almost recoil at his smell, clearly coming in straight from training or fighting or something.

“Ugh, Cass, can you shower before showing up? You have a smell.” You fake gag at him.

He waggles his eyebrows, “some call it a musk,” he replies, “and I know you like it when Azzie is all sweaty after training.”

You roll your eyes, moving a little away from him. “Yes, but he’s hot. It’s different.”

He gawks at you. “It’s not different!” He insists, “I’m hot!”

You sigh, accepting the turn in conversation. “Yes, but not when you smell like that.”

He waggles his eyebrows, “so you do think I’m hot?” You slap him across the chest. “Yes, you’re a very handsome boy. Now what did you know that I don’t?”

Cassian pauses, trying to remember why he came in here in the first place. Then he remembers, smiling at you. He leaned back, placing his hands together on his stomach.

“Ah, yes. I know something you don’t know.”

You huff, “yes Cassian, and I know plenty that you don’t know.”

“Yes but my knowledge is about a certain pretty shadowsinger.”

You eye him, his grin spanning his whole face. “What do you know?”

Cassian looks at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. “What’s it worth to you?”

You push him, “tell me.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me.”

“Value?”

You sigh, “I’ll set you up with my friend Varia.”

He lifts an eyebrow, “promise?”

“If your information is valuable enough.”

“Oh I can guarantee it.”

“Then we have a deal. What do you know?”

Cassian looks around the room, to ensure you’re truly alone, including the presence of any nosey shadows. Once he feels confident you’re truly alone, he tells you, “I saw him in a jewelry store today.”

You pause, “okay?”

“And your birthday isn’t for six months, solstice was two months ago, your anniversary is in 8 months, so…”

He motions his hands, hoping you’ll get what he’s insinuating.

“He’s preparing?” You ask. The general rolls his eyes. He grabs both of your arms, shaking you as he tells you, “he was looking at rings!”

You gasp, “no you did not! Did you see any? What did they look like? Do you think they’d fit my fingers?”

Cassian rolled his eyes, “well he wasn’t shopping at Jewelry for Giants”

You hit him in the chest with a pillow. “No, I didn’t see any of them, but he was there for quite a while. Pretty sure the shop assistant showed him everything he had in the store.”

You squeal, launching yourself onto Cassian in a hug. “This better be real, valid intel Cassian or I swear I’ll cut off your testicles and feed them to Bryaxis.”

He eventually leaves, having had enough of your squealing and questions about rings, opting for a glass of milk before bed. As he’s in the kitchen pouring a glass he hears from behind him, “Cassian I know you saw me.”

He flinches, but just barely, causing the shadowsinger to smile just a touch. “Saw you where?”

Azriel sighed, “stop playing dumb with me Cassian, you saw me at Winston’s Jewelry.”

Cassian’s surprised at Azriel’s forwardness, his lack of dancing around subjects a skill Cassian wishes he shared. “Yes, I did. So? I assumed you were buying a birthday gift.”

His brother doesn’t buy the fib. “You know exactly what I was looking for in that store.”

“Mm, jewelry?”

Azriel closes his eyes, counting to ten, to keep himself from leaping across the kitchen and stabbing his brother. He keeps his eyes closed as he says, “I bought a ring.”

“This is so sudden, brother, I mean how could I say yes when we haven’t even spent a night together?”

Azriel rubs the bridge of his nose, annoyance still there from the moment he saw Cassian watching him. “Not for you, for her.” He pauses and Cassian doesn’t try to fill it, waiting for Azriel to continue.

Azriel sighs, letting the truth fill the room. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Cassian cheers in delight, excitement coursing through him.

“How are you going to do it? A bunch of flowers everywhere? Oh, oh, put the ring on your cock and -“

Azriel balks at Cassian, the headache coming back. He goes to walk away, but stops. “Just - don’t tell her you saw me. Please?”

Cassian pales, but agrees, and watches his brother head towards his room. Once he hears the click of his door, he races across the house to the library, where you’re still seated.

“Don’t-“ he pants, “mention anything about rings.” He pants again, surprisingly winded. “I didn’t tell you anything.” He turns to walk away, but he hears you say, “okay?” before he walks out.

-

You were spreading olive oil across the grape tomatoes as you heard your door open. You didn’t hear movement as your husband walked into the kitchen, your back turned to him.

“You’re home early,” you say, stirring the gnocchi. “How was your day, sweets?”

“It was fine, darling,” you hear Cassian respond, followed by a chair dragging across your floor as he plops down, spreading his legs wide, taking up a considerable amount of space.

You turned around, expecting a different Illyrian in your kitchen, a quick retort on your tongue as you look down and see his shoes. “Cassian!” You scold, “I’ve told you to take off your muddy boots before you come in.”

You walk over to him, flicking him in the ear. He rubs it softly, muttering about something. “Sorry, dear,” he says, emphasizing the term of endearment, as he starts unlacing his shoes.

You begin walking back to continue your cooking. “I thought you were my husband,” you shout to him as he walks back through your living room, the door softly opening. “Well, I’m flattered sweetheart, I thought we could have had something special, too, but my rascal of a brother got you first.”

You roll your eyes at him, stirring your noodles, “We never would have worked out, Cass. We’re both too chipper, we need to share our happiness with the grumps of the world.”

Cassian snorted, opening your fridge to grab a beer, “no we wouldn’t have worked out because Azriel would have murdered me if I made a move.”

He opens his beer bottle with his teeth, chuckling.

You laugh, cutting up your cooked chicken to mix it back into the pasta. “Oh what could have been, Cass. The world wouldn’t have been able to handle us together.”

“I know I certainly couldn’t.”

You smile, feeling your husband ghost a kiss to your cheek. He wraps his arms around you, basking in your scent before he goes to get his own beer.

Cassian rolls his eyes, “you would have skulked for hundreds of years, brother.” Your eyebrows raise, “you think we would have been together for centuries?”

“Oh yeah,” Cassian nods, putting his beer down on the table. “If not out of love, out of spite.” He gives Azriel a little smirk, and Azriel slaps the back of his head.

“Why are you here, Cass, other than to flirt with my wife?” He asks, taking his usual seat at the table.

“Yeah, Cass, didn’t you have a date tonight?” You ask, placing the pan in the oven and setting a timer. Azriel stills at your question. His brother did have a date tonight, one that should have started two hours ago.

You both reach the same conclusion as you say, “oh, Cass,” turning around to look at him. “What happened?”

He shrugs, starting to rip the label off his bottle to occupy himself. “She just.. wasn’t right.” He sighs, a contemplative look overcoming his features. “I just want something real. Not a few nights, not a few months. Something real. Like you two.”

Cassian’s face reddens, his admission in the air. He’s about to apologize, but you wrap your arms around his head, placing your own on top of his.

“You deserve someone incredible, Cass. Someone that isn’t me.” He laughs, patting your arms. “I’m sorry she didn’t work out. But you’re free to stay for dinner tonight, if you want. I’m making pesto chicken gnocchi.”

Cassian sighs, deflating in your arms a bit, “I don’t want to impose-“

Azriel snorts, “yes you do. Go ahead, Cassian. Impose. We’re happy to let you.” Cassian smiles, a real, genuine smile. Most nights the loneliness doesn’t get to him, but this is a rare night for vulnerability, and as the three of you gather around the table, gossiping about the girl Rhys was under the mountain with and how she was now at the Moonstone Palace with Rhys, Cassian feels his friends help carry his burden.

[take-me-to-ny]

They’re so stupid I love them! What a lovely story 💛

Whatever You Want Part 2

Liam Mairi X Female Reader

Summary: You and Liam have a friends with benefits thing going. But will your fear or falling for him split you up?

Warning(s): Illusions to smut, minor angst, female reader, use of y/n, y/l/n

Liam laces up his boots, his icy gaze never leaving yours. “Would that be so bad?” He asks, striding towards you, his hands finding your waist. “Our friends seeing us together?” He runs his thumb across your lower lip. The gesture is soft and soothing. For a moment you want to lean into his touch. You pull your head back, slipping out of his grasp. “Yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as you can. Pulling on your boots you continue, “They already have the wrong idea about us, I don’t want to add fuel to that fire.” You shrug, trying desperately to keep your tone casual. Liam’s expression is unreadable. His face was like stone, cold and unyielding. “What idea would that be?” He quips, in a voice you’ve never heard from him. “That we’re…” you trail off, trying to find the right words. “Together.” You finish, lifting your chin so you can meet his gaze. “Right, because Gods forbid they think we’re together.” Liam replies, voice dripping with sarcasm. Liam grabs his flight jacket and heads towards the door. “You know what y/n? Whatever you want. This…” He gestures between the two of you. “Is done.” He opens the door. “Liam,” you begin but he cuts you off. “See you in class.” the door closes loudly behind him.

3 weeks later

A tingle runs up your spine as you and Rhiannon circle each other on the mat. That feeling is all too familiar and has been all-consuming for the past few weeks. Violet must have arrived. And with Violet comes… you spare a glance over your shoulder. Liam. Gravity takes you down to the mat as Rhi kicks your feet out from underneath you. You land on the mat with a hard thud, your breath stolen from your chest. Before you can give Liam another thought, Rhi is on top of you, flipping you over so that you lay on your stomach. Her knee finds your back as she puts you in a chokehold. “Fuck!” you curse and you attempt to break her hold. It’s no good and soon you slam your palm down three times to signal your tapping out. She releases you and you rise, swearing as you attempt to return your breath to normal. Riannon hands you a cup of water, which you take gratefully. “What’s with you today?” Rhi asks as she wipes the sweat from her brow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you give up that easily.” You roll your eyes and tuck the hair that's fallen out of your braid behind your ears. “Just got a lot on my mind.” you answer simply, not daring to glance in Liam’s direction. Rhi picks up on your apprehension and shifts her gaze to Liam. “Trouble in paradise?” she quirks a brow. Your eyes meet Liam’s. You hold each other’s gaze for a moment before Liam abruptly stands and crosses to the other side of the room. You bring your attention back to Rhiannon. “No trouble. No paradise.” you reply, shrugging. Violet approaches you and Rhi, a grimace on her face. “Want to tell me what that’s all about?” she gestures behind her, where Liam is sulking in the corner. Moving his gaze to anywhere that’s not you. “He’s been insufferable for weeks,” Violet continues, looking you in the eyes. “I don’t know why you’re asking me.” You reply, rolling your shoulders back, preparing for your next match. Violet shoots you a skeptical look. “What?” you ask, patience wearing thin. Rhi chuckles beside you. “Y/n, you and Liam are almost as bad as Violet and Riorson.” A shocked expression takes hold of you as you look between your two friends. “What?” you repeat, shifting your weight from foot to foot. A nervous habit of yours. “You and Liam,” Rhi begins looking at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You shake your head in a gesture to continue. “You obviously have feelings for each other.” Violet says as she glances over her shoulder at Liam. Your mind spins, trying to come up with a reply. “It’s not like that.” you default. Rhiannon levels you with a look that tells you she is so over your bullshit. “I-,” Before you can reply, the dark tone of Xaden interrupts you.

[take-me-to-ny]

he BETTER BECOME THE KING OF CLOWNS in the next chapter or else

You'll make Nikolai grovel, right, in nine long years? Like at least a teensy bit of grovelling? The clown prince of Ravka kinda needs to, as an apology,,,, and also in the wise words of inej ghafa 'i like it hen men beg' so can we have some of that. as a treat

SHSKDKSKANS CLOWN PRINCE OF RAVKA LOVE THAT

Don't worry babeyyyy our clown prince will absolutely grovel. Like.. That boy's gonna be screaming crying throwing up groveling I promise Nikolai will be DISTRAUGHT

[take-me-to-ny]

[take-me-to-ny]

AHHHHH YES!!!! I love a good reunion trope!! Maybe y/n gets closer with someone and she’s hurt and the other person is helping her but looks inappropiate or someone says something pretty bad and Nilokai, like the clown king in love he is, let’s out a “THAT IS MY WIFE”

And I love LOVE Schitts creek and gifs so I’m haply to bless your posts with some

Nine Long Years - Part 6/?

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

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5

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

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

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

Word Count: 10,020

……….

FIFTH YEAR

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

"Leaving so soon?" 

You turned and saw Mal with his arms crossed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you love him?" Mal questioned.

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

"And how would you feel without him?"

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

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

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

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

"You can't stop it, Oretsev."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair enough,” he said. “Thank you.”

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

It was happening again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t sleep either,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is all your fault!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perhaps.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in,” you called out.

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

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

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

“Nikolai was just leaving,” you muttered.

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

“I’ll go too,” Mal piped in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wrapped your arms around her. 

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

You glanced at him. “I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

He turned his eyes ahead. "We're…"

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

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

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

He shrugged in agreement.

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, you helped out quite a bit."

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

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

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

"And what kind of life is that?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. He loves you."

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

"He loves you, Rietveld," Mal repeated.

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

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

……….

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

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

"How was your trip?" She inquired.

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

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

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

"Why's that?" She chuckled.

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

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

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

"He did?"

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

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

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

"Odd how?" You asked.

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

You pursed your lips. "Oh. Right."

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

"Oh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah…" You said softly. "Odd."

……….

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

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

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

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

"Fine," was all you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, instead you broke it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What I’m trying to say is that I–"

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

"Vasily," Nikolai nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Vasily," Nikolai warned with a low voice.

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

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

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

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

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

"Some brother you pretend to be–"

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

"Yes," Vasily sneered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

FIFTH YEAR - KAZ

Kaz didn't know why he was in Lij. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like hell.

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

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

"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..........

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

Masterlist

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

[take-me-to-ny]

He better grovel like his life DEPENDS ON IT!!!! I SWEAR TO GOD!! On his knees, begging, with flowers, tears on his eyes and the whole thing!!!!!!!! And the mc better MAKE HIM WORK FOR IT!!!!

I really wished mc would just leave without saying anything to anyone or they get separated after the darkling’s attack and he’s losing his mind because he can’t protect her but she’s a badass so i wouldn’t be worries but once they reunite all goes to sh*t and lover boy LOSES IT. I NEED HIM TO FEEL HEARTBROKEN TOO!!!!!!

Ok that’s it. Overall: I’m still mad at Nikolai and CANNOT WAIT FOR MORE KAZ 💙

(y/n after Toyla asks her what her plans for the evening are)

Nine Long Years - Part 6/?

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

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5

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

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

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

Word Count: 10,020

……….

FIFTH YEAR

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

"Leaving so soon?" 

You turned and saw Mal with his arms crossed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you love him?" Mal questioned.

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

"And how would you feel without him?"

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

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

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

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

"You can't stop it, Oretsev."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair enough,” he said. “Thank you.”

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

It was happening again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t sleep either,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is all your fault!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perhaps.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in,” you called out.

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

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

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

“Nikolai was just leaving,” you muttered.

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

“I’ll go too,” Mal piped in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wrapped your arms around her. 

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

You glanced at him. “I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

He turned his eyes ahead. "We're…"

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

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

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

He shrugged in agreement.

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, you helped out quite a bit."

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

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

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

"And what kind of life is that?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. He loves you."

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

"He loves you, Rietveld," Mal repeated.

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

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

……….

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

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

"How was your trip?" She inquired.

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

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

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

"Why's that?" She chuckled.

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

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

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

"He did?"

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

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

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

"Odd how?" You asked.

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

You pursed your lips. "Oh. Right."

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

"Oh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah…" You said softly. "Odd."

……….

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

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

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

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

"Fine," was all you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, instead you broke it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What I’m trying to say is that I–"

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

"Vasily," Nikolai nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Vasily," Nikolai warned with a low voice.

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

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

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

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

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

"Some brother you pretend to be–"

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

"Yes," Vasily sneered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

FIFTH YEAR - KAZ

Kaz didn't know why he was in Lij. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like hell.

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

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

"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

..........

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

Masterlist

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

[take-me-to-ny]

Everything Nikolai did on the ship got RUINED WHEN HE WENT TO HER ROOM. HAS HE EVEN APOLOGISED FOR BETRAYING HER AND DESTROYING THEIR RELATIONSHIP?!!!!! HAS HE?!?!!!! And the last line is SO OUT OF PLACE - how many times does he need to be TOLD TO F*CK OFF? HOW MANY?!?!!!!

Anyway WHAT A JOURNEY MY FRIEND!!! I need a few hours to assimilate what has happened!!!!! Mal is quite likeable but BUT i would have left and taken him with me to teach both Nikolai and Alina a lesson…

And Kaz’ end part… YES BABY!!! WHAT A WONDERFUL SURPRISE 💛💛💙💙

(My face when Nikolai gives me the ick)

Nine Long Years - Part 6/?

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

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5

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

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

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

Word Count: 10,020

……….

FIFTH YEAR

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

"Leaving so soon?" 

You turned and saw Mal with his arms crossed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you love him?" Mal questioned.

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

"And how would you feel without him?"

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

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

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

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

"You can't stop it, Oretsev."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair enough,” he said. “Thank you.”

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

It was happening again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t sleep either,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is all your fault!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Perhaps.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come in,” you called out.

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

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

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

“Nikolai was just leaving,” you muttered.

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

“I’ll go too,” Mal piped in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wrapped your arms around her. 

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

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

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

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

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

……….

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

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

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

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

You glanced at him. “I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

He turned his eyes ahead. "We're…"

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

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

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

He shrugged in agreement.

……….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, you helped out quite a bit."

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

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

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

"And what kind of life is that?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes. He loves you."

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

"He loves you, Rietveld," Mal repeated.

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

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

……….

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

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

"How was your trip?" She inquired.

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

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

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

"Why's that?" She chuckled.

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

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

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

"He did?"

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

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

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

"Odd how?" You asked.

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

You pursed your lips. "Oh. Right."

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

"Oh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah…" You said softly. "Odd."

……….

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

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

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

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

"Fine," was all you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, instead you broke it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What I’m trying to say is that I–"

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

"Vasily," Nikolai nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Vasily," Nikolai warned with a low voice.

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

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

"You filthy mutt!" Vasily spat. "You nearly knocked all my teeth loose!"

You expected Nikolai to straighten out with a diplomatic apology, sarcastically citing a lapse in judgment or pretending his arm had spasmed. You expected him to act as prince, but at this moment he was privateer instead. He bent down beside his brother and grabbed him by the collar.

"If I ever hear you speak about her like that again, I will punch you so hard you bite off your own tongue," Nikolai threatened. "Am I understood, brother?"

"Some brother you pretend to be–"

Nikolai's grip tightened. "Am I understood?"

"Yes," Vasily sneered.

Nikolai let go of him and stood to his full height, dusting himself off. He was back to being a dignified prince. "Good."

Nikolai glanced at you then glanced down the path in the direction back to the Little Palace. You took the hint, and silently but with quick steps, the two of you walked along.

The image of Vasily in the dirt brought you joy, though you couldn't say the same for the way Nikolai threatened him. Nikolai's actions frustrated you to no end, making you frown as you walked. It wasn't his job to do that, to fight for you, but he was a fool who treated it like his duty.

Once the Little Palace was in sight, you spoke to him.

"I've dealt with worse than Vasily, I don't need you to defend me," you asserted.

He looked at you. "I know you don't, but I wanted to."

"You don't get to anymore," you said, "you have a fiance to defend instead now."

Nikolai scoffed. "He called you a whore, what else was I supposed to do?"

"Let it slip by. Defending me is not worth the wrath of your brother."

"Please, I've already earned his wrath just by existing." He smiled. "And besides, it was nice to give him a whack like that. He deserved it for what he said."

You wanted to agree with him that Vasily deserved a whack, but you held firm. It was hard to tell if you were just being contrary for the fun of it or if you meant it.

"You shouldn't let him get under your skin," you muttered. "Don't do that again, Nikolai."

He slowed and you slowed with him. Stopped in the shade from the Little Palace, he looked at you, his stare earnest.

"I could tell you I will only let myself lash out at him just this once, but I would be lying." You thought he might hold your hand, but as he reached for you he thought the better of it and clasped his hands behind his back. "I would be lying, because if he–or anyone else for that matter--speaks about you like that again, hitting him would be the least of what I'd do."

……….

FIFTH YEAR - KAZ

Kaz didn't know why he was in Lij. 

He hadn't been in his hometown since he moved away from it at nine years old. But he was walking the harbours of Ketterdam on his day off from the Crow Club and saw a boat travelling down the coast to the southern farmlands of Kerch. Next thing he knew, he was sailing away from Ketterdam. 

Then he was in his old, simple little world. Acres upon acres of farmland, a town square with market vendors and people who smiled at other people without trying to steal their wallets… it all seemed so foreign to him now. 

He went up the hill to his old farmhouse first. It had sat in disrepair for a few years now since his siblings moved to the city. The fields were wildly overgrown, but it still looked like a plot of good land. Kaz trudged through the weeds to the barn out back. It only took him four seconds to pick the lock on the barn door. The inside was empty, but it still looked alright.

He didn't dwell for long, though. He stood in the barn, shut his eyes for a moment, breathed in the farm air, thought briefly of his family--of how he missed them--then he left.

He relocked the barn, instinctively leaving it how it was found, then set out on another path down the hill.

Kaz passed by the well-kept house of Old Lady Trokowsky. How that Ravkan bat frightened him when he was younger. He had no idea how his sister managed to visit with her every other day just to read to her and keep her company. As Kaz recalled, her tongue was always so sharp, and she would shout at him and Jordie from the upper porch above her front door whenever they got into the slightest bit of mischief.

He wondered for a moment if she was still alive; in his memory, she seemed ancient, after all. 

A broken post on her otherwise perfect fence caught his eye, and he nudged it with his foot.

"Rietveld? Jordan Rietveld!" A worn voice called out as soon as his boot made contact with the post. 

Kaz's eyes snapped wide in surprise, and he instinctively straightened out at the memory of reprimands gone past. He looked up to the porch above her front door, and sure enough, sitting there by the railing was Old Lady Trokowsky. He would have smiled at the sight of a familiar face if he wasn't so frightened of her.

"Jordan Rietveld, what are you doing to my fence? And what are you doing back in Lij? Your family's supposed to be in Ketterdam!" 

Kaz blinked up at her. Did she really think he was his brother? That he was Jordie?

"Well, young man?" Her gravelly old voice called down to him again.

He felt like a child under her eyes. He was fourteen now, yet he felt like he was six and following along with whatever trouble Jordie was getting into.

Trokowsky waved an arm in a resigned manner. "Oh, come inside, boy. I've got hot chocolate and cookies that I'm too old to stomach now. Eat and talk with me, Jordan."

Kaz paused at the gate. He wanted to pass by and head back to the town, but he felt a strange desire to go into her house. The closest he'd gotten to the house was standing in the doorway with Jordie when Da would sometimes send them to fetch their sister home early; the inside of it was always a mystery to him.

He passed through the gate and went up the stone path. It felt like he'd get in trouble, but he opened the front door and peered into the front hall. A caretaker for the bat came down the stairs to greet him. She directed him up the stairs and straight to the front where Lady Trokowsky would be waiting on the upper porch. 

His eyes roamed the walls as he went upstairs. All these Ravkan portraits and plaques adorning her house--the burgeoning criminal in him told him he should swipe something, but he ignored the urge. His sister had always spoken highly of Trokowsky, despite how the bat would shout at him and Jordie, so he would respect his sister by respecting the bat's belongings.

He stepped onto the upper porch and noticed immediately that her eyes had a slight wispiness to them that no doubt impaired her vision. Cataracts, if that was the right term. This was likely why she didn't recognize him as Kaz but as his brother.

"Ah, Jordan Rietveld," she greeted in her worn voice, gesturing to the rocking chair beside hers. "It's been years, hasn't it?"

Kaz nodded and took a seat beside her. "Yes."

"How are you, boy? How is the city treating you?" 

Like hell.

That's what he wanted to say. He'd been chewed up at spit back out by Ketterdam. He was rising through the ranks of the Dregs, but not without a few scrapes and tussles. He'd grown to be a swindler and a scammer, though he supposed that information would be quite useless to this old lady.

"Very well," he lied, feeling compelled to smile for the bat. "I've just been promoted at work."

"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" 

She did something that was nearly a smile. Her wrinkly face tightened slightly with the weak force of her mouth muscles, stretching her lips in a kind position.

"And how is that young brother of yours? Is he still as much trouble as you?" She chuckled fondly.

"Kaz is dead," Kaz said bluntly. He almost didn't realize he said it at first, but then he noticed Trokowsky's face fall.

"Oh dear… I'm sorry to hear that. Your sister always spoke so highly of her baby brother," she said with a sad coo.

Kaz glanced away over the balcony. "Well, she's gone now too. Moved across the world."

"I suppose that explains why she stopped writing to me." Trokowsky sighed. "I thought she might have passed in that plague–what a terrible, terrible bout of firepox it was this last time…" 

If only she knew, Kaz mused, holding back a wry smile.

"Do you ever see her? I'd love for you to tell her I say hello and that I miss her company," she said softly.

He didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. "I see her every few months. She comes to visit me in Ketterdam, or I go visit her in Novyi Zem."

"Oh, good. I'm glad to hear that." She smiled again. "Your family has suffered enough without being separated by something so trivial as the sea."

It seemed as though Lady Trokowsky might have said more on the matter, but a sudden coughing fit wracked through her. Kaz's body recoiled from her wheezing. It brought back memories of plague. 

He balled his gloved hands into fists and he looked away from her as he waited for her coughing to end. She recovered from her fit, and he stayed long enough to finish his hot chocolate and eat three cookies while he listened to a couple of stories from the bat. But he didn't stay much longer than that. Trowkowsy grew tired, in need of an afternoon nap as the elderly sometimes need. She gave him a kind parting smile as her caretaker wheeled her to her room.

Kaz waited in the main foyer until the nurse came downstairs again. He procured a Crow Club card from his pocket and handed it to the caretaker.

"Please let me know when she passes," he nodded to the caretaker.

Then he left and went down to the town square again, heading for the municipal office. He tried to acquire his family's farm back from the township. He didn't quite have enough money to buy it back yet, but he knew he would put it under Jordie's name when he did. Or perhaps Jordie's middle name would lend itself better as the ink on a dotted line. Either way, he could not secure the deed today, so he found his way to a ship bound up the coast to Ketterdam, back to the city of thieves and barterers.

A few months later, Kaz received a short letter. Lady Trokowsky had died of her old age. 

At her funeral, the name card on the grandest bouquet of flowers gifted was simply: "The Rietvelds."

..........

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment on this new part--I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Taglist: I will reblog this part with the tags because there's too many of you to tag and tumblr won't let me do it all at once

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So I get this AND the rwrb movie in the SAME DAY?

Life literally CANNOT GET ANY BETTER

Tentatively finished part 6 of nly!!

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david my beloved

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Friends

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Yes, what would you like to ask.

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Nikolai in the upcoming chapters - I can feel his dumbness from miles away

OMG NEW STORY YAY!!! Super excited about this but still waiting for the new chapter of the other one haha - I’m loving the fact that could have technically be in the same class/cross paths at uni and he didn’t realise!!!!

Second Best - Part 1

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

A/N: Look, am I starting a new series when I haven't finished nly? Yes, I am. And I would proudly do it again because this story has been in my drafts for so long and I want yall to see it. Hope it's coherent enough :) also, I gave the mc reader a last name :)

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: strict and mean parents, very slight self-image issues because of said parents, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please)

Word Count: 1700

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It was going to be a very important day, your mother had said. She sat in the corner of the room as a gaggle of maids did you up. Everything needed to be perfect for your meeting with the new king of Ravka. After all, he was your fiance, but there were rumours that he did not wish to marry you.

The engagement was made when you were both children and he was only supposed to be a prince, but now circumstances had changed and he was king of a fractured nation. He would need to marry for the good of Ravka, so a political match would be much more beneficial. You wouldn't blame him if he chose to marry a foreign princess or noblewoman, but your parents insisted that you would be the future queen of Ravka.

"Stop fidgeting," your mother commanded. You straightened out, averting your stare as you mumbled an apology.

It was cold outside the front door of your parents' home in Os Alta. Goosebumps had broken out on your skin and you struggled to not rub some warmth into them. All you could do was wait for the king to arrive. He was more than ten minutes late, but your father had insisted that you all remain standing at the entrance until Nikolai arrived. 

As you heard carriage wheels in the street you swore you could leap with joy that you would soon be allowed inside again, but you stayed perfectly poised. The royal carriage swung around the corner and you felt your heartbeat pick up, kicking into double-time. You pitied any nearby heartrenders, for the thumping must have been utterly annoying; but you came about it honestly.

There was always a fear in the back of your mind that you would be found out. Someone would discover your family secret and you would be exiled from respectable society before you could marry your Lantsov fiance. But you couldn't worry about that now, not when the carriage had stopped and the king was getting out.

If you had been worried about the cold earlier, it was now the farthest thing from your mind. King Nikolai's stare was enough to make your face heat up, and you thought you might burst into flames without a moment's notice as you curtsied to him. He still looked a little like the boy in your faded memory of him, the boy that you met when you were twelve and he was fourteen. He had a boyish countenance, a light-hearted look to him as he stepped out of his carriage.

You were prepared for a bit more resemblance to his older brother, but he was comparatively more handsome than Vasily ever was. His smile was charming and warm, not greasy or snide as his brother's had been; he had a stronger chin than his brother, and really just a better bone structure in general. But perhaps the lack of similarity between him and his brother gave credence to the rumours of his lineage. You often wondered if people thought that way about the differences between you and your parents.

Whatever the case, you were too conscious of the way he didn't offer you his arm as the four of you entered the house to care about any of that. In Ravka it was common for engaged couples to do that sort of thing, even when they were practically strangers, so it seemed the whispers of his detachment from you had some truth.

You settled in the drawing room where tea was presented to the four of you. Mere minutes of small talk passed before your father broached the topic of the engagement. He set down his cup and saucer, leaning back in his seat as he stared at the king. Nikolai had just told an anecdote about the tiring details from his coronation several months ago and your father was ready to pounce.

"I suppose the wedding will be as much of a headache to plan, but this time you'll have my daughter to shoulder some of the weight," he said, a cheerful air to his voice despite the trap he just laid.

"Lord Antonov," Nikolai smiled politely, "I don't suppose you've heard any news from my father or mother."

Your father shook his head, a confused twitch in his brow.

"They were the ones to arrange this marriage, but, as it is, they are not around to see it through. They approved the match back when I was a boy and my father was still king." Here it was. The rumours were about to be verified. Nikolai kept on, "Things have changed since then; I am no longer a boy, and my father is no longer king, so you will forgive me if I would like to drop the agreement that my parents made you many years ago."

"Promises and plans were made, your highness, and they cannot be easily undone--"

"And yet they must be undone." Nikolai levelled your father with a heavy stare. "Ravka needs strong diplomatic ties, and I believe that one of the best options to achieve this is through marriage. I cannot sacrifice the good of this country for an old arrangement made by a party that is no longer in power."

"But what will my daughter do?" Your mother piped up. "She'll have to find a new suitor, but who would want her now that she gets older?"

As much as you would have liked to say that her words did not affect you, you couldn't deny their sting. To your parents, all that their daughter–their only child–had ever been was a bartering chip for well-born men to marry and continue their noble lines, and it showed in your mother's primary concern. If you weren't young, you weren't beautiful, and if you weren't beautiful, who would dare marry you? 

Nikolai nearly laughed. "She is twenty, that is not old. And if you're so concerned that she needs to be married, I will see to it that she finds someone suitable. I know enough barons and marquises who would be glad to marry her."

"For centuries we Antonovs have dedicated our lives--our entire estate--to this country and the Lantsovs, and this is how we are to be repaid?" Your father narrowed his stare. "Have you no honour? That you would go back on your word--some king you are."

If your mother's superficial worries weren't enough to make Nikolai rethink the marriage, insults from your father definitely wouldn't change his mind.

"Father," you gasped as a sorry attempt at admonishment. When you felt eyes on you, you couldn't help but speak, even if your parents wouldn't like what you were going to say. "You should consider the importance of his highness' role in Ravka. If our country needs a political marriage to strengthen diplomatic ties, then perhaps it is for the best that we sever the arrangement you made with the former king."

"My daughter doesn't know what she's saying, your highness," your mother tried to backtrack, but you weren't having it. You'd be in deep shit with them for that first comment, and you figured you should continue since they were already angry.

"If you two are as patriotic as you often say then you would understand that the good of your country comes first. If the king asks you to forgo an old agreement, you should forgo it."

"There you have it," Nikolai said. "The two most important voices in this conversation have spoken." He stood and looked at you. "I must be going now, but perhaps could you walk me out, my lady?"

You stood and set aside your tea, eager to be out of the room. In the hall, you caught Nikolai staring at you. He smiled, looking forward.

"You handled that well," he said.

"I should hope so." You glanced at him. "Like you, I was educated at Ketterdam University where most of my classmates were hog-headed boys who went on and on about the most insignificant topics. I found the best way to assert my voice in the classroom was through a light shaming of those who couldn't figure out when to shut up."

"Very effective," Nikolai remarked, his eyes alight. "What did you study at school?"

"Economics for the most part, but there was also advanced physics as well as debate classes."

"You must have made quite the student." There was approval in his voice.

You held back a proud grin. Men are frightened by smart women, your mother often said. She maintained that you must hold back your brains until after you had a ring on your finger, but because you weren't marrying him, you didn't see the need to hide your intellect. You straightened out and replied, "I was always top of my class."

When you reached the front door Nikolai fastened his jacket and turned to you with a conciliatory smile. "I hope I haven't bent your parents too out of shape."

"They'll get over themselves." But you weren't too certain of your words. You amended, "They'll have to."

"I meant what I told your mother," he said. "I can help you find a fiance. Though I'm sure you wouldn't have difficulty finding one on your own."

You chuckled. "Yes, undoubtedly my mother is already scheming to entrap the next richest bachelor in Ravka into a marriage."

"That's not what I meant." At your quizzical brow, he smiled and fixed the cuffs of his coat. "I only meant to say that you're highly intelligent and quite beautiful. Anyone would be lucky to marry you."

You dared to look away from his hazel eyes, tracing the gold frame of a portrait as you quickly dispelled the heat from your face. When you looked back he was trying to hide a smug smile that told you he knew exactly what game he was playing at. 

"You've scrapped our engagement, and yet now you're flirting with me," you observed with a tsk. "Are you always this contradictory?"

"When the mood strikes me," he said. "Now, it has been a pleasure but I must be getting back to the palace."

You parted ways with a handshake, Nikolai returning home and leaving you to face two very upset nobles.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist

Nikolai Taglist: @notoakay