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undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

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"Espionage" - Kaz Brekker x Reader

SUMMARY: Lord de Witt is throwing an exclusive banquet for socialites - just the perfect opportunity for Kaz to put his hands on whatever the aristocrat has in his safe. Fortunately, being an ambassador's daughter, you can easily smuggle him in but the two of you must pretend you're engaged to avoid suspicion.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3.7k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

If Jesper didn’t know Kaz, he’d think he was having a laugh.

“When you said you know someone, I was expecting everything but the daughter of an ambassador.” Then, in a slightly anxious manner, he turns to look at you apologetically. “No offence.”

There is something quite amusing in his uneasiness as though Jesper is expecting to be decapitated for as much as giving you a sour grimace. You’re probably the closest thing to nobility he’s ever been around.

“Worry not, sir,” you reassure him with a polite smile on your face, “I will try my best not to spoil your criminal quality.”

His eyebrows furrow and he leans towards Inej. “Did… did she just call me ‘sir’?” he asks quietly.

“Don’t get used to it,” she answers half-heartedly, busy pondering something else.

“How do you even know each other?” Jesper points between you and Kaz but the moment his index finger is directed towards you, he quickly puts his hand down. “I doubt you’ve been to the Barrel before.”

To any passerby, the sight of you and the Crows standing next to each other must look like a skit. With your expensive, light-coloured dress and back about as straight as a broomstick, you really do stand out like a sore thumb. Are those lowlifes bothering a proper lady or is she perhaps noble enough to offer them a few coins?

“That’s quite right. When my father was fraudulently accused of conspiring against the crown, mister Brekker,” out of pure habit you vaguely gesture towards him, “had been so kind as to solve this perplexing hoax. It is only fair that I agree to help him when he asks.”

Kaz checks his watch. Then, his expression suddenly becomes stern, focused, and you know exactly what it means.

“We should go,” he states. His eyes have a strange glint of both coldness and concealed worry to them. “There’s no backing out now.”

Your polite smile doesn’t falter. “I wasn’t considering such a thing.”

The dearth path around the lawn in front of the manor is blocked with countless carriages - horses of one freight have their nostrils pushed against the rolling stock of another cart. It seems as though Lord de Witt has invited half of the continent to his exclusive banquet. Half of them, one might assume, came out of courtesy or simply because of the other guests sure to attend.

Mixing into the crowd of rich men and aristocracy, choking on the powder and perfume, you tell Kaz the basics of banquets like this:

“Let me do the talking. You’re accompanying me, which among socialites makes you akin to a show horse. Of course, someone might ask you a question but it will be pure courtesy. They don’t actually care, because they don’t know you. Answer shortly and politely.”

“Will it not raise suspicion that the ambassador’s daughter is engaged to a no-one?”

“Not if he’s a First Army veteran, wounded on the front lines by a Fjerdan savage,” you say in a theatrical manner. His perpetual frown elicits a chuckle from you. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m sure you can sell it. Besides, if you seem grim enough, which shouldn’t be a problem honestly, the guests won’t dare ask any more questions.”

The porter nods knowingly in your direction. Despite his old age, he’s quick to recognize the little lady you once were. You offer him the invitation but he waves his hand in dismissal. His fingers tremble slightly, making you wonder in all of your melancholy whether he’d still be able to do all those small magic tricks he used to entertain you with.

Following the mob of guests, you end up in a spacious ballroom. Crystal chandeliers reflect candlelight, causing ethereal rainbows to dance across the frescoes painted on the ceiling. Some of the artwork presented landscapes, other battles and even Saints - all of them equally breathtaking. The hall is filled with a plethora of scents: vertigo-inducing perfume, imported fruits, freshly-cut flowers, braised meats. To Kaz, this is the smell of wealth but to you, the ballroom only smells of home.

Appearance-wise, Kaz falls a bit behind compared to the three-piece suits and cylinders but the difference is not stark enough for people to give him contemptuous glances. In all honesty, this will help you sell the yarn you’re spinning. After all, what veteran has enough money to buy a whole suit for just one evening?

“Come on, we should say our greetings to the host,” you say quietly while gently nudging his arm.

As though you are something of a Grisha yourself, the middle-aged man in question suddenly appears in front of you. His face has gained a few deep wrinkles since the last time you saw him but still, his prominent laughter lines are the first thing people notice about him. Considering what kind of person Lord de Witt is, it’s a reliable first impression - a rare occurrence among thieves and noblemen alike.

The man’s face beams with happiness when he recognizes you, his eyes nearly disappearing in a genuine smile. “Ah, принцесса!” he exclaims, opening his arms. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you.” Holding your hand, he meaningfully leans down but never presses a polite kiss against your skin. Instead, he curtly nods while maintaining eye contact, uneasy at the thought of such a gesture.

“I thank you for the kind words, Lord de Witt,” you answer. “It is a pleasure to be your guest.”

He furrows his eyebrows and dismissively waves his hand. “Nonsense, you’re not just an ordinary guest. Tell me, how’s your father? Is our ambassador in good health?”

“The weather is terrible on his knees, I’m afraid. Only laudanum and nettle curb his pain enough to let him work. If I may inquire as to where Lady de Witt is? I haven’t seen her among the guests.”

Lord’s face grows brighter once again but this time there’s a sense of longing in his tired, grey eyes. “My dear Betty left for Novyi Zem just a few days ago. Ever since Lady de Serre expressed interest in her antique collection, she’s been eager to go back.”

Kaz, so far unnoticed by the aristocrat, glances between you and the man. You’re exchanging mere greetings and courtesies, yet he’s learned quite a few interesting things in just those few sentences. Nobility, as it seems, will say everything and anything as long as they think they’re talking to an equal.

His inquisitive thoughts must have pushed some Saint’s hand because Lord de Witt suddenly turns his attention to him, although continues talking to you. “The dapper young man is your husband, I presume?”

“Not yet, unfortunately,” you say with a bashful giggle - very ladylike, even if forced. “Igor Dreesen,” you introduce him. Kaz shakes the Lord’s hand without ever giving away that he’s never heard that name before. “He has fought in the First Army, on the front lines.”

“You have my eternal gratitude, gentleman.” Lord de Witt has an iron grip on Kaz’s hand, holding it significantly longer than Brekker is comfortable with. “May we all have your bravery and loyalty. Please, enjoy the evening.”

Kaz waits for the Lord to be out of earshot before turning to you. “He seems to know you well.” Maybe you’re reading too much into it or maybe there is a hint of suspicion in his tone.

“When I was younger, I used to come here every week. Valeriya de Witt, Lord’s eldest daughter, taught me embroidery. I know this manor like my own home.”

“Then you surely know where the safe is.”

“It could be in his bedroom or in his office.”

Kaz cocks his head. “So you don’t actually know.”

“I’ve met quite a few noblemen and state officials, Kaz. The older the money, the less we’re careful. De Witt’s office is next door,” you motion your head to the side.

Strolling through the ballroom towards the office door, weaving your way between gold-threaded gowns and made-to-order suits, you can’t help but wonder about the master thief by your side or rather what the world looks like through his eyes. You can recall so many gossip exchanges where a group of complete strangers would discuss their wealth and business, believing that their secrets are safe among socialites similarly to unaffiliated thugs discussing their commissions over a pint of watered-down beer. In a thief’s world, you’re something of an encyclopedia on fast enrichment. Maybe telling a secret or two could be treacherous of you but in the grand scheme of things, you think it’s not nearly enough to cover your debt.

You lean towards Kaz, speaking in a low voice. “See that lady with a scandalously huge hat? That’s lady Maria de Bouvier, harbors so much contempt towards her stepmother, she’d probably be elevated if some of the jewelry was to disappear.”

Brekker spares you a questioning glance but doesn’t say anything.

“Or that retired soldier by the pillar? Next to the girl dressed in all-white?” you ask him. His keen eye quickly finds the dark green jacket with an obnoxious amount of medals attached. “Captain Geoffrey van der Greiss, earned most of his fortune from smuggling. Open any crate with fish at the Eastern harbors and the sides of the box will be filled with cash. Yours to take if you can bear the smell.”

Kaz suddenly steps in your way, stopping you. His usual frown appears more like a scowl now. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he spits out. “You’re so eager to point me towards easy wealth. It’s not just about returning a favor, is it?”

You look away for a moment - you should have expected that if someone was to notice your motive, it would be Kaz Brekker himself. His face is still contorted into an expression of contempt or anger when your stare returns to him.

“Have you ever, even for a single second, considered what would have happened to me had my father been found guilty?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“I can’t say I have.”

“I often do. He would have been locked up in Hellgate or simply killed. The family fortune would dwindle rather quickly as my mother and I would live off of it. Then one day the money would run out, we’d have to sell our house and live modestly if not on the streets. No one would employ us because of the scandal and soon we’d find our place in a brothel. All of that did not happen because of you, Kaz.” His expression visibly softens, even if he’s doing his best not to show it. “I owe you my life.”

“I don’t want it.”

Without waiting for you to continue, he resumes walking towards the office door. Although off-limits to the guests, the manor staff is simply too busy to pay attention to anything else other than restocking drinks and food. On the other hand, the guards employed by Lord de Witt are so convinced drunk aristocracy doesn’t need nannies that they’re playing cards in some dark, isolated corner and drawing lots when someone has to go swipe some alcohol and lamb from the kitchen. Perhaps they are paid to complete much different tasks but if someone is familiar with de Witt’s banquets, they wouldn’t be exactly surprised - a scandal is yet to happen inside his manor.

You meet Kaz’s gaze but immediately regret it. There’s something both chilling with determination and burning hot with focus, making you feel rather flustered at the intensity of it all.

“Make sure no one comes in here,” he says quickly before swiftly crossing the remaining meters and sliding inside the room. For a man with a limp, he’s exceptionally agile.

Minutes go by while Kaz is absent and you begin to worry. What if someone caught him? Or if he got injured somehow? He may be something of an atelier of theft but he’s still a man, after all.

Debating whether to go after Kaz or trust his expertise, you don’t notice a young man approaching you:

“Excuse me, my lady, but you are the ambassador’s daughter, are you not?”

Torn out of your spiraling thoughts, you look up at him with wide eyes. He has a kind face with strong features. His tanned skin is in contrast with his creme-coloured suit, creating a quite enticing sight. Warm, brown eyes study you with interest.

“I am, master…” you make a meaningful pause.

The man immediately picks up on your cue. “Tolkov Ilya Romanovich. My father is the legat of Ketterdam’s Merchants’ Guild.” Contrary to Lord de Witt, Ilya doesn’t hesitate to plant a kiss on the back of your hand.

“Oh, I have heard about you. Horse racing enthusiast, is it not?”

He gives you a flustered chuckle. “My vices precede me, I see. As does your beauty, if I may say so.”

You feel your cheeks warm up. There’s something about Western men’s charm that really gnaws at a lady’s heart. “That’s very kind, master Tolkov.”

“Lord de Witt spoke of you with exceptional fondness. I thought it only appropriate to witness your marvel myself.”

At the same time, Kaz is slipping back through the office door into the ballroom. Judging by the lack of interest he attracts, none of the guests even noticed his disappearance. He is making his way back to you, when he catches the sight of a rather dignified man politely kissing your hand. Although you don’t look swept off your feet, there’s nothing akin to discomfort on your face either. Kaz feels sudden uneasiness in his chest like he’s watching something he shouldn’t be, while being unable to place his gaze elsewhere. He doesn’t even know his face has turned into a grimace of distaste.

“You’re finally back, my love!” you dramatically exclaim when Kaz reaches you and the stranger. His expression is rid of anything pleasant but you decide to play along for now. “Master Tolkov, this is my fiance, Igor Dreesen. Darling, this is the son of the legat of the Merchants’ Guild, Ilya Romanovich.”

Legat of the Merchants’ Guild? Finally someone worth knowing of.

Kaz shakes Ilya’s hand but that marks the extent of his politeness. “I do not take kindly to anyone descending on my lady,” he says in a stern voice.

“But of course, sir.” Tolkov nods curtly. Annoyed or not, he’s proficient at keeping his face blandly kind. “My sincere apologies.”

Ilya gently bows his head towards you before leaving the two of you alone. Your gaze follows him until the man disappears among coiffures and cylinders. Then, you look at Kaz with hardly hidden amusement:

“You play your part better than I was expecting.”

Kaz, however, completely ignores your comment. “The safe isn't here. It must be in the bedroom. Where is it?”

“Upper floor. There’s the grand staircase in the vestibule but we can take the kitchen stairs, there won't be many people in that part of the mansion.”

The presence of ground floor guards is revealed only by loud laughter from behind the door leading to the staff rooms. All of the guests could just leave at once and none of them would notice. Still, you’re exceptionally careful when sneaking between the tables that are bending under the weight of food - even a small misstep, nudging one of the silver platters, could cause a cacophony loud enough that someone might hear it, even if not the guards in question.

You’re leaning against the wall when walking up the spiral stairs. Cocking your head to the side, you’re trying to look into the hall on the first floor but there’s not much you can actually see. As it appears, theft takes a lot more faith than you had previously thought.

The upper floor guards are out of sight but you don’t let yourself give in to the sudden feel of relief - this is only the first step into this little big scheme. There’s still a safe to find and an exit to make.

There’s a long, red carpet covering most of the floor. Although it muffles Kaz’s cane, it also makes the steps of the guards hardly audible. If you do see one, you’ll have to rely on quick thinking and a certain level of stupidity accredited to aristocracy.

Left turn. Pair of doors. Two right turns. Another left and another right. And then - footsteps.

“Someone’s coming,” Kaz whispers. His keen eyes are scanning the long corridor to find anything remotely close to a hiding spot. Decorative cabinets could well work but only if the unwanted passerby doesn’t walk past them.

The idea, a true testimony of quick thinking and aristocratic carelessness, hits you like a bolt out of the blue:

“Push me against the wall,” you order him.

His head snaps towards you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen. “What?” he stutters out.

“No one likes clingy couples.”

There isn’t any time to discuss and ponder as the footsteps grow louder. Visibly displeased, he puts his arm against the wall next to your head. At first you’re wondering just how enraged your father would be had he heard about this but then you smell Brekker’s cologne and suddenly one nervousness is changed for another, a more bashful one.

The footsteps, as one might expect, belong to a lonely guard patrolling the manor. His face is grim even before he notices the misplaced lovers. When his eyes do glance at you and Kaz, the soldier’s cheeks visibly raise and the frown quickly becomes more of an expression of disgust. Passing by the two of you, he grunts in distaste or irritation and continues walking farther down the corridor.

Kaz, to your surprising displeasure, wastes no time in putting more space between the two of you when the guard is out of sight. No words are exchanged like a collective agreement to pretend this little embarrassment had never taken place. But, it can’t really hurt him if he doesn’t know you’re thinking about it, can it?

With a confident push, you open the ivory-coloured door, their golden decorations glistening in dim lighting.

Lord de Witt’s bedroom is strangely dark compared to the rest of the house. At first glance, there is nothing that stands out as a possible hiding spot for a safe: a bed that could easily fit five people, a vanity with boxes of jewelry and cosmetics, a small desk with private correspondence, a cold fireplace, a folding screen. The artisan taxidermy hanging on the walls only adds a touch of grim macabre.

But a master thief is not so easily dissuaded. You watch Kaz in a slight confusion and interest as he walks through the room, gently knocking against solid wood or carefully. brushing his hand along some surfaces. More than once he tapped different parts of the floor with his cane, only to let out a short sigh as if the strange rite gave him some kind of information but not necessarily the one he was hoping for.

Then, as though he had known all along or played a secret magic trick, he pulls the base of a taxidermied boar’s head. The decoration, for a lack of better word, moves on hinges, revealing a strongbox - one of those that will survive explosives as the manufacturer promises. The safe has a dial and a handle, rendering any kind of traditional lockpicking useless. But Kaz Brekker, as you’re about to witness, is not much of a traditional thief either:

He puts his ear against the iron box, turning the dial a few times in one direction and the other. Then, he lays his other hand on the safe’s door, his whole body leaning against it. Kaz begins slowly turning the dial in one direction. A silence falls between the two of you.

You can’t be sure whether the tension you’re feeling is because of the hallway perplexity or because he’s so determined to open this strongbox but either way, you’re completely uncomfortable with that. “To be honest, I used to be intimidated by you,” you throw at him in hopes of some kind of conversation, no matter how pointless.

“What changed?” he asks in an absent voice. His hand stops turning the dial only to start rotating it in the opposite direction - whatever he’s doing, it seems to be working.

“You have turned out to make a rather lovely spouse.”

A loud click resounds in the room and Kaz immediately pushes down on the handle, opening the strongbox. He reaches inside, pulls out some documents and quickly reads through them. Some he puts back, others he stuffs between his waistcoat and shirt.

“Such nimble fingers you have. I know a market for that,” you joke partially expecting the thief to say something sultry enough to get you to be quiet for the rest of the night.

He spares you a glance and goes back to rummaging through the contents of the safe. In an unexpected act of goodwill, he takes only some of the cash. “Are you trying to flirt with me?”

“Even a lady of my sort has her weaknesses.”

You wait for his answer but Kaz doesn’t as much as look over his shoulder at you as though he hasn’t even heard your words. Although awkwardly, you patiently wait for him to be finished with whatever selective theft he’s committing. That tense silence again.

After a longer while, he closes the safe and locks it again. When he turns around to face you, something glistens between his fingers - a string of pinkish pearls. They flow along the shape of his hand as he offers you the necklace.

A quiet sigh escapes your lips. “I don’t want a payback, Kaz,” you shake your head to accentuate the refusal. “You have helped my family tremendously, this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand, “is the least I could do for you.”

“This isn’t payment,” he states.

Your eyebrows furrow. “Whatever do you mean?”

His intense gaze bores into you for a minute or two before he slowly answers. “It’s a bastard’s inclination.”

With a flustered ‘oh’, you take the string of pearls from him, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks. Still feeling his passionate gaze gliding along your face, you’re a little too abashed to meet his eye. Who would have thought - a thief with a heart!

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bookishdream · 1 year

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Blackmail

Kaz Brekker x fem!Reader Summary: Reader gets kidnapped by the Crows Word Count: 3k CW: swearing, abusive parent, blood

She used to live her best life; a daughter of a council’s member, an heir to the ground so big she couldn’t even begin to comprehend its vastness. However, when she finally came to the age where she was to come into own money and ground, she was kidnapped. By one of the gangs violating the streets of Ketterdam, nonetheless.

“Who, the fuck, do you think you are?” she pulled on the ropes binding her wrists. The room was so dark that she wasn’t able to see a person standing by the wall opposite of her. When she’d been dragged through the part of the city she hadn’t ever visited, she’d been hearing two voices behind her, one female and one male, bickering back and forth about trivial matters. Yet, when the bag had been removed, she took notice of another girl, sitting on a window sill, her legs loosely dangling over the edge, her face didn’t convey any feelings, only cold indifference. She also noticed two men, one looked as if he was Fjerdan with his blonde hair and strong face features, whereas the other had brown skin and a little smirk was pulling at his lips. He looked like he was having the time of his life. She counted four of her captors, but she quickly realized who had taken her. She sighed and when she felt her wrist start bleeding, she stopped trying to get free.

“Well, well, aren’t you a little feisty?” the pale-skinned girl teased, her brown hair fell loosely on her back, and she was leaning against the brick wall of the warehouse. “I told you she wouldn’t be willing to cooperate.”

“Tell me one person who would be, if they were tied up and kept against their will,” y/n spat, sweat coating her forehead. She was trying to come up with a plan that would let her run, but not when all of their attention was on her.

The girl rolled her eyes, “But for Kaz’s being late, you need to be patient, yes sweetheart? You will hear a reason soon,”

“It’s ridiculous,”

“Tell me about it,” the brown-skinned boy remarked, when he came closer to her, and the light from the street fell onto him, y/n noticed his belt with two revolvers, they shone. She swallowed a big lump of saliva, her anxiety spiking. “It’s never fun, when we kidnap someone,”

“So you’re telling me it’s not the first time?”

“Love, we’re professionals, of course it’s not our first time,” the boy smirked into her direction, making her frown. What did they want from her?

Suddenly, she heard a rather loud clicking of something. The warehouse must’ve been empty, since the echo of the sound matched the loudness of her own heart beating in her chest. She cursed when she realized what Kaz the girl meant. Her father would warn her about the nightmare of Ketterdam, a boy who had deceived her father more than once, and the boy who was a top priority to her father. Since Brekker had robbed him for the first time, messing with his books, her father wanted nothing more than to catch him. He’d never accomplished that. Obviously.

“You have her? Good,” his hoarse voice matched his looks. He had a sharp jawline and his brown eyes were set on the chair she was sitting on. “I hope you’ve heard of me, it will be easier to make an introduction. I’m sure your father has told you plenty of me.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, lifting her head so as to look at Kaz, who had taken a step closer to her. “Careful, because your hat might not have more room for that ego of yours,” she heard a surprised gasp of someone from behind Brekker.

“She came for his hat,” the boy who had talked to her earlier whispered.

“I heard that, Jesper,” the other girl, who was sitting at the windowsill answered.

Kaz didn’t look like her words made any impression on him, he simply leaned on his cane further, looking y/n into her eyes. She held his stare.

“What do you want, Brekker?” she asked, her voice still.

“We need a Squaller for our job,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Then go and find yourself one, I don’t see how this concerns me,” she still tried to keep her face as impassive as she could.

“Oh, I think you know exactly how this concerns you,” Brekker smirked. “You and your mother are clever, I need to give this to you, but nothing goes past my Wraith. Your little travels to the countryside, your mom’s forged papers. I know everything,” he emphasized the last word, his unsaid threat making her shiver.

“And what would you possibly need from an untrained Squaller?” she asked, “Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“You are a descendant from a powerful line of Grisha, y/n. With a little more training, you could control clouds and weather, am I right?”

She kept silent, weighing Kaz’s words. She was fucked, no matter what path would she choose. Working with him and his gang came with a strong possibility of her father finding out and his wrath. However, not working for him and letting him go the stadwatch with the intel he had would put into jeopardy not only her, but her mother as well.

“I don’t know if I could control the weather,” she finally whispered, giving up. She could hear breaths of relief from the others. “I haven’t really tried doing more than controlling and bending the wind.”

“Well,” Kaz smirked, his cane clicking as he was walking toward the exit. “You’d better be a fast learner,” his final words echoed in her mind.

Few days later, she still couldn’t get rid of Kaz’s words. The littlest sound startled her and she’d lost her appetite. She was in the library, when one of the servants came to her with a little note. The boy left the piece of paper on the table she was sitting at, and left.. She took the note, the paper was cream-white and the scribble looked as if it had been written in a hurry. The location that had been written told her nothing. She wasn’t familiar with other districts in Ketterdam. She sighed and got up to take a map. She had an hour to find the place and get there.

After finally finding out that the location of the meeting was outside the city, she cursed at Kaz for leaving her such a short time to arrive there. She quickly changed for her outdoor clothes and left.

When y/n eventually showed up, she saw that everyone was already there and she noticed a new face. He looked very young, his head full of red curls and a face full of freckles. He smiled kindly at her.

“You’re late,” Brekker commented.

“And you’re unbearable, yet I don’t go around stating the obvious,” she remarked, her hair being lifted by the wind. “Of course I’m late, I live on the other side of Ketterdam,”

Kaz wanted to answer her, but when he opened his mouth, the white-skinned girl interrupted him and clasped her hands.

“I think we should begin,” she came closer to y/n, her hand outstretched, “My name is Nina, the one with the guns is Jesper, the one with the best arms is Matthias,” Nina winked at him, making the Fjerdan’s cheeks tint pink. “The redhead is Wylan and Inej is probably somewhere on the roof.” At the girl's last words y/n turned around and tilted her head up in order to see the Wraith somewhere.

“Are you a Grisha?” y/n asked, letting Nina lead the way towards the area that was more vacant. They were on the field, only buildings that were in the close vicinity were factories or empty warehouses.

“I am a Heartrender,” Nina replied, motioning for y/n to stay in her place. Then Nina took a few steps back and stretched out her arms. “Show me what you’ve got.”

The weather was mostly sunny, with some clouds floating on the sky. It wasn’t very windy, but it was enough for y/n to work with. First she bent the wind into a small whirlwind at Nina’s feet. Then she made it a bit bigger, but still safe. She could feel her face getting some color on it. Her mom had said that she had been looking like a ghost for the past few days. At last, y/n gathered more of the air and she made a show of disheveling Nina’s hair, blowing wind under Jesper’s coat and, her personal favorite, she flew off Kaz’s hat. She heard Jesper and Nina’s silent laugh, however Kaz was looking at her with an indifferent expression.

“How long until she can control the storm?” he questioned, his moves smooth as he used his cane to lift the fallen hat. He put it back on his head and shifted his way back onto the stick.

“A week, tops, she has a huge potential,” Nina answered, her eyes glimmering with excitement.

Y/n rolled her eyes, she could feel the troubles she was going to be in, were their little scheme be found out.

It took much more than Nina assessed. Only after two and a half weeks was y/n ready to call a small lighting. It wasn’t big, hell, it couldn’t even hurt anyone, but it was something. And she was proud of it. Nina happened to be a good teacher, partially because she herself had been studying in the Little Palace once.

“Good job, y/n!” She exclaimed, the wind created by the Squaller carrying her voice. “Now call for something bigger,”

“Nina, you know I can’t,” she breathed, her heart beating so fast and loud that she couldn’t differentiate if the last thud was her heart of the strike of lightning she did.

“One last time, you have so much undiscovered power! Imagine what you could do once you finally grasp it!.”

Y/n breathed a pant, her forehead and the nape of her neck was covered in sweat. She could feel her eyes burning from it, even though she had been using the wind to cool her down. She called for the clouds above her head once more time, gathering the electricity sizzling in them. She pressed her palms together and focused on the tree standing mere meters from the pair. Then, y/n let out a small gasp and shot out her palm into this direction. Neither of Grisha expected what would happen next. Y/n didn’t think her powers could be so grand. The alone tree that was standing in the distance was now on fire and both of the girl’s eyes widened in shock.

“Shit,” Y/n mumbled, she rushed to somehow pull out the air and put out the fire. It cost her even more energy than creating the lighting. Fortunately, the fire was extinguished and only dark strokes of smoke were coming into the air.

“That was amazing!” Nina giggled, her face brightening in the smile. “Let’s go eat something.”

Y/n let Nina lead the way to the Crow Club, where hopefully they would serve her some food. She was starving. She had never used her powers so much that she felt famished. When the two girls finally arrived at the Club, y/n noticed how much commotion there was. People were everywhere, occupying the poker tables, playing black jack or sitting at the bar. She couldn’t glimpse much more, because Nina was pulling her to the staircase. Upon arriving on the first floor, where there was a room big enough to accommodate seven people she saw a couch and, with a long sigh, sat on it.

“Any progress?” Kaz asked, while making his way into the room and then towards the desk that was facing the couch and two armchairs. Y/n looked at him and rolled her eyes, refusing to answer his question before putting food into her mouth. She first smelt then saw waffles, her head shot in the direction of the door that was being opened and closed by Nina and Jesper on her hills. Y/n smiled when the Heartrender handed her the plate with hot food and started eating it like she had never seen food in her life.

“Someone would think that your father is starving you,” Brekker remarked, his voice hollow.

“Someday, I will put this cane straight into your-’” she was interrupted by Jesper putting a waffle into her open mouth, shutting her up. She rolled her eyes again, but didn’t say anything more. She was focused on eating her lunch, zoning out when Nina informed Kaz what her teachings brought.

After the afternoon and a part of the evening spent with the Crows, y/n got up and made her way home. She could glimpse Inej a few times, while walking down Ketterdam’s streets. She knew that the Suli was just making sure that y/n wouldn’t spill the secret, but it made her feel better that she had company, nonetheless.

When she eventually came home, she was met with silence. Lamps were lit up, however she couldn’t hear any talking. She silently creeped over to the living room and she saw her father sitting in the armchair, looking into the fire.

“My dearest daughter,” the man started, placing his cold gaze upon her. Y/n knew he somehow had learnt what she had been doing for the past weeks. She swallowed, but kept her face straight. “Do you want to explain why people saw you with those brutes?” He got up and made his way towards her.

His breath reeked of alcohol, but he still came close enough to grab her chin and tilt it so she could see straight into his eyes. She tried to explain herself, but her father lifted his fist and punched her. She was blinded by pain, she could feel hot blood coming from her nose to her mouth. She couldn’t brace herself for another hit, this time his fist connected with her stomach. Y/n doubled over, breathing hard. Her father used this as an advantage and struck another hit to her face and the girl fell to her knees.

“Get up, you pathetic girl,” he crouched and his face was at the same level as hers. She spat at him, saliva mixed with blood. Her father made a disgusting noise and wiped his face off with the sleeve of his shirt. He roughly took her arm and lifted her up. He swung once again, but his blow never met y/n. She used her desperation and power and hauled her father straight into the window that was behind him. There was a lot of shattered glass and she could glimpse a bit of blood on the pieces that stayed in the window. Y/n didn’t think longer, she made her way towards the door, stumbling.

She didn’t know if Inej was still somewhere on the rooftops, but still y/n ran into the direction of the Crow Club. Her feet heavy and her face swollen, but she kept running until she saw the familiar building. She barged into the club, running for the staircase and making her way to the top of the stairs. To Kaz’s room.

She opened the door, noticing the dimmed lights and Kaz sitting at his desk. He lifted his gaze and the only thing that indicated his surprise was his frown.

“Rough night?” he asked, getting up from his desk. He walked closer to her, looking her up and down. “Please, do say that the other guy looks worse.”

She breathed a small laugh but only shook her head. “I didn’t know where else to go,”

Kaz sighed, going to the small, adjoined room, y/n suspected it was a small bathroom. A moment later, Brekker emerged with a small kit in his gloved hands, he handed her the kit and motioned for y/n to the room he had just left.

“Go clean yourself, I’ll tell Inej to fetch you some clean clothes,”

“Thank you,” it was the first time she let herself be that vulnerable in front of someone. She wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation.

Y/n went into the bathroom, her limbs heavy and her head hurting. She took a look at herself and she spooked herself. Her whole left cheek was swollen, her eye nearly shut, her lip cracked and blood was marking its way down her chin and neck. She swallowed and started cleaning herself. When she mostly got rid of the blood, she lifted her shirt and saw a big, purple bruise on her ribcage. She had a hard time breathing. She felt the room swirling around her, but she strove to pull herself together. With as deep breath as she could take she left the bathroom.

Kaz was sitting at his desk again. He lifted his head when she stepped into the room and observed her when she took the fresh set of clothes from his bed. She walked towards the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” his hoarse voice came from behind her. She turned around and saw him frowning even more than before.

“I don’t know, maybe Nina has some room on her floor,” she remarked, hugging the clothes to her chest and turning her face back to the door.

“Stay,” Kaz whispered, his voice barely audible. Y/n stopped in her tracks, her spine straightened. Did she hear correctly? “You can take the bed,”

“Kaz, you don’t have to,” she started, but was promptly interrupted by Brekker’s voice.

“Shut up and lay down, you stubborn girl,” he came back to whatever work he had, y/n heart grew and she smiled for the first time in hours.

“Who would’ve thought there’s a heart underneath all of those layers,” she teased, laying down on his bed.

“Such a pity your father didn’t knock your teeth out,” Kaz said, but the small smirk on his face hinted that he wasn’t serious.

“Asshole,”

#kaz brekker my beloved #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows one shot #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #nina zenik

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ellewritesalright · 5 months

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Nine Long Years - Part 7/?

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

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6

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: Well... long time no see. I'm happy to finally share this part. it's been several months in the works since I have been very busy with college. So thank you to all who have stuck around. This part takes place around the start of the Ruin and Rising book, and is a fair bit shorter than the last few parts have been (btw I can't believe I've written over 40k words for this series) but I hope you all like it. I went a bit easier with the angst than I expected by giving these two a slight break

Warnings: mentions of death, angst and fluff, mentions of sickness, injury, panic attacks, firepox. If I'm missing something pls lmk

Word Count: 3,570

……….

SIXTH YEAR

Genya's handiwork stung. Though she was fixing your injuries, the nature of her Corporalki abilities was that she had to undo your injuries in a similar process as their infliction. You tried not to complain as she treated your fractured and cut shoulder, but you were still swallowing back a scream. Tamar ran a soothing hand along your head as she and Tolya held you down.

"Hold still for me." You could vaguely hear Genya say.

You gave a slight nod, all you could manage at the moment. The pain was excruciating. There was fire all along your shoulder blade and up and over to the corner of your collarbone where the Darlking's nichevo'ya had clawed at you. Like sticking a red hot iron to flesh. You were biting down so hard on the handle of Tamar's axe that you thought you might break a tooth. The Tailor's hands hovered over your shoulder and your body jolted but Tolya tightened his grip.

Everything was dark. It never occurred to you how musty and dank an underground tunnel system would be. You'd never considered a place like this could even exist. But here you were, below ground, in the darkest, dankest little "room" you'd ever been in. And no amount of candles or incense trays staved your new fear of the dark.

When you closed your eyes, you could see Nikolai. The way his eyes frantically found yours across the room. How he screamed when his brother was torn apart by the Darkling's shadow creatures. The silent nod of understanding as you guarded Alina while he helped his parents escape.

You wondered where he was now. With any luck, Nikolai escaped on the Kingfisher. He was safe and sound and able to fight the war while Alina and the rest of you were all underground. He had to be safe. Saints above and below, by the grace of Ghezen, and on the holiness of even the Fjerdan god, he had to be safe.

Because if he wasn't, you simply wouldn't know what to do.

You felt the pain end, and you glanced back at the trio of corporalki behind you.

"There," Genya spoke softly, easing her hands away from your shoulder. "This is about all I can do. The scarring doesn't go away completely."

Her eyes dropped in shame, one of the scars on her cheek pulling as she frowned slightly. Tamar and Tolya had released you, and you sat up. You gently took Genya's hand, giving her a grateful smile.

"You've healed me to full strength, and that's all that matters," you said kindly. "Thank you."

She smiled back at you.

……….

Time blurred together underground. You were still guarding Alina, and you'd constantly accompany her through the elaborate tunnels. You didn't trust the Apparat running this little underground cult. He had come to Alina's aid, that was true enough. But there was no doubt in your mind that the snivelly, power-hungry little man had some ulterior motive. Nikolai had told you about him many years ago while at sea.

"The religious counsel to my father is a weasel of a fellow. That man would bite the head off a live snake if it meant he would gain control of a single chapel, let alone the whole of Ravka," Nikolai said of the Apparat.

You could only hope Alina wasn't the snake in this case.

You worried for your sun summoner. It was no wonder that you all looked worn after your fight with the Darkling, but most of you had healed up despite your weariness. Yet Alina didn't seem to recover. She had lost use of her summoning in the past few months. It was difficult to say if that was because you were so far away from the sun, or because of the strain from her last fight with the Darkling; either way, you'd never seen her look so pale and sickly.

"It doesn't seem like anything helps her," Mal worriedly whispered to you one evening as you two ate off to the side of the usual huddle your group maintained. "Not water, or food, or any sort of activity."

"She probably just needs sun," you said, trying to ease his mind. "Once we figure out how to escape this place, we'll get her above ground and she'll be better."

"What if that's not all? When she fought the Darkling--"

"Don't think on it, Oretsev." You cut him off. "That's no way to be, with your worrying. We'll get her out, and she'll get better. That's it."

Mal let out a long sigh and went back to eating.

Your words had carried conviction. You had no idea how your group would escape, but you didn't mention that. It was all you could do to lift your friends' spirits, even though you were as unsettled as you'd felt since you were a girl in a Ketterdam harbour.

In the evenings, you roomed with Tamar and Tolya. Often sleeping between them, their breathing--and Tolya's snoring--reminded you that you were alive and somehow safe, no matter how temporary.

But even so, the dank underground smelled like death. It was like you were back on the cobbles of Ketterdam, seeing your brothers in every corner of every dark cavern in this place. They haunted you, even here. And, with no one to distract you from them, no one to hold you and reassure you that you weren't at fault for their sickness, their ghosts dogged you all hours of the day.

There were a few children underground, and sometimes when they'd cry you could just feel the sobs your baby brother cried against your shoulder when Da had passed away. You could taste the sick you emptied into the harbour after you lost your brothers.

It occurred to you that maybe this was your lot in life; maybe you were just meant to be haunted. You were plagued, for lack of a better word.

You couldn't count how many times a day your mind strayed to Nikolai. Worries or memories would surface, and you were unable to stave them just as you couldn't stave thoughts of your family. Truthfully, you didn't want to keep them at bay anymore. If you could die tomorrow and join your brothers, you would rather die with Nikolai in your thoughts than with nothing but fear and grief dogging your brain.

The anger you'd harboured for Nikolai had vanished. Your grudge seemed so insignificant now that you were separated like this. Everything seemed insignificant when you were trapped in a tomb.

At night the only reprieve you had from all the ghosts was when you'd finally fall asleep, your fingers clutching Nikolai's ring on the chain around your neck.

……….

When you and your friends finally surfaced again, it was a mad dash escape from that weasel and his cult.

You were running through some forest with them. You had no idea where you surfaced, all you knew was that it wasn't just the Aparat's cult after you, but a sect of Vasily's old Grisha-hating First Army. The soldiers were hot on your tails as you dashed through the trees. Tolya and Tamar were on your right, Genya was to your left, and Alina and Mal were slightly ahead of you. Shots were being fired behind you, and you weaved and ducked to avoid bullets as you ran aimlessly. Some of the Grisha you were travelling with used their skills to take on those in pursuit of you, but there were too many of them.

Just when it felt as though you would never make it out of this forest and away from the soldiers, you heard a familiar shouting of command. Repeat revolvers starting gunning from above, and you grabbed Genya and ducked to the side as the Kingfisher flew overhead, taking out your remaining foes.

It was all a blur as the flying ship landed. Your mind was whirring as Genya helped you to your feet, guiding you to the ship. You watched the others climb aboard, then you took your turn as well. As you clutched the wooden rails, you remembered the last time you'd been on this vessel, how you fell asleep below deck, curled up against Nikolai.

Nikolai.

As soon as he reentered your mind, your head was whipping around to catch sight of him, for surely he was here. It didn't take you long to hone in on him. He was speaking with Mal, grim expressions on both of their faces. Alina was there too, guzzling down a water flask; she looked automatically healthier now that she was out of the dirt and into the sun, but still not at full strength. Your eyes went to Nikolai again, and he seemed to be glancing around as well. When his eyes locked on yours, you swore you almost started to cry. The tension in his brow loosened, his strong shoulders relaxing for a second before he quickly excused himself from Mal and Alina. He strode directly over to you, bracing you in a hug. You clutched him back, face bundled in his chest as he gripped you so tightly.

There was a long moment in his arms as you embraced, but you both needed it. You'd gone months without knowing if each other were alive, much less alright.

"Thank every Saint that ever was," Nikolai chuckled in relief as he held you. He leaned back, bracing your arms. He noticed the rip in your jacket where the nichevo’ya had cut up your shoulder in the chapel. While the cult was able to provide a new shirt and trousers for you, there'd been no replacement jacket for you underground. "That's no good. Here."

He shed his military coat and slung it over you. He dusted off the sleeves as you just stood there watching him. You'd almost forgotten how warm his hazel eyes were.

"Are you alright?" He whispered, his hands still holding to your forearms almost as if reminding himself that you were really there in front of him.

There was no way to tell him about your time underground, about the scar on your shoulder and the feeling that maybe your whole life was just haunted. It took everything in you to reply with hope.

"Better now," you whispered back, nodding softly.

He smiled regretfully at you. You knew him well enough to know that he had something to say, but you weren't going to pressure it out of him. The last time you'd seen him you were still upset with him over his engagement–something that felt inconsequential now. Months away from him had turned your anger to dust, and now you just wanted to wipe clean and move on as best as you could--with or without him.

Nikolai looked at you for a moment, then hugged you again. He whispered something in Kerch, an old saying that you could remember your Ma and Da saying to one another when you were younger and your world was a farm and a family that was whole.

"My soul knows no richer than yours," he muttered into your ear, speaking your native tongue in his pretty lilt.

You teared up slightly. Your hand made a weak fist against his chest as you replied in Kerch. "You're infuriating."

"I know."

He cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his palm, staring at his soft hazel eyes.

"Go below deck, and I'll join you in a moment, alright?" He whispered kindly.

You nodded and made your way below. It took Nikolai longer than expected to join. There were others below deck, a few injured Grisha and Nikolai's First Army soldiers being tended to. You watched bones being reset, blood being transferred, and breathing assisted. You flinched as one of the soldiers coughed up blood, making a hauntingly familiar noise. Just as you looked away for fear of nausea, a hand grabbed yours. Nikolai had sat down beside you, and he gave your hand a comforting squeeze.

He let you lean into his side as the two of you sat there in silence.

……….

The Kingfisher flew for nearly a half hour more, but Nikolai stayed with you below deck until they had to dock the flying ship. When you arrived at the Spinning Wheel, there were lots of Grisha-friendly First Army there to greet everyone. The rescued were all led to different rooms, and as someone approached you to get you settled, Nikolai murmured something to them. They nodded and helped you through the winding hallways. You were given a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, and you wondered what you'd done to earn a private space like this. Surely many people at the Spinning Wheel had to share rooms.

Once you were alone, you shed your dank, dirt-covered cult clothes and discarded them in the bedroom while you ran a bath for yourself.

As you sank into the warm water you let your mind settle. It felt odd to feel safe again. After your time below ground, you didn’t know when you’d feel this way again, but you were grateful it was now.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door, and you heard Nikolai's voice.

“I took your clothes to the washers and brought you clean trousers and a shirt. I'll leave them just outside the door here for when you're finished your bath," he said kindly.

"Thank you," you called out, your voice slightly unsteady.

The thought of Nikolai on the other side of the door made your heart race. There was something about the moment that felt distinctly like your first trip to West Ravka back when you began to know him more as Nikolai than Sturmhond. The separation by only a door felt as excruciating as it used to feel watching him get into bed beside you without being able to reach for him. Prudence and politeness governed you both so strictly back them, and it had taken reign once again.

You shut your eyes and tried to relax some more in the bath, but your peace had shattered at the thought of Nikolai being so near yet so out of your reach.

You huffed to yourself as you got out of the bath and dried off. You took the clothes Nikolai had left for you and dressed yourself. The layers of soft white linen were slightly thin, but certainly not unappreciated. After months in the same clothes that you were rarely allowed to wash, you were overdue for something clean and fresh.

Without realizing it, your feet carried you to your bedroom door. It wasn't as though you knew where anything was in this place, but you twisted the knob and stepped into the hallway anyways. You made it two steps before you realized he was there, leaning against the wall beside your door.

"Hi," he said, blushing slightly.

You nodded at him. "Hi."

"Can we talk?" He asked, his eyes earnest.

You nodded again, stepping back into your room and letting him follow.

There were no other chairs or seating in the room, so you sat on the edge of your bed.

Nikolai sat a respectable distance beside you. "I wanted to tell you that--what's this?"

His eyes were on your shirt's wide collar, where the edge of your shoulder scar peeked out. You hooked a finger into your collar, pulling it to show a bit more of the scar as you angled your back to him too.

"Oh… it's from the nichevo’ya. One just barely nicked my shoulder as we first escaped into the tunnels." You felt a slight sting as he gently grazed his thumb along it. You relished his touch and the reminder that he was alive and with you so much so that you didn't even mind the sting. "Genya says it's permanent."

"I should have been there," he murmured.

You shook your head, turning back to look at him. "No, I'm glad you weren't. You needed to be above ground."

"I should have been with you." His eyes had that earnest look crossed with slight guilt.

"You had to get your parents to safety and rally what was left of the First Army, Nikolai."

"I wanted to be with you." He said as he held your hand, interlocking your fingers. "You're the woman I love, and I thought of you every second of every day I wasn't with you. Saints, I need you more than I need air."

You leaned closer to him, pressing your forehead against his collarbone. It wasn't meant in any romantic way, more just as a silent way to express that you loved him too, that you cared deeply for him. He brought his one arm around your shoulder as the other still held your hand.

"That's why I'm not going through with it," he said, and you could feel the rumble of his words against your head.

"With what?" You whispered.

"The engagement with Alina."

You leaned back slightly to look in his eyes. "What?"

He thumbed along your cheek. "Once the war is won, Alina and I will not be getting married. She and I have spoken already."

"But what about the unification of Ravka and the first and second army?"

"That can happen some other way." He looked deeply into your eyes. "But once we've won this war, I only want one thing."

You sighed and gave him a sad smile. "Niko–"

"Will you marry me?"

Your breath caught in your chest.

There was a time you thought he would ask you this, before you landed in Ravka more permanently, before you got launched into this war against the Darkling. But you knew he still had his ambitions.

"Is it because your brother's dead? Because you're guaranteed to be king now?" You asked.

He sighed and shook his head. It was hard to tell if he'd expected any apprehension from you. "It's because I love you. More than anything else I could ever think of. When I first arrived at the Spinning Wheel, everyone else whined about the cold of the mountains or the fact that they missed tea service and their evening kvas, but all I missed was you." He gently squeezed your hand. "Every day I spent not knowing if you were safe, if you were alive… I could barely sleep, barely eat… You're all I could ever want."

The look in his eyes was reminiscent of his soft yet resolute stare when he’d placed that crown on your head. It felt like a lifetime ago that he whispered honey in your ears and you listened without a shred of apprehension. But right now this wasn’t honey. This was raw. This was real. This was Nikolai in a state of total resolve. And you knew you wouldn’t be made a fool if you accepted him.

"I am all you want?" you whispered in response, your lips curling upwards slightly.

"You are. I want to spend my life with you," he smiled. "Will you marry me?"

“Yes." You nodded, a full smile forming on your lips. “I'll marry you. Of course I will.”

Nikolai broke into a grin. He cupped your cheeks and kept grinning at you, his eyes locked with yours. “Saints, I love you more than anything.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, then dipped down to capture your lips.

It was the first you’d kissed him in months and months. Truly, you hadn’t felt his lips on yours since before you’d crossed the fold. It ignited a forgotten hunger in you, and you kissed him back with a deep longing.

“I missed you,” he murmured as you pulled back for a moment. You noticed tears in his eyes. “I was so stupid, and I’m sorry for how I treated you. I never should have proposed to Alina, or made you feel like I only wanted you in secret. I want you, I’m proud to want you, and I never want my love for you to be a secret. I want you as my queen–my truest companion, as you have always been. I just… I want you.”

You kissed him again, wrapping your arms around him. You leaned so far against him that he rested his back against the headboard, bringing you with him. You missed the closeness with him, the intimacy of being pressed into his body as you kissed. Your fingers threaded into his golden hair as you sighed into his soft lips.

“Do you forgive me?” He whispered and you took in a breath.

Your fingers idly traced the skin right above his shirt collar. “I’ll forgive you once you get me a ring and make it official.”

“I gave you a ring years ago, my dear.” His finger went to the chain around your neck, and he pulled it loose from under your shirt, making his old silver ring dangle between you. “One could argue that we’ve been engaged all this time.”

“Then one could also argue that you were most definitely cheating on your fiance when you proposed to someone else,” you smirked at him.

“Ouch. I deserved that,” he chuckled.

He cupped your face again, his palms warm against your skin.

“I’ll get you a new ring. Something regal and fit for the most beautiful queen Ravka will ever know, moi tsaritsa.”

You smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. “Good.”

..........

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 :)

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fic #grishaverse fanfic #nine long years

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wylanslcve · 11 months

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I will never move on from how not only did the Crows steal the tank from the Ice Court, but the entire time Wylan is smiling to himself and then absolutely LOSES IT once they've escaped. Like the crew has just stolen a tank from a high-security prison, narrowly escaping death, but Wylan physically can't stop laughing and is quite literally snorting with laughter at the image of the Fjerdans firing uselessly in the tank's direction with the Fjerdan might banner caught in its treads. He could have died but he's laughing hysterically at how stupid the Fjerdans look as they failed to prevent literal children (who have STOLEN ONE OF THEIR TANKS) from escaping their high-security prison. This has got to be one of my favourite underrated Wylan moments.

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candy-necklace · 3 months

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⁀➴ dark paradise

⌞ general kirigan x fem! healer reader ⌝

summary : The reader has been instructed by the king to help tend to general Kirigan's wounds after his long battle from Fjerda. With such close proximity might something ignite? perhaps the beginning of a flame. word count : 2.4k a/n : Hello! this is my first ever oneshot on tumblr, i do realize this is quite short. Do let me know if you like it or if there's any thing else you'd like to see written! This fic was definitely inspired by the song 'dark paradise' by lana del ray. It means the absolute world to me that you're reading this <3

" there's no remedy for memory , your face is like a melody " 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ “May I go in?”- you ask patiently waiting outside the general’s chambers. After the long battle with the Fjerdans, you were specifically instructed by the king to aid the general upon his return. Being a healer wasn’t necessarily the best but you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter in your chest at the prospect of being so close to the general.

One of the guards standing outside the general’s door nods in acknowledgement of your presence, and then moves out of the way so you can step inside the general's chambers. The general was not warned that you were coming, so he looks up curiously with his dark eyes fixated on you with a piercing stare.

“I’m here to help”- you start nervously

General Kirigan leans back and crosses his arms. He seems less brooding than he was a few moments ago as he watches you step into the room. His gaze is steady and his look is intense, but there is a hint of something else in his expression that you have not yet been able to pinpoint.

“I heard our army won the war” You make your way to the general walking past the table onto where he stood. You raised your eyebrows when you saw the maps splayed on the table. “Yet you seem to be plotting on another”- you say studying the maps.

General Kirigan nods his head as you study the maps on the table. "Indeed we have succeeded in our mission to liberate Fjerda, yet there is something troubling me," he pauses for a moment and glances over at you with a look of contemplation. "You are quite observant, Y/N. I must admit it has been a while since someone has caught an anomaly so quickly." I smile shyly in response, focusing my attention on him. “The king sent me to help you with your battle scars”

General Kirigan leans forward slightly and stares into your eyes intently. They meet yours for a long moment without him blinking and then he finally nods. “I see. The king sent you to ease my injuries. Quite thoughtful of him don’t you think?”- he says proceeding to remove his kefta.

I look away pretending to study my surroundings as he undoes his shirt. “Of course”- I reply softly, fidgeting with the hem of my dress nervously.

“I must say I’m quite pleased you accepted to offer your help Y/N” You turn around and notice the general seated on his arm chair. He casually leans back making himself comfortable. Immediately your eyes fixate on his body. You take in the way his pale chest glistens under the chandelier lights. His chest rises and falls with every breath and all of a sudden you’re unable to form words. The heat seems to have risen in the room.

You seat yourself next to him and subtly ask for permission to inspect his arm. “Tell me about the war”- you say softly, attempting to make conversation just so you could keep your mind distracted from any foolish thoughts. He simply looks at you intently and nods.

“We grisha are difficult to eradicate” You frown as you gently run your hands over his scars tracing his arms to his shoulders. “Though they put up quite a show”- He answers smiling in amusement.

You hum in response as your mind is preoccupied in healing him. You were too fixated on what you were doing to realise the general’s gaze was upon you the entire time. You work your way to his muscular torso. He sucks in a sharp breath when your hand lingers over his chest. You snap out of your trance and look at him in guilt “Does that hurt?”

The general's breathing grows heavy and he swallows tightly as your touch lingers on his chest. When you ask if he feels pain, the general shakes his head slightly. "It does not pain me." He closes his eyes and tilts his head slightly. The general glances down at his torso to see where your hands are resting, but instead notices that you are looking at him. He smiles softly.

You blush profusely under his gaze and nod continuing your work. "You're very brave"- you say sitting up inspecting his body for any more wounds.

The general is quiet for a moment as he watches you inspect his body for any more wounds. His breathing is slow and steady, and his eyes seem to be gazing right through you. He is clearly enjoying your attention.

Finally, he speaks up, but you cannot help but notice that his voice is still deep and dark in tone. “Brave?” The general glances down at the scar on his torso and back up to you. “I don’t really think of myself as brave. I simply have the best interests of Ravka in my mind. It’s my honour to serve the kingdom”

You smile amused. "Not a lot of people are brave enough to lead a battle" Your eyes lock with his and you quickly look away "There is a cut on your face, may I?"- You ask politely

The general nods his head slightly as he hears your question. “You may.” His eyes follow your hands as they reach towards his face, and they meet yours for a moment when your hands make contact with his skin. The general’s features remain stoic as you begin to treat his cut and your fingers move across his face. His heartbeat quickens.

His hand envelops yours that’s on his face. “Y/N”- he starts leaning in gently. “Thank you for your help” He hastily stands up and you’re taken aback. His face is expressionless and you’re unable to comprehend what had just happened.

You clear your throat and nod unable to meet his eyes. “I must return to my chambers, I’ll be sure to send the king your regards”- you said quickly, turning away clearly hurt.

Just as you take a step he grabs your hand. “Wait” You turn around sighing only to see him staring longingly at you. He gently tugs on your hand and pulls you closer until your faces are inches apart.

“General I-”

“Call me Aleksander”- he replies sternly

As you’re about to say something he places his finger upon your mouth. “Shh”- he whispers, his breath heavy on your neck. Your eyes flutter close and you lean in. The general leans forward towards you and his lips meet yours in a slow and heated kiss. He slowly slides his arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to him, your bodies now pressed tightly against each other. His lips linger on yours before he pulls away and looks directly into your eyes.

You blink as if in a trance and a smile forms on your face. The general seems overwhelmed by your smile and he looks at you for a long moment without saying a word. He looks as if he is trying to find the right thing to say.

Finally, he clears his throat and looks away. His face is slightly red and he speaks quietly.

“I hope to see you again Y/N”

“I hope so too”- You reply and make your way out. Your cheeks are still tinted red and there are countless thoughts in your mind. You linger for a moment more outside the door and walk away smiling.

#shadow and bone #aleksander morovoza #darkling x reader #general kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #ben barnes #soc #grishaverse #the darkling #the darkling x fem!reader

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jahayla-parker · 5 months

Text

Closure : Kaz Brekker x Reader

Description: 5.7k wc, Kaz’s wife seeks help from Nina to allow Kaz to get some closure surrounding Jordie’s death. Hurt-comfort, fluff, slight angst (turned fluff), healing.

Warnings: typical Six of Crows and Grishaverse warnings, mentions of death and funerals and related topics, mentions of trauma and injuries, etc. Again, typical SoC warnings.

Out of the corner of her eyes, y/n watched Kaz closely. She could tell her husband was trying to act as if it wasn’t impacting him. But y/n knew better. She could see the distant look in his eyes as he tried to focus on the numbers for the Crow Club’s books.

Kaz owned his family’s farm back in Lij; under an alias, of course. He’d always had eyes on the land even while he stayed in the Barrel. But once y/n was informed of the existence of the property, she had begun to take the occasional trip to the area to check on it for herself/themselves rather than relying on Kaz’s intel. Y/n often did these trips as part of a journey to visit the other crows. Y/n would always update Kaz to the state of the property once she returned home. Over time, she also began tending to the land in small increments; planting the seeds from Kaz for her favorite flower in the planter boxes she bought from a market in Ketterdam, sweeping the wind blown debris from the rooms of the little house on the property, etc.

Kaz had made the occasional trip back as well, but primarily relied on y/n’s detailed descriptions, stories, and analysis of their place in Lij. It was hard for him to go back; for many reasons. But, he couldn’t deny he missed it. He also couldn’t -though he certainly tried- ignore the way he felt when he and y/n were on the farm in Lij. It was uncomfortable in the sense that it was unfamiliar. But it was otherwise peaceful and homely. Not that it mattered. Kaz’s life was here; in Ketterdam, in the Barrel.

The couple had talked about moving at some point, but the conversation would always fade out when it came to what they’d be leaving behind. While most of their closest friends had all parted from the Barrel and Ketterdam entirely, there was still something -or someone- they’d be leaving behind. Jordie. Kaz’s late older brother who was resting under the cold harbor of Ketterdam.

While Kaz felt guilty for not being able to leave the area, he knew y/n more than understood his reasoning. Yet, that didn’t stop him from having to face his racing thoughts on the matter tonight. He felt as if his head was spinning. He wanted to offer his wife a comfortable life, a life in his childhood town, where she would be safe and free to do as she wished, where he might be able to put his past behind him. After all, he’d gotten his vengeance on Rollins. The only thing keeping Kaz here in the grungy streets of the Barrel -other than the easy influx of Kruge, which he could surely find a way to continue if he left- was his brother. It was foolish. Jordie was dead. He’d died long ago and he wasn’t coming back. Kaz’s staying here wouldn’t change that. Yet it felt wrong to leave the place his brother was, even if it was the same place that had taken that brother from him.

“I’m off to see Mila Jandersdat,” y/n said, breaking the silence.

Kaz smirked at the unnecessary use of Nina’s undercover name. “Is that so?” “Well, tell Ms. Jandersdat that she still owes me a new hat,” he commented lightly, referencing the one the Grisha had stolen on her last departure from Ketterdam.

Y/n laughed. “I’ll be sure to let the Fjerdan Prince know that their spouse is still indebted to you,” she teased, leaning down. Upon noticing Kaz didn’t react in a way that told her stop, she placed a kiss to his cheek.

Kaz looked up from his desk as y/n turned to move towards the door. He grabbed her hands in his bare ones. “Take my coat,” he instructed.

“It’s not that co-” y/n protested futilely.

“Take my coat,” Kaz echoed.

Y/n huffed lightly but nodded. “I’ll be back after the bakery, you’ll sure you don’t want to join?” She waited patiently for Kaz to answer. For the first time ever when asking that question, she actually hoped he’d say no. He usually did, and she hoped that was the case again today as she wanted to talk to Nina alone.

Kaz rewarded y/n’s kindness with a small but appreciative smile. He shook his head. “The ledger needs work,” he mumbled vaguely. In reality, he was just too in-his-head to handle anything else. He squeezed his wife’s hands faintly as he watched her depart.

Y/n swallowed another sip of her lemonade as she prepared to switch the tone of the visit she was having with Nina. She’d let her friend catch her up on everything she had done since they last saw each other. But now, y/n needed to ask her for a favor. “Okay, so…,” y/n began with an audible shift in her tone.

“Mmm?” Nina questioned knowingly as she glanced up from her plate.

“I need a favor,” y/n explained cautiously. She bit her lip as she waited for Nina’s reaction.

Nina sighed. “I don’t do Brekker favors anymore,” she reminded y/n.

“He’s not asking, I am,” y/n clarified. “Although he does want his hat back, or a new one in place of it,” she added to break the tension.

Nina laughed loudly. “Okay, if it’s for you, sure,” she accepted.

“I haven’t even asked,” y/n pointed out, “you don’t know what it is I’m asking you to do”.

“Doesn’t matter,” Nina winked.

Y/n giggled and shook her head with a timid smile gracing her lips.

“What is it?” Nina questioned, taking another bite of her cinnamon waffle.

“It involves your newly acquired skill set,” y/n mumbled quietly.

“Go on,” Nina urged, waving her fork at her friend.

Y/n bit her lip nervously and sighed. “I need nothing more than help to locate someone…” she explained, hoping to minimize the weight of her request.

“Someone deceased,” Nina clarified knowingly.

“Yes,” y/n acknowledged.

“Why?” The Grisha questioned as she swallowed another large bite.

“Closure…” y/n explained vaguely. She knew Kaz was needlessly embarrassed that he didn’t even know the exact placement of his late brother’s body in Ketterdam. Y/n had once suggested he visit Jordie to help him heal, even if he didn’t believe that kind of thing. Only, that was when she learned how deep Kaz’s guilt went. He didn’t know Jordie’s exact location and he blamed himself for that.

Y/n didn’t feel like she was crossing any boundaries. Nina already knew of Kaz’s brother; they all did by now. Plus, Y/n had asked Kaz before if he would want to know where Jordie was. In doing so, she learned he did want to know, just hadn’t initiated the process; an area where he often needed a push or assistance with.

It didn’t take long for y/n to explain to Nina what she needed from her. Nor did it take long for Nina to put her new skills to work in locating Jordie’s body. Y/n had of course gone with her, and she was pleased Kaz didn’t have to experience that part. While Nina’s skills were impressive, they were also a bit disturbing when you knew the deceased person she was calling out to. Nevertheless, Nina succeeded. Meaning y/n could now offer her husband the chance for more closure when it came to his past.

Y/n and Kaz were donned in matching black overcoats, walking with their elbow linked, as they made their way through the streets of the Barrel. Y/n had informed her husband of her discovery and offered for him to go alone or for her to go with him, leaving it up to him. Kaz didn’t directly ask her to go with him, but he made it clear that was what he wanted. So, the couple had departed from the Crow Club and were now watching as people parted to make way for the Barrel’s most powerful couple.

Y/n silently waited beside Kaz as he stood staring out at the water in the exact place Nina stated she located Jordie. It was clear he was trying not to get emotional, his eyes twinkling as he fought back tears. “You don’t have to do this,” y/n whispered supportively, “or we can break it up, I just thought maybe-”.

“No, it’s fine,” Kaz muttered shortly. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You…” he began, trying to find a way to properly thank y/n for bringing him this chance. “I need to do this,” he admitted. “I should’ve years ago”.

Y/n shook her head. “That’s not how this works,” she defended.

The tears slowly trickling down Kaz’s face softened the intense sensation of drowning that filled his chest as he stared silently at the water where Jordie’s body allegedly was. The flashbacks that played in his mind were powerful, but less severe than they had been when he first started getting them years ago. And the now-comforting feeling of y/n’s hand in his kept him tethered to reality, to the moment; keeping him from succumbing to the feeling of drowning.

Y/n watched as Kaz kept his eyes closed for awhile. She didn’t say a word. She just watched his facial expression, listened to his breathing pattern, and kept a close eye on his overall state.

When he was done standing on the shore before his brother’s sunken body, Kaz turned to his wife. “Thank you,” he whispered shakily to her.

“Course,” y/n said, squeezing Kaz’s hand. She could tell he was still fighting off the rising water in his chest so she moved her hand to his jacket-covered elbow. “Let’s get you home,” she suggested warmly as she guided them back to the Slat.

“Th-” Kaz cleared his throat as he looked up from his dresser to make eye contact with y/n through the mirror. “Thank you,” he whispered gruffly. He took a long deep breath before adding, “for having me go”.

“Of course,” y/n hummed softly. She watched Kaz’s facial expressions in the mirror as she pushed her boots off with her feet. “So, it helped then?” She asked, trying to confirm she’d read through his faux stoic expression properly.

Kaz shifted his gaze back to his dresser as he stripped his outer layers off. “I know he’s gone,” he stated simply. But, his shoulders loosened and lowered as he nodded slowly. “But… yes, it did.”

“I’m glad,” y/n said and smiled tenderly as she crawled into their bed. She scooted under the covers as she analyzed Kaz as he prepared for the night. She could see that while it would still take time, today’s adventure had initiated a healing journey that hadn’t truly begun before now.

“You can tell Ms. Jandersdat that I don’t need a new hat,” Kaz mumbled as he approached the bed. He noticed y/n’s grin and small chuckle. He smirked and took a deep breath before he carefully slid into his side of the bed. “Goodnight, y/n/n,” he whispered as he uncharacteristically let his left hand cross the space between them under the sheets and rest atop y/N’s.

Y/n sighed as she searched the last possible place in the Slat that Kaz might have been. She’d already searched the Crow Club before she headed here. Yet, she still hadn’t located him. As she thought about where else her husband might have snuck off to, she thought back through what had transpired in the first place.

They had been sitting together in Kaz’s office this evening when he got word that there’d been an incident. One of his lead Dregs had informed him that this young orphan boy had somehow managed to find himself getting mixed up with Kaz’s crew. He hadn’t reacted well. The young orphan would be fine, but Kaz had set clear rules for his Dregs and this was a violation. He had stormed off to chew out his crew over the mistake. Y/n had been beside him as he lashed out at the Dregs and informed them of the sanctions for such an incident. Meaning she was there when he announced that as part of their consequences he was going to be taking their wages for the week. He’d grumbly whispered to her as he requested that she take the sum of their wages and ensure the boy’s hospital stay was paid for (and give him the remainder as compensation). When y/n had returned from doing so, she noticed Kaz’s disappearance.

Y/n knew as soon as they heard of the incident what Kaz would feel and how he’d react. She also knew why. The situation was far too familiar and personal for him. So, it hadn’t surprised her when he was not in the Slat nor the Crow Club when she arrived. However, it wasn’t until she remembered his behavior over the last several weeks that she realized where he must be.

Y/n buttoned her coat as she made her way to the harbor. She knew Kaz had to be there. It made sense when she recalled how often he’d been coming here since the day two months ago when she and Nina located Jordie. She had made a makeshift generic headstone (knowing Kaz wouldn’t want people to know the meaning or significance of the place much less connecting it to him) for the site so that if Kaz wished to return on his own he could do so easily; even if he was distracted by the emotional turmoil in his mind upon doing so. She and Kaz had went to the site together multiple times. And in the last few weeks he’d even gone by himself. It would make sense that today’s triggers would bring him back to the site that he now found some kind of connection and healing at.

Y/n saw him instantly. It didn’t matter that Ketterdam was pitch black at his hour and that Kaz was dressed head to toe in coal black clothing. She’d recognize Kaz’s silhouette and shadow no matter what. She watched him closely as she approached. He’d been getting better at opening up to her and even to himself since first coming here. But there was only so much he could do while staying stoic and keeping up his menacing image for the public. So it was no surprise that even tonight he was still keeping a wall up. He was shaking slightly, his breathing sharp and fists clenched. She could see he was still furious over what had happened, but the shine of the moon highlighted the fact his eyes were more moist than normal. It was progress, he was letting himself grieve finally. She debated about whether to approach or just say back and let him have his space. But, before she could determine what the best option was, Kaz answered it for her.

“You do not need to spy on your husband from the shadows,” Kaz muttered, his fists unraveling as he pictured the bashful expression that was likely gracing y/n’s face over his teasing comment. His back was to her as he stayed looking out at the harbor, but he heard her approaching. He extended the hand not holding his cane to the side, taking hold of her hand when she reached him. His eyes flickered over at her as he quickly scanned her to ensure she was dressed properly for the cold weather and had brought her weapon with her. After his eyes took in that she was wearing the thick winter coat he’d gotten her last year, long pants, boots, and saw the outline of her weapon in her coat pocket, he let out a silent sigh of relief. “It was a joke,” Kaz muttered as he watched y/n’s face.

“What?” Y/n questioned, her head turning to face Kaz.

“My comment, when you arrived,” Kaz explained. “It was a joke”. He squeezed her hand as he interlaced their fingers. “I mean, you don’t have to spy, but-”

“I wasn’t spying,” y/n argued.

Kaz lifted his brows teasingly as he gazed knowingly at y/n.

Y/n chuckled and shook her head. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to be alone,” she explained.

Kaz hummed. “I always want to be alone,” he admitted, looking back at the water. “Especially when… feeling like… well… feeling,” he simplified. He shook his head as his gaze returned to his wife’s presence. “Unless it’s you,” Kaz confessed, his cold cheeks thawing briefly as he blushed madly.

Y/n grinned at Kaz and squeezed his hand. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she promised. It was an indirect vow to fight off any uncertainty on how to proceed when Kaz was dealing with something. But, they both knew what it meant. Kaz was healing, he was being more open and honest, more needing of and seeking out his wife’s love and support when he needed it instead of shutting down and trying to push her away.

“What do you think would help you get closure?” Y/n questioned once she saw the faint calmness take over Kaz’s face.

“This helped,” Kaz admitted, referred to y/n having gotten Nina to help find Jordie’s body.

“I know, I can see it,” y/n hummed as she tenderly smiled over at Kaz. “And, I’m glad”. Y/n rubbed her thumb over the back of Kaz’s hand. “I know you don’t have faith or a religious belief of any kind, but,” she hesitated briefly, continuing only as Kaz squeezed her hand, “do you think a burial might help?”

“What?” Kaz croaked out in confusion and shock. He wasn’t sure what he expected y/n to say as a possible solution. But, he’d never anticipated that.

“Burying him,-” y/n began cautiously.

Kaz stiffened as he glared out at the water before them. “He is buried,” he pointed out.

“Right, yeah, no I know, Kaz,” y/n agreed sympathetically. “But, you hate the harbor, and well, water,” she frowned, “even outside of this, it’s distressing for you”. She sighed as she gazed out at the water as well. “So I thought maybe… I’d suggest that you think about an underground burial for him”. Y/n knowingly moved her hand around in Kaz’s hold when he tensed so that he wouldn’t feel as if he was holding a cold & stiff hand. “You’d still have a place to visit him, and-” she explained slowly.

“I can’t,” Kaz told y/n, cutting her off.

Y/n analyzed her husband’s face as she thought over her next words. “You wouldn’t have to see anything,” she promised. She knew he’d never admit such a vulnerability out loud while they were out in the public, but she knew it was likely one of his hesitations; Kaz already had Jordie’s dead body engraved in his mind, he didn’t need to see it again. “It would be done in secret, in the background, just Nina and I, we’d handle the-” y/n elaborated.

Kaz suddenly sharply turned to face y/n. His anxious eyes scanned her face as he tried to read if she was lying. “You’d do that?” He asked.

Y/n nodded affirmatively. “If you wanted, yes,” she promised. “I’m not expecting you to want to see, touch, or otherwise deal with any of this, Kaz”.

Kaz nodded slowly. He turned from y/n as he thought about her proposal. After a few moments of silence, he shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Okay,” y/n replied, squeezing Kaz’s hand. “That’s fine,” she assured him. “I knew you might not want to, I figured I’d offer but-”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want that,” Kaz spoke sharply. He closed his eyes painfully tight and sighed as he regretted his tone. His regret increased as he noticed the way his wife paused. Kaz took a deep but shaky breath before continuing. “It’s just…” he sighed, “Lij”.

“What about it?” Y/n questioned delicately as she scanned her husband’s profile.

Kaz’s eyes flickered off the water and towards his feet. He sighed and shook his head. “That’s where we should be.” He lifted his gaze up to meet y/N’s as he added, “you love the house and-”.

“Kaz,” y/n sighed.

Kaz shook his head softly, a silent signal for y/n to wait for him to explain before trying to confront him. “I want to be there too,” he confessed, watching his wife’s face for her reaction. “For us to be there. Together.” He tried not to cringe at how broken his words were coming out. “Not just for a trip. But for our…h-ho-….” Kaz murmured in a hushed voice.

“Our home?” Y/n clarified. When Kaz nodded stiffly, she smiled softly. This too was a big step for him, in many ways. “I love that idea, you know that.”

Kaz broke his eye contact with y/n as she looked back out at the water. His face took on a saddened expression. “I can’t ignore what happened here or move on,” he said remorsefully.

“No one says you have to forget or ignore it,” y/n commented, squeezing Kaz’s slightly trembling hand. “If you wanted to do the burial,” she began carefully.

“If we did the burial,” Kaz sighed, “we’d still be stuck here or I’d have to come back”. He shook his head. “I mean not have to, but-”.

“Kaz,” y/n spoke tenderly in order to stop his rambling. “He could come with us,” she suggested.

“What?” Kaz whispered.

Y/n rubbed the back of Kaz’s hand with her thumb. “Nina and I could get him back to Lij,” she offered. “He could have a proper burial”. She hesitated but continued with her thought, “a funeral even”.

“No mourners, no-” Kaz griped.

“Kaz,” y/n giggled lightly. She smiled faintly as her giggle made Kaz’s lip curl. “This is different,” she explained.

“No funeral,” Kaz replied firmly. Despite his gruff voice, he squeezed his wife’s hand as a silent thank you for the offer.

“Okay,” y/n accepted easily.

“But…” Kaz trailed off.

“But?” Y/n pressed gently.

Kaz took a deep breath and sighed. “Perhaps.. I do owe it to him,” he began slowly. “To finally get him out of these waters”.

“Kaz-” y/n frowned.

Kaz sighed but nonetheless accepted y/n’s unspoken response. He revised his wording as he knew why he was being scolded. “I owe it to him… to let him rest,” he rephrased quietly. “Even if just his body”.

Y/n’s lips curled minutely. “Okay,” she nodded. “We can arrange that”.

Kaz’s grip on y/n’s hand tightened unconsciously as he thought about the arrangement more. “I don’t…. I can’t see his-” he mumbled.

“You won’t,” y/n promised. She knew he meant he couldn’t face seeing his late brother’s body. And she had never intended for him to. It was an easy promise. She and Nina would get Jordie to Lij for Kaz without Kaz having to be further traumatized in the process.

Y/n’s eyes flickered between the wooden door that lead down to the cabin of Inej’s ship and the wooden casket that was being loaded on board.

Everything from their home was already packed and ready to depart via Inej’s ship to travel to the other end of Kerch; to Lij. Everything but Jodie. Y/n had sequestered her husband Kaz below deck with Wylan and Jesper to keep him company. Meanwhile, Nina, Inej, and several clueless Dregs, loaded Jordie’s coffin onto the ship. The engraved dark mahogany casket with elaborate metal hinges and personalized engraved metallic plating that was now encasing and hiding Jordie’s body had been made by Jesper and Wylan at y/n’s request. She and Nina had seen to getting Jordie’s body from the harbor to the casket undetected. Well, Nina managed Jordie’s body and ensured there was no lingering contagion nor decaying smell. While y/n had been on lookout in the immediate vicinity of the scene. And now Inej was helping them transport the unlabeled casket to Lij. It had been a full team effort and y/n was beyond grateful that her friends were so willing to help her with this.

Once the casket was secured, hidden from sight, and covered with a weather proof sheet, Y/n dismissed the clueless Dregs. She thanked the girls as she made her way down to the cabin below deck. She gave Kaz a small supportive smile in greeting as his eyes snapped towards her upon hearing her enter. She made her way over to the boys and sat down beside Kaz.

Kaz watched y/n fight her visible exhaustion as their friends chatted about their respective experiences in their new lives. He stared expectantly at her profile, waiting for her to glance his way in a silent question as to if she could rest against him. Only, she didn’t seem to notice. Instead, Kaz watched her eyes blink at an absurdly slow pace as she tried to fight a yawn. He stifled a chuckle, the suppressed desire to grin showing up as a faint smirk. He shook his head and nudged y/n. Kaz gave her a knowing look, pleased when she quickly comprehended his request and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Ready to give all this up?” Y/n asked in a whisper as her friends listened to Inej informing them of her latest adventures.

Kaz seemed to falter in shock. But, as he looked over at his wife, he nodded confidently. A smirk graced his lips as he murmured, “I’m always ready”.

Y/n giggled and playfully rolled her eyes. She leaned into his shoulder further as she smiled around at their friends. “Hey guys,” she whispered, quietly interrupting the conversation. When they turned to face her, she was greeted with several grins and knowing smirks given her current positioning with Kaz. “Thank you all for coming to help us move,” y/n hummed.

“You both helped us during ours,” Wylan commented with a smile.

“Well, y/n did,” Jesper corrected smugly, “Kaz just stood around”.

Kaz shot Jesper a light glare. “I was supervising,” he stated.

Y/n laughed loudly, covering her mouth with her hand when Kaz’s gaze snapped down at her questioningly. She giggled behind her hand as she tried to stifle her laughter. She lowered her hand and gave Kaz an innocent grin, making the corners of his lips curl up as he playfully shook his head at her.

———

Y/n made her way back down to the lower deck of Inej’s ship. She’d just gotten back from checking on the burial site. Earlier she’d arranged for one of the workers who’d been tending to the farm while they were away due a grave site prior to the crows’ arrival. Y/n had ensured that it was completed and was now returning to her husband as he waited below deck.

Y/n’s eyes met Kaz’s and she then glanced arrived the room in silent communication with him. She watched as Kaz nodded in understanding and acceptance that the others in the room, namely Jesper, was going to hear whatever she was about to say. She nodded back and walked to his side. “He’s in a casket, Kaz,” she explained tenderly. Y/n spared a look at Kaz’s hands and realized he must’ve caught on to her uncertainty as he randomly flipped his palm up and extended his hand towards her. She gave him a small smile and took his hand in hers. “We’re going to move him to the burial site,” she explained slowly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. Y/n had a feeling she knew the answer to her question, but she didn’t want to not offer him the chance. “Did you want to come up and,-?” She began quietly.

“No,” Kaz replied stiffly as his body tensed.

“You don’t want to watch him go into,-” Jesper began to ask, not noticing the look y/n was giving him.

“No,” Kaz repeated gruffly. His hand tightened in y/n’s hold and he shifted his jaw. He managed a deep breath when her warm hand squeezed his lovingly.

“I know it’s hard,” Wylan said sympathetically. “But, it’s the only time-,” he argued, squinting in confusion at the realization y/n was shooting daggers at him.

“That’s enough,” y/n stated firmly. She shot her husband a subtle sympathetic look. She squeezed Kaz’s hand again, her thumb grazing the back of it as she went to move. She nodded her head at the others in signal for them to follow her.

———

“That was really beautiful, y/n,” Inej commented supportively as their group made their way back to the farmhouse.

Y/n smiled appreciatively at her friend. She and most of the other crows had all gone with her to help her bury Jordie’s casket and body. She intentionally buried him beside this one specific tree she recalled Kaz previously telling her a childhood story about. It was one of the few childhood memories Kaz actually had. While it was likely a story Jordie had passed down to Kaz, given Dirtyhands would’ve been too young to recall anything from his time here on his own, that almost made the location even more sentimental.

While y/n and the other crows respectfully buried Kaz’s late brother, Jesper had stayed behind to keep Kaz company. Not that Kaz would ever admit to needing or wanting such, even now. But his crows, his found family, knew him well enough.

As the group entered y/n and Kaz’s new home, Y/n greeted Jesper with the same appreciative grin she’d given the others after they helped with the burial. “Alright, so,” she murmured as her black boots echoed on the tiled flooring under her feet. “I say we unpack the bedroom stuff first?” Y/n asked, looking at her husband for his input, knowing Kaz wouldn’t want to talk about what she had just finished doing.

“That’s important,” Inej agreed, quickly picking up on y/n’s intentions.

“I’d say so,” Jesper smirked smugly as he winked over at the couple.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Not like that, you degenerate,” she laughed. “I meant so that we would have something to sleep in. We can unpack over time but I kinda would like something to lay on,” she joked as she took her husband’s left hand in hers.

“Lay on… while wearing what?” Jesper teased as he wriggled his eyebrows.

Kaz used his unoccupied hand to smack Jesper upside the head as he also shot him a look.

“Whaaat?” Jesper whined as he held his head. He looked between y/n and Kaz as she parted from Kaz as she made her way over to the moving boxes.

“What do you mean what?!” Kaz remarked, his eyes scrutinizing his friend.

“Wylan doesn’t care,” Jesper defended, rubbing the back of his head. “He knows I’m joking,” he laughed with a shrug.

“I don’t care,” Kaz remarked simply as he waved the comment off dismissively. “Don’t talk about my wife like that,” he ordered. From his periphery, he saw the grin that formed on y/n’s face as the title ‘wife’ left his lips. But his scolding gaze never left Jesper.

Y/n walked back over to the bickering boys and rubbed Kaz’s back through his coat. “You heard him,” she said as she smirked at Jesper before she passed by them with a box in her hand.

“Y/n,” Jesper groaned loudly. “Help me out, it was a joke,” he whined with a dramatic pout.

“You’re on your own, Jes,” y/n chuckled from the hall.

Kaz continued to stare as Jesper turned back around hesitantly. He stifled a chuckle as the sharpshooter gave him a faux innocent expression. Kaz shook his head as he brushed past him on his way to help his wife with the boxes she had been carrying.

———

“If you keep smiling so much Brekker, you might erase your hard earned scowl lines,” Nina teased with a smug grin as she watched her friends who were snuggled up on the couch in their new place.

The group had all been making playful comments about how happy Kaz looked. But, it hadn’t caused the man to part from his wife’s side. Instead, he just teased them back or lightheartedly glared at the remarks throughout the evening.

As Kaz turned to face Zenik, his eyes caught sight of window and he realized that it was now after dusk. “On that note, I think you should be on your way,” he murmured.

“Kaz,” y/n scolded with a laugh. She shook her head and tugged on his arm she had linked with hers.

Kaz chuckled as he gazed down at his wife. “What?” He questioned with pretend confusion.

“He’s just playing coy, we know he loves us being here,” Nina winked. “But, we probably should head out before it gets too late,” she acknowledged.

Y/n smiled at their friends as they gathered just outside of her and Kaz’s front door for final goodbyes. She quickly parted from her place at her husband’s hip as she went to give everyone a hug. “Thank you all, again,” she smiled. “Please feel free to come visit, anytime,” y/n offered, returning to Kaz’s side.

Kaz gently set one of his hands on y/n’s far hip once she was back beside him. “But, write first,” he said stoically, despite the playful glint in his eyes. “Otherwise, you risk finding yourself staring down the wrong end of a barrel,” he warned.

“We know, we know,” Jesper smirked. He and Kaz exchanged knowing glances as the group all said they goodbyes.

———

Y/n watched from the window of their new home as Kaz sat beside Jordie’s burial site marker. If he’d visited before today, she hadn’t seen it. But, she was proud of him visiting the area after having only been here less than a week.

The tree and connected burial site were far enough away from the house that y/n had to squint to see much of anything from this far away. But she didn’t need to. She was simply proud he was finally allowing himself to grieve the loss of his brother after all this time.

Y/n wasn’t naive. She knew there still had a long way to go. That Kaz still had a lot to work through. She knew it might be difficult along the way but she was happy they were here. Kaz could now rest. He’d exacted his revenge on Pekka and now he’d helped his brother find rest back home. So, while they’ll still earned some income from the club, Kaz could finally have a life that wasn’t not so hard on his injured leg or traumatized mind; one where he could find closure and peace. And he deserved that.

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exit-pursued-by-a-squid · 1 year

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Remember when they stole a tank in Six of Crows?

I have not seen enough people talking about that one scene in Six of Crows where Inej, Jesper, and Wylan steal a tank. It is probably my favorite scene in the entire book and I am going to talk about it.

The chaos. The gremlin-ness of all of them. Jesper being so excited to drive the tank. Wylan and Inej manning the turret and laughing their asses off. The tank dragging a dirty, soot-stained banner that says “Fjerdan might” behind it. The poetic revelry and beauty that they all see in the complete and utter destruction they leave in their wake.

The way Nina, Matthias, and Kaz react when they see the tank. Nina starts shouting for joy. Matthias is in so much shock he just does not speak for a minute. Kaz is, and I quote, “grinning like an idiot,” which is one of the only times we see him really truly smile, and it’s an enormous, insane, excited grin. Kaz immediately denies being happy at all and keeps grinning at the tank.

Inej and Wylan popping out of the top and waving to them before blowing up the bridge.

Plus, this is one of the only times we see these characters laugh so much and be so overtly joyful. Wylan laughs so hard his stomach hurts. Kaz is grinning like a little kid. Inej has just bested her abuser and is riding the high of that and of firing a massive gun with Wylan.

And it gives us little snippets of dynamics that aren't focused on as much, like Kaz and Matthias or Inej and Wylan.

Truly one of the most chaotic, hilarious, and fun moments in the entire duology. It’s right up there with Kaz and Wylan crashing through Van Eck’s ceiling and onto a full dinner table to escape the guards, in my opinion.

Anyway I love this scene and we should talk about it more. 1000/10, will continue to re-read forever

#six of crows #the crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #kuwei yul bo #I didn't talk about him here but he's also there and is just generally very confused #and it's hilarious #I just think we as a fandom do not talk about this scene enough #which is a shame because I love it dearly #it's just so good #kaz and matthias #inej and wylan #fjerdan soldiers: get out of the fucking tank #the crows: you're not my dad

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year

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Some little details you might have missed in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom

(Maybe part one?)

When discussing the Ice Court Heist at the start of the book Wylan explains that he speaks Fjerdan and although Jesper teases that he probably isn’t very good at it, the fact that Wylan has been to the Ice Court at least once before would beg to differ; as a diplomatic meeting it would probably be considered impolite if he and his family didn’t speak at least some Fjerdan when being hosted by what I assume to have been the royal family or at least higher-ups in the Fjerdan government. However, when he’s drawing up plans of the Court on the boat, Kaz asks why nothing is labelled and Wylan says “I don’t know Fjerdan”. He does, in fact, know Fjerdan (and it’s confirmed later that he speaks it well), but he is hiding the fact that he cannot write

In the Bathroom Scene™️ Kaz says that Inej’s tell is the way she squares her shoulders before making a move, “as if you’re waiting for the audience’s attention”. When Kaz goes to the slat in the next chapter, after the fight he squares his shoulders before making his speech to launch a coup against Per Haskell. I think this is really interesting and it absolutely shows what Inej realises at the time, that “the fight was just the opening act” but this, the talking and the convincing and the persuasion, this is Kaz’s superpower. I think this is so interesting and says so much about him, but it’s also a great Kanej parallel. More than any character I can think of, Kaz absolutely embodies the quote “I discovered at a very young age that if I talked for long enough I could prove anything right or wrong, so either I’m god or truth is relative. And either way, boo-yah” (which by the way is a quote from the brilliant sitcom Community)

This is my favourite Wesper parallel: in soc when Wylan uses a bomb to save them from the parem-drugged fabricator, Jesper says “Wylan earned his keep”. Wylan replies “Did I?” and Jesper says “Well, you made a downpayment”. At the end of Crooked Kingdom when the pair are able to go back to Wylan’s house because Van Eck has been arrested, Wylan asks Jesper if he really meant it when he said that he would stay and help run the business by reading to him, and Jesper says of course, but “I charge a pretty steep fee”. Wylan blushes and replies “well I hope the medik is here to fix my ribs soon, because I’d like to make a downpayment”. THEY’RE SO GODDAMN ADORABLE

This one I think is something people just forget, but Nina and Matthias are heavily implied to have slept together on Black Veil when they got from Ravkan embassy. The pair go to get changed and reappear “rumpled and rosy several long minutes later”. Jesper laughs when he sees them- he says “Staying on task?” to which Nina replies “I’m teaching Matthias all about fun. He is an excellent student, diligent in his studies” as Matthias gets progressively more and more embarrassed. But yeah I’ve never seen anyone talk about it I think people just forget

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #helnik #the crows #crow club #ketterdam #kuwei yul bo #shadow and bone

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myhairpintrigger · 1 year

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Hiiii hope ur well

would u mind doing a darkling x moon summoner fix like she’s disguised as the queens gorgeous lady in waiting but she’s really the kings personal gaurd/assassin.

and aleksander finds out about her when she saves alina from the attack on the way to the little palace.

and of course u have free rein whether u want to continue this or have a jealous trope with Alina and I won’t shy away from smut lol (I’d love a scene where the moon summoner catches the contucdor at the winter fete and helps control his mind to get answers)

thank youuuu

SWEET ANON! i want to preface this with an apology, because it took me so long to write... and it is... a very long piece of writing. i hope it meets the mark though. it might be one of my personal faves that i've written. i love u <33

AS ALWAYS, PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS <333333

warnings: canon typical violence, some angst

word count: 10.5k

The Dark Side of The Moon (aleksander morozova x fem! moon summoner! reader)

READ PART TWO HERE

He needed you.

No, he didn’t need you, he reasoned with himself. He just… really wanted you.

His hands were still in position, but The Cut he intended to use was long forgotten and faded. You stood behind him and he gaped at you from over his shoulder. You looked as lovely as ever, but even more so now that power was thrumming just underneath your skin, so freshly used.

The Fjerdan that had been a part of the ambush on the road back to Os Alta, lay over Alina with a smoking, gaping hole blown through his chest.

The girl pushed the body off of her in a panicked manner, and you dashed past the Black General and grabbed onto both of her hands to pull her to her feet gently.

“Breathe, breathe, Sankta Alina. You are safe.” You assured her and she stared up at you with wide eyes.

“Who are you?” She asked, almost belligerently.

You opened your mouth to answer her question and General Kirigan let out a low hum from behind the two of you.

“Yes, Lady y/n. Who are you, indeed?” He asked, walking towards you as if you were simply his prey.

He couldn’t help the glee that settled in his stomach when he looked at you and Alina. His Sun Summoner had finally been found. He could have gotten by with just her. And then there you were.

His Moon Summoner of legend. No one knew for certain if there was to be a Moon Summoner one day or if it was just tales of a desperate man, but The Black Heretic knew for certain that now he was indefinitely unstoppable.

“Are you insane, General Kirigan?” You asked angrily and he came back to the present moment to see that you’d wrapped your arms around Alina’s shoulders and pulled her against your chest while she let out sighs of distress.

You weren’t taller than the girl, if anything you were a few inches shorter, and this was an amusing sight for him to watch. You snapped a few times in his direction and you shook your head.

“You could’ve gotten her killed! Why didn’t you ride off alone with her?” You demanded and then you let go of the girl and rubbed your forehead, “Saints, Kirigan. She’s the Sun Summoner.”

You and him had always gotten along nicely, truth be told. You posed as the Queen’s Lady in Waiting, and whenever there were large events that the General would attend, you two often had friendly conversations. But you weren’t really just the Queen’s Lady in Waiting. And The General knew this. You served as the King’s personal assassin.

You’d never had to do much more than keep an eye on the man, thankfully, because in instances like that, you’d have to use your power. The power you tried to keep hidden.

When The King had heard word of the Sun Summoner being brought to the Capital, he’d sent you off to make sure that she and the General and his Grisha made it home safely.

He was right for that evidently.

The General didn’t seem to like your outburst and he approached the two of you and he reached up to twist a bit of your hair around his finger curiously. Silver strands glowed in the aftermath of your vicious outburst of power and he dropped the piece of your hair.

“Were you ever going to tell anyone that you are the Moon Summoner?” He asked slowly and you felt Alina’s eyes on your face.

You glanced up at the girl in front of you and then over your shoulder at Kirigan and you shook your head.

“No. Because I didn’t want to just be a saint. I’m much more than that, as you can see.” You said quietly and he hummed.

“Indeed you are, Lady y/n.” He said lowly and then he nodded to Alina, “She rides with me. Did you ride here on a horse?” He asked.

You gave him a nod and pointed at a white horse in the distance, speckled with grey.

“Excuse me? Can someone please explain what’s going on here?” Alina asked desperately and the two of you turned to her.

He beat you to answer her and he held his hand out for Alina, waiting for her to tentatively grab onto it.

“I have found my two lovely Saints now. All is right in the world.” He said with a grin and you felt a sense of unease in your stomach upon seeing his toothy grin.

The ride back to Os Alta was mostly silent. You had gone off ahead of the two on your horse, determined to get to the Capital as quickly as you could so that you could hurry yourself up to the Queen and spend the rest of the day in hiding. You knew what would happen if you ever revealed yourself. You’d be thrown to the wolves. Everyone would know your name, everyone would want to use you. From a young age, you’d learned to keep your powers a secret, and to only practice them alone.

As soon as your horse rode up onto the gravel path in front of the Little Palace, you jumped from your still moving horse and you gathered your cloak up and quickly ran towards the Grand Palace. You stumbled inside and slammed the doors behind you, despite guards trying to filter out to get outside to meet the General and the Sun Summoner. You pushed your way through a few guards until you got to the grand staircase and bustled up the marble stairs.

Once in the hallway, you smoothed down your riding clothes and walked quietly towards the King’s study. You tapped the door before you opened it and you stood in the doorway, peering in at the King and Prince Vasily who sat inside. You bowed your head respectfully and cleared your throat.

“Your Grace, I’ve delivered them safely. There were Fjerdans, just as you predicted, my Prince.” You reported and the two men nodded their heads.

“Thank you, My Lady. Please. Clean yourself up and return yourself to my mother’s side at once.” Vasily ordered and you didn’t protest.

Within the hour you’d gotten yourself thoroughly cleaned up and dressed with the help of a few servants, and you faithfully returned to your Queen’s side.

You didn’t mind the Queen. Not at all, really. She was a bit of an airhead and as vain as can be, but you much preferred her company to her husband’s or even Vasily. You didn’t even mind Nikolai, though you hadn’t seen the boy in many, many years.

You sat in silence next to the Queen for most of the afternoon as she had tea and read through her books, and you felt relieved to be away from the Grisha. Away from Alina Starkov. Away from General Kirigan.

Just as the thought of all three had slipped your mind, The General begged for your attention once more and you and the Queen both turned your head to the doorway of the Library to see Kirigan standing there. He bowed his head respectfully to the queen and he bent his knee ever so slightly.

“My Queen. May I steal your lovely Lady away for just a moment or two?” He asked, and the Queen raised an eyebrow.

“Why? What business do you have with her?” She asked and you wanted to swear under your breath. He was going to tell her, surely.

The reveal didn’t come, and instead, he gave a simple excuse.

“I think Miss Starkov needs someone kind and.. well… perhaps non Grisha to speak to. This new life must be hard for her and it’s even harder when there’s only reminders trying to soothe you.” He explained calmly, but you could see the way his fingers fidgeted behind his back from how his forearms flexed underneath his kefta.

“I suppose. Have her back by the time we finish dinner please.” She requested and the General nodded once and held his hand out for you.

“After you, Lady y/n.” He said primly.

You looked down at the Queen miserably and stood up. You held the skirts of your dress up off of the ground as you strode towards Kirigan, and you politely took his arm.

He led you away from the library, and as soon as you were out of earshot of the Queen, he cleared his throat.

“So. I believe a discussion is in order about your… abilities.” He said slowly and you shook your head.

“No. I don’t want to talk about them. I want you to forget about them. Please. They’re mine and mine alone.” You said softly.

Kirigan placed a hand at the small of your back and he very gently nudged you towards the doors that would take you outside to the Little Palace.

“You are a gift to this world, y/n. Why hide it? You, Alina, and I could accomplish so much. We could tear down the fold, we could further expand it, we could bring the sun and the moon down to touch the earth. Yet you deny Ravka of these wonders. Why?” He asked and stepped outside with you. He carefully guided you down a small set of stairs and you shrugged.

“I don’t know,” you said cautiously. Or perhaps it was fearfully. You weren’t sure.

“Well, you’d be doing a great service to this great country by embracing who you are meant to be… what was it you called Alina? Ah yes. Sankta y/n.” He finished and you shuddered at the sound of it.

There was power dripping from the title he gave you and you would be lying if you said it didn’t appeal to you somewhat. But you quickly shook the thought away from your head and instead decided to become fascinated with a fraying bit of lace on the bodice of your dress.

“I don’t know, General.” You finally replied as the two of you walked into the Little Palace.

“You’re destined for great things, my Moonbeam.” He said softly and then took one of your hands in his, stopping you in the middle of an empty hallway, “You don’t have to agree, but I would encourage you to accept your Grisha side and come here to train with Alina. We three are destined for something ethereal.” He said gently and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

Little butterflies erupted in your stomach and your mouth was suddenly dry.

“I’ll think about it.” You whispered, and he brushed a thumb over your cheek as he pulled his hand away from your hair

“Good girl. I know you’ll make the right decision.

Whether it was the right decision or not, you did in fact choose to join Kirigan. When you told him, he was elated. In his own way. His dark eyes gleamed proudly and he had taken you by the hand and promised you greatness, and truthfully, you believed he’d deliver.

But training was simply kicking your ass.

You knew how to handle your powers, that wasn’t hard. But to advance them and use them in ways you’d never even imagined? That was hard.

Typically, you’d spend most of your time around Kirigan as he insisted that he was best to train you, but sometimes you were stuck going down to the training yard or to Baghra.

Baghra was a woman full of disdain and had a certain distaste for you, it seemed. Sometimes it was as if she was trying to scare you away from your training entirely.

Like right now, for instance.

You sat with your legs crossed in a shabby little wooden chair while the old woman paced the room in silence. You wanted to ask her what she was pacing for, but you didn’t want to face her wrath. So you instead watched her go back and forth, like a slow, unsteady pendulum.

Finally her eyes met yours and she stopped moving, her thin lips becoming even thinner as she pursed them together.

“I’m no longer sure what to do with you, admittedly.” She said, her words slow and well thought upon.

You arched an eyebrow curiously and she only shrugged and sat across from you, folding her bony hands properly across her lap.

“You know what you’re doing. That’s more than Alina can say. But you aren’t great. You won’t hardly be successful or powerful. Do you know why?”

You didn’t verbally ask her to tell you why. You only leaned forward a bit and held your hands out questioningly.

She tutted at you and then she leaned back a bit in her chair.

“You’re doing this for all the wrong reasons, so when you’re faced with the reality of the situation, you are no longer motivated to use your power accordingly. I think that would have a lot to do with The General, wouldn’t you think so?” She asked, almost accusingly.

“The finger pointing is a bit juvenile, isn’t it, Baghra?” You asked in a flat tone, “If you have an accusation to make, best be direct.”

It was her turn to cock an eyebrow now and she let out a little scoff.

“Alright then, little girl, let me be frank. You are doing this because of your attraction to the General. Not because you want to tear down The Fold. Alina may not be good with her power yet, but make no mistake; she wants only to liberate this country. What do you want? A moment of approval from a man? A pat on the head like a kitten?”

You slowly rose from the chair and you towered over the woman, shaking your head, your jaw setting tersely.

“Preposterous. You cannot possibly fathom why I am doing this.”

“Correct, girl. I cannot fathom what motivates you. I never claimed to. All I claimed to know is what you’re doing it for. Tell me this: do you believe that this will bring you the affection you crave?”

You stared her down incredulously before you shook your head.

“This is absurd. I am leaving.” You snapped and turned sharply.

You stormed towards the door, your fingertips vibrating just slightly, and when you looked down, silvery light made your skin light up ever so slightly. You grit your teeth and pushed open her door and walked out, making sure to slam it behind you.

You didn’t crave his affection. You didn’t want a pat on the head.

You walked off up to the courtyard, lost in angry thought.

Come to think of it though, The Fold had hardly crossed your mind during the weeks of training you’d been subjected to. Kirigan never spoke of it when you two were together. Most of the time you’d spent with him was just… casual conversation between two friends. Sometimes he’d give you his hand and allow you to mess around with your power with the aid of his amplification.

But otherwise, it wasn’t much else more.

You slowed your steps until you were stopped entirely near the doors to the Little Palace and you blinked a few times.

There was no way that Baghra was right. But she wasn’t really wrong, either.

Why were you doing this?

That was the question that kept you up that night.

You laid in your bed across the hall from the Queen’s room and you tossed and turned for the whole two hours you were laying down.

Your mind raced relentlessly, replaying what Baghra had earlier said, her words echoing like church bells in your head.

You groaned frustratedly and you pushed yourself up out of bed and reached out in the dim light of the moon to grab onto your robe that hung from one of the posts on your bed. You tossed it around your shoulders and slid your arms into the thin sleeves and tied it up tightly. You moved your hair over one shoulder and slid on a pair of flat, slipper-like shoes, and you rushed out of your bedroom.

You’d go wake Alina. That’s what you’d do. Talk to her about this entire thing, hear what she would have to say about it. You sighed quietly and walked down through the winding halls of the Grand Palace until you reached the double doors that led out to the Little Palace. You padded out over the grounds and you glanced around cautiously, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you finally got inside of the Little Palace, you walked determinedly down the hallway towards Alina’s room before you stopped at a crossroads. There was hardly any light in the halls at this time of the night, yet down the hallway that held Kirigan’s room, there was a sliver of light under his door. You glanced back at the hallway that would take you to Alina and you thought for a moment before you turned and walked hurriedly through a hallway.

You didn’t even think or have half the mind to knock before you pushed open the doors to General Kirigan’s room.

If the much taller man was surprised to see you intruding in his room, he didn’t make any indication of such a feeling. Instead, he just eyed you from his position, bent over his war table. You took a step inside his room and closed the doors behind you, letting out a long sigh.

“Do you do this often to The Royal Family? Or are unannounced intrusions reserved for me?” He asked and then looked back down at his table.

When you didn’t answer, he flickered his dark eyes back up to you and looked you up and down a few times, and suddenly you felt very naked underneath his gaze, despite being clothed.

“I just… I…” you trailed off and suddenly felt very foolish to barge into his personal chambers without so much as a knock and you looked down at the ground.

“You just what?” He demanded, but his tone wasn’t harsh. Only curious.

“I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know. I intended on rousing Alina but I don’t know what happened. I just… found myself here.” You answered, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

He continued to stare at you for a while and then he shook his head once, reaching out to beckon you forward.

“Well. Are you going to stand by the doors for the remainder of the night? Come join me over here.” He suggested and you slowly made your way across the floor to him.

You felt a pang of nervousness in your chest. A new feeling around him. Usually you felt much more at ease around The Darkling, but now you just felt so small.

You finally rounded the table to stand at his side, and you met his eyes which had followed you from the door to his side.

“Would you like me to make you some tea?” He asked and reached out to twist a piece of your hair around his finger, a habit that he had made within the last few weeks.

“No, I don’t think that would help much. But thank you.”

He looked down at you and he let out a sigh, “I am not sure why you came to me, then. I cannot lull you to sleep, my sweet moonbeam.”

His words sent you fumbling for your own and you blinked a few times. You only shrugged in lieu of speaking and looked down at his war table.

You watched him lift his arm out of your periphery and nearly jumped when you felt his hand gently touch the side of your face. He carefully turned your face towards his and he cradled your face against his palm. His touch was gentle, and you wondered if he’d ever been this delicate with anything in his life before.

“Would you like that? Is that why you came to me? Did you want me to lull you to sleep? Soothe all your worries away?” He asked slowly.

Though his words could easily have been mocking, his tone was light and kind and full of something you placed between want and concern.

“I don’t know.” You whispered and nuzzled your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth, “That isn’t really an answer.” He commented.

You knew it wasn’t. And you knew he was far too sharp to think otherwise. You couldn’t fool him, and you knew that. He could read you like an open book, he always could, even when you two were simple acquaintances. But you couldn’t really call yourselves acquaintances now. Could you even say friends?

He trained you often, and much of your time was spent with the General, much more than with the Queen these days. He knew so much about you. Some from being told by you, some from guessing and confirmation from you, but mostly what he knew about you went unspoken. He knew you were lonely, he didn’t need to ask you that. He’d deduced it quickly after your time spent with him.

You only kept your eyes on his nose and his thumb idly brushed back and forth against the side of your cheekbone, the contact making your skin tingle underneath his touch.

You finally closed your eyes and focused on the faint sweeping noises the pad of his thumb made across your skin and a little sigh escaped your lips pleasantly.

“What keeps you awake?” He asked very quietly, and you let out an equally quiet hum.

“Many things. Perhaps I just don’t belong here. I lack purpose. I’m better off how I was before.”

His fingers curled around the back of your head and he pulled you a little bit closer to him.

“You lack no such thing.” He protested.

“Then what is my purpose? To help you tear down The Fold with Alina? To become a living Saint? I don’t want that. I don’t want to become a bedtime story. I was meant for more. I was meant for the things they leave out of bedtime stories.” You whispered and you could’ve sworn you heard his breath hitch.

“Your purpose does not align with the Sun Summoner’s. Indeed you are correct. You were meant for more. She walks in the light. She walks with the light. You wait in the dark, you strike from the darkness where no one watches. You and I are more alike than you could ever imagine.” He said just above a whisper, but the quietness of his voice did nothing to conceal the intensity of which he spoke with.

“I don’t know what I am.” You breathed and opened your eyes only to find his just inches away from yours.

“You are the silver flicker of light in the dark and then you are the darkness.” He answered earnestly.

You closed your eyes again, and as soon as you did, you were swept forward into his arms. He pulled your head against the center of his chest and wrapped his other arm around your middle. There was something oddly protective about his embrace and he ran his fingers through the hair at the back of your head.

“Let me lull you to sleep, little one. You need a reprieve from your mind.” He insisted.

You gave him a permissive nod against his chest and he very slowly walked you away from the table and he sunk down into an armchair. He pulled you down onto his lap and he lifted your legs up over the side of the chair. You curled your head against his chest much like a cat and you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, your legs dangling over the side of the chair.

You took in his scent as you buried your face against his clothes and were comforted to find that he smelled of leather and something of embers, and then something sweet yet faint that you couldn’t place.

You opened your eyes when he grabbed one of your arms away from his neck and laid it against your chest before he reached up with the same hand and traced his fingertips against your skin, and a warm feeling washed over you. Everywhere his fingers touched, a silvery blue trail of light followed underneath your skin.

“Sleep, little one.” He cooed and you closed your eyes again, obeying him.

The last thing you remembered before sleep overcame you was his voice above your head, muttering what you recognized as sweet nothings in his native Ravkan tongue.

He had indeed lulled you right to sleep.

In the days after you had fallen asleep on him, The General had been very insistent that you were with him for the majority of your day. He claimed your skill set was of use to him, and truthfully, he was right. Even before you were his Moon Summoner, you were the King’s assassin, and you didn’t need your power for the things you’d accomplished there.

Around his entourage and Corporalki, you were treated as if you were his most esteemed soldier. But behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, his intense and hard demeanor was gone and he was softer with you, kinder. He always had been kind to you, but this was different. It was a different type of kindness.

The morning after you had fallen asleep on him, you awoke in his bed, the black sheets tucked around you with care. He hadn’t been in the bed next to you, but you hadn’t expected that of him. He was an early riser.

You wondered if he had slept next to you at any point during the night. You couldn’t remember. In fact, you didn’t even remember him moving you to his bed. You wanted to ask him if he had, but it seemed listless. Even if he had, it hadn’t mattered. Or did it? Sharing a bed was typically something you only did with someone you trusted, and Kirigan didn’t seem like someone who’d just open his bed up to anyone.

It was the best sleep you’d had in quite a long time, that was for certain.

It was just past noon when you finally emerged from The Grand Palace and made your way to The Little Palace. You had pulled your hair up into an intricate braid and you fiddled with the ends of it as you walked. Once inside, you spotted Alina walking down the hall and you hurried up to her and gently grabbed her arm and gave her a little smile.

She didn’t return the smile, instead she looked anxious and unhappy. You pulled her off to the side and stopped walking, eyeing her with concern.

“Has something happened?” You asked and she sighed, a long sigh that had sounded like it had been pent up for a long time.

“I’ve been informed I’m to showcase my… powers in front of everyone during The Winter Fete.” She said anxiously.

You raised an eyebrow and then shook your head a few times, “Who told you this?” You asked, feeling a bit of frustration. If Alina was to showcase her talents, then surely you’d be asked to as well, and that was specifically not something you wanted to do.

“Kirigan. David, too. Genya. All of them. I don’t want to be presented like a show pony.” She stated and then you sympathetically patted her arm.

“I understand. No one does.” You agreed and she let out a short laugh and pulled her arm away from your gentle grasp.

“Well. Why don’t you work your magic and tell Aleksander to call it off.” She suggested.

You blinked in confusion and then you tipped your head to the side.

“Aleksander? I’m afraid I don’t know an Aleksander.” You replied, eyes searching her face.

“Kirigan. It’s his name. Aleksander. Did he not tell you?” She asked you as if it was one of the most common things to have known.

“No?”

Ouch.

In all the time you’d spent with The General getting closer to him, he’d never once told you his first name. He didn’t talk much about himself, and when he did it was vague, ambiguous. Everything about himself was left up to interpretation.

He liked it that way, you noticed. It left more room for mystery. It kept anyone from crossing the brooding man, because simply no one knew definitely just who he was or just how ruthless or constrained he could be.

“Oh. Well then perhaps don’t mention you heard it from me. I’ve got to get down to Baghra. Please just… do what you are able to about this situation. I am not ready to be a spectacle in front of Ravka.” She pleaded and then walked off.

You stood against the wall for a moment, listening to her footsteps echo until they were gone entirely. An eclectic range of frustrations began to make your fingertips tingle and you pushed away from the wall. You walked with intent to The General’s room, your brow knitting together in annoyance.

His door was the only thing that made you come to a stop and before you could decide against it, you pushed it open and stepped inside of his room.

He didn’t have to look up to know who it was. You were the only one that dared come unannounced, after all.

He sat at his desk on the far end of the room with a thin parchment letter in his hand and he didn’t tear his dark gaze off of the paper as he held his hand out in your direction. He outstretched his pointer and middle fingers and curled them in the air at you in a ‘come here’ motion and you did.

You stomped petulantly towards his desk and you laid your hand down firmly on the desktop with a quiet thump.

Now, you had his full attention. He lifted his inky eyes towards you slowly and he took in your appearance before he slowly laid the letter down.

“You are upset.” He observed and you simply scoffed and folded your arms across your chest.

“What gave it away?”

“Perhaps the stomping like a child. Or maybe it’s the fact that you can’t hide your emotions on your face. Do you intend on telling me why you’re cross? Or did you have another reason for this visit?” He asked and leaned backwards in his chair casually.

“I don’t know, Aleksander. Maybe I just wanted to come in here and pout.” You snapped.

Now it was his turn to fold his arms across his chest and he looked up at you with amusement, the same kind of amusement a parent would watch a fractious child with.

“Ah, you’ve been speaking with Miss Starkov, it seems.”

You stared at him in disbelief. That was it? That was all he had to say? You nearly stomped your foot down on the hard floor but refrained, not wanting his amusement to grow.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me your name as well?” You asked, and you hadn’t realized how stupid you sounded until just now, but you had no intention of backing down at this point.

“Would that have pleased you, lapushka?” He asked with a little grin and you snorted, turning your head away from him.

“I don’t care. It’s your name. You do what you want with it. I just figured perhaps we were closer than that.”

“Why do you figure that? Because you fell asleep in my arms like a little kitten? Or because you woke in my bed?”

You felt your heart drop to your stomach and you turned towards him, a frown covering your lips. You didn’t answer him, you simply stared disdainfully into his caliginous eyes. His words had hit you like a slap across the face, so real that you almost wanted to hold your cheek.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say you were unjust in feeling that way. I just asked if that was your reasoning to figure we were close.” He replied once he realized you weren’t going to speak. He clicked his tongue and rose up from his chair and stalked towards you, reaching out with a hand to grab your chin.

“My ambiguity is one of my greatest layers of armor.” He started.

But you cut him off.

“Right. But you’ll tell the first pretty girl that catches your eye your name and give up that ambiguity. Very selective of you.”

He unfurled his finger from his grip on your chin and he tapped your lips to silence you.

“Sometimes, to soften someone to your liking, you must strip away a piece of your armor. Miss Starkov is apprehensive at best regarding her situation. You require no such softening.” He explained and you took notice of the fact that he hadn’t bothered to move his finger away from your lips.

“You trust me, and for that I am lucky and I am grateful. I needn’t reveal bits of myself to you just to make you trust in me. You simply just do. Little Moon Saint, I don’t need to take off my armors around you. You take them off for me whenever we are alone, whether you realize it or not.”

You shook your head just slightly and gazed up at him, warmth gathering under his touch on your face.

“I know hardly anything about you.” You whispered, “How can I be removing your armor when I know nothing about you still?”

He shushed you and he leaned closer to your face, to where you could feel the air coming softly from his nose and you closed your eyes for a brief second before opening them again.

“Most things about me go unspoken. I like it that way. You don’t need to know my history to know me. You don’t need me to beg you to trust me. You don’t question the deaths caused by my hands, and you know very well I don’t question the lives taken by yours. I told you. We are more alike than you could ever imagine.” He explained, his voice lowering, almost in reverence now, “Everything inside of me wants for you.”

This, you weren’t expecting.

And if that was a surprise to hear, it was even more of a surprise to feel his lips crash down against your own.

The day of The Winter Fete came quickly. Thankfully, Aleksander had shared your sentiments in not wanting to have you display your power for the party. In fact, he was quite adamant on you being a secret kept from the rest of the world away from the palaces. You were thankful for that.

You’d practically been inseparable from him in the weeks since he’d kissed you. He’d kissed you a handful of times in the time since then, too. Somewhere in the realm of the things that went unspoken but were simply known between the two of you, it had become evident that there were strong feelings between both of you.

You hardly shied away from those feelings. If anything you were diving headfirst into them, which it seemed he was doing the same, because he’d insisted a handful of times in the last few weeks that you stay and sleep with him in his room.

You liked to think that you cured his loneliness in the same way he had cured yours but you hadn’t had any confirmation on your daydream.

So, there you sat, perched upon his desk while he nimbly unboxed a long, black gown for you. He held it up for you to see and you hummed approvingly. It was black with threads of dark blue and silver embroidered onto it in swirls and star like patterns. You smiled up at him and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? No kefta for me? Do you think me to be delicate?” You teased and Aleksander let out a slow laugh before he laid the dress down on his bed and walked to you. He gently pulled you off of the desk and turned you around. He undid the buttons on the back of the current dress you wore and he tapped the back of your neck.

“You are anything but delicate. Trust me. As much as I’d like to see you in a kefta, this isn’t the time for you to be revealed. You must keep up appearances, Lady y/n.” He explained and moved back only a step once your dress was undone.

You blushed a bit and held the loose dress up to your chest, hesitating to take off your dress in front of him.

Aleksander sensed this and he placed his hands gently on your elbows, “Would you like me to give you the room so that you can change in privacy?” He asked kindly, brushing his thumbs against your elbows.

You shook your head. It’s not like you really minded, but you still had a set of nerves at the thought of undressing in front of the man you adored.

You let out a very quiet, shaky breath and you let the dress fall away from your shoulders and you slowly stepped out of it, leaving you in only your underwear before him. You didn’t dare turn around, for if you did, Aleksander would’ve seen the horrific blush that covered your cheeks now.

His hands found yours as they lay at your sides and he gently interlocked your fingers before he leaned forward and pressed a gossamer light kiss against the nape of your neck. You shivered under his lips and you could feel them curl into a smug smile against your skin.

“I didn’t take you for the shy type, little one.” He murmured and very slowly lifted his lips away from your neck.

You didn’t respond to him, you simply gave his hands a light squeeze, but much to your dismay, he pulled away and you heard him walk away from you. There was a swish of fabric behind you and then he was back, gently placing a hand on your waist to move you towards him a bit. He didn’t turn you around, and you were thankful for that.

Instead, he reached around you and held your dress in front of you for you to step into it. You were used to being dressed, it was common practice for you and had been for years because of your place at court. But this felt different, and though he was dressing you, you couldn’t help but feel as if Aleksander was at the core of it all, stripping you completely naked. There was a different kind of vulnerability to letting him dress you.

You stepped into the dress and he slowly pulled it up over your hips and you slipped your arms into the sleeves and he lifted the bodice of the dress up over your shoulders completely and pulled it taut before he began to button up the long row of buttons at your back. After the last button was done up, he tied the ribbon at your waist tightly and then he encircled you in his arms from behind, tugging you backwards until you were pulled flush against his chest.

“I wish desperately that I could parade you on my arm all night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a color look so lovely on anyone.” He whispered, resting his chin down against your shoulder.

You leaned the side of your head against his and you placed your hands down on top of his wrists.

“And I wish that you could kiss me breathless in a room, far away from the party, but alas, it seems we have duties to attend to.”

“Such a shame, isn’t it?” He asked playfully and with a hint of reluctance, pulled away from you.

You finally willed yourself to turn around and face him.

A look of reverence crossed his face and he reached out to cup the side of your face in one hand. The look in his lightless eyes was unreadable, but you got the sense his stare was altogether pleasant.

“Tell me something.” He murmured and reached out to brush the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Hmm?”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, though you felt like he was asking something entirely different. The look in his eye told you that he didn’t want to know if you found him to be trustworthy. His words unspoken were louder than the ones he’d verbalized.

No, he meant to ask ‘do you trust me with your heart?’

You searched his face for a long moment before you finally nodded once and you watched as a flicker of relief splashed across his face, and for a second, you swore his eyes sparkled with tears that had been long since blinked away.

He leaned in to kiss your forehead once and he dropped his hand away from your face and walked to the wardrobe next to his bed. He pulled on the rest of his clothing, save for his kefta, and you sunk down on a little sofa next to his bed, pulling your legs up underneath you as you watched him.

He adjusted the collar of his shirt and as he did, the sound of footsteps distracted you from watching the man get ready.

“Ivan. My kefta.” He called out, but once you looked past him, you could see that Ivan was not in the room. Only Alina.

She took his heavy kefta off of his war table and approached him with hesitancy, not saying a word.

When he turned around, his face changed in surprise and he shook his head once.

“You’re not Ivan.” He remarked.

Alina looked down at the kefta in her arms and shifted a bit.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Do I sense a little disdain for my Heartrender?” Aleksander asked, clearly amused now.

You lifted your hand up to rest against the side of the sofa and moved close to the edge, perching yourself to stand.

“You know, once you get to know him, he’s actually quite funny.” He added and you very slowly rose to your feet, your dress swishing.

It didn’t rouse either of their attentions.

“I bet you find volcra hilarious.” Alina quipped, eyes transfixed intently on Aleksander.

He gave her a smile and she nodded to the kefta in her arms.

“May I?” She asked, unfolding the thick garment.

“Thank you.” He replied and turned around, allowing the Sun Summoner to slide the kefta around his shoulders.

You eyed them warily and stayed silent, your teeth searching for a bit of your cheek you could bite down on.

“I hear you were able to focus and split light without the gloves.” He spoke, eyeing you as he got his kefta on with her help.

“I appreciate the gesture, though.” She responded, and you pressed your lips together.

You stepped in front of Aleksander and pulled the lapels of his kefta forward to adjust the coat, your brow furrowing only slightly. You didn’t miss the amused smile that made the corners of his lips curl upwards before he turned back towards Alina.

“Well, they were only a safeguard, really. In case of nerves.” He informed her, and you watched as the girl leaned slightly closer to Aleksander.

Half of you had made peace with the fact that you and Aleksander didn’t make it incredibly public knowledge that you… were together? Was that even the right way to describe your situation? You didn’t know how to answer that. Yet, the other half of you, despite clarification on where you stood with him, wanted to pull him backwards and stand between the two of them. You almost gagged in spite of yourself. Or maybe it was in spite of them.

“I imagine there are few gatherings in Keramzin that involve such… spectacle.” He commented down at her and you wanted to speak up. Make them aware that you were still in the room.

No. Don’t. You told yourself.

“None, in fact.” Alina answered.

She peered over his shoulder and caught your eyes. You weren’t sure of what your face looked like, but she widened her eyes and quickly moved away from him.

“But I’m actually not that nervous! I may have considered throwing myself down the stairs to get out of it once or twice.” She left his bed chambers and much to your antipathy, he followed her.

You stood back for a moment as they continued to chat before you gathered the skirts of your dress and walked through the doorway of his bed chambers and brushed past the two of them, squaring your shoulders as you passed by. You slipped out of the room with a sigh of annoyance and you walked down the hallway. You listened to the taps of your boots against the marble floors and you puffed out your cheeks.

Jealousy wasn’t something that came naturally or easily to you. You’d always been sure of yourself, aware that you were likely the prettiest face in the room, confident in your abilities and powers. You were almost sick to admit that perhaps you were jealous of Alina.

She got to be by his side tonight. She got to wear a kefta just like him. She got to be shown off to the rest of the world as Ravka’s saving grace.

You didn’t want that for yourself. Not really. But you didn’t want it for her, either, selfishly.

Did you even have a right to feel jealous? It’s not like Aleksander had explicitly said that you were his and he was yours. You felt fair in assuming such, but then again, you’d always been a little too sure of yourself.

You simply shook the thought away and headed off to report to the Queen.

“Oh, it’s nothing, moya tsaritsa. Only a little headache. I’ll be off to find a healer and back to the party before you know it.”

Lie.

You felt bad lying to the Queen as you rose from your seat next to her and scurried out of the room. You’d made yourself scarce all day, with the exception of being with the Queen, and you planned on keeping the pattern.

You just didn’t want to watch Aleksander and Alina.

You walked out to the courtyard and weaved around horses and guests until you were on the outskirts of the palace grounds. You were thankful that you could finally breathe without sharing the breath with someone else in your proximity. The cool evening’s air swirled around what skin of yours was exposed and it chilled your cheeks, tinting them pink. You flexed your fingers a bit and tapped imaginary points in the air at your sides, little fissures of silvery light appearing underneath your fingertips.

You tried your best to be apathetic about everything that you’d felt during the day, and you kept walking, approaching a thick bramble of trees.

A loud scream escaped your lips when you felt a cold hand clasp around your wrist and you yanked your wrist back, stumbling backwards on the uneven path. You fell back and caught yourself on your elbows, preparing your hands to summon the moon. Your eyes settled upon a head of white hair and you furiously widened your eyes.

“Baghra!” You yelled and looked down at your dress. It was dusty from the dirt and you could feel a little tear in your sleeve, just above your elbow, “What is the meaning of this?” You asked angrily.

You climbed to your feet and stared down at the old woman, your lips tugging downwards in a heavy frown.

“Don’t look at me like that, girl. You need to get away from here as quickly as you can.” She stated venomously and you gaped at her. You shook your head with a dry laugh and you went to speak but she cut you off instantly.

“You are being used, you stupid girl. Aleksander. He is using you. Just the same way he is using the sun girl. I am warning you, y/n, please. You must go. I will tell her the same thing but hear me now-“

“What are you going on about?” You asked snappily, your eyes narrowing on her.

“You and Alina Starkov are but pawns in Aleksander’s game. He does not mean to liberate Ravka from The Fold. He does not mean to create heroes out of the three of you. Has he promised you otherwise?”

“No. He hardly speaks of The Fold to me.” You replied defensively. Your hand formed fists at your side and you could feel your fingers begin to thrum with the electric feeling of the moon pooling within them.

“No? Perhaps he’s just too busy distracting you with sweet words and little touches? Keeping you from your lessons, insisting you don’t need them, only to drown you with his attention. Making you feel special and perhaps even loved?”

You didn’t respond, and your silence became her indication to keep speaking.

“Trust me, stupid girl. He’s making Alina feel the same exact way.” She finished and then she shook her head, “Do what you will, Lady y/n. You’ve always known this to be your home. I understand it must be hard to fathom leaving, but if you want to live free of chains, you’ll go. I’ve arranged safe passage out of Os Alta tonight. If you wish to join Alina, then you’ll meet her and I down the hill behind The Grand Palace. Half past midnight.”

You stared at her in disbelief and you wanted to argue, but she had already turned and retreated back into the trees, and you swore that you watched shadows engulf her.

You were only human at your very core.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you cried into your hands on your balcony. Only human at your very core… right?

Who knew if Baghra was right? At least about Aleksander’s intentions. This isn’t what bothered you.

“He’s making Alina feel the same exact way.” Her words echoed in your head and only made you cry harder, and you let out a frustrated groan and you hit the side of your head with the heel of your hand, as if the impact would knock the thought right out of your mind.

It would explain her behavior earlier that day. It would easily explain how she, too, knew his name- and before you. It explained the way she gazed up at him; dreamily, as if she’d fallen head over heels already.

You weren’t going to leave Os Alta, that was for certain. You couldn’t. You adored your Queen and you hadn’t known a life outside of the Ravkan Capital. You’d just learn to avoid Aleksander. Perhaps that was a good thing. It would cease your distractions from the Queen and King.

“I’ve never seen you cry before. I don’t like it.”

You jumped at the sound of Aleksander’s voice behind you and you wrapped your arms around yourself and you shook your head.

“Go away please.” You whispered.

You didn’t really want him to go away. Not deep down, at least. He probably knew that, too. He knew you better than anyone.

Hands gently grabbed your arms and coaxed you away from the iron railing of your balcony and you were being turned around before you could protest it. You didn’t meet his eyes when you were moved to face him.

“I have been made aware that Baghra sought you out. I don’t know what was said, but I’m sure I can only assume it had something to do with planting doubt in your mind based on the way she was sure you’d have run far away from here by now. But you aren’t a runner. I know that.”

His words made more tears spill over your cheeks and you still refused to look at him until he tapped underneath your chin and tilted your head backwards slightly.

“I care not about your intentions with The Fold, Aleksander. I said I trusted you and I meant it. Perhaps that’s where I went wrong though. Because I do care that you were stringing me along at the same time as Alina. If you needed something of me, it would’ve been best to lay it out on the table. Not bury me in your sweet kisses and words until I was nothing but a mindless slave with no questions for you.”

“Is that what you believe you are to be to me? A mindless slave?” He asked and you simply shrugged.

You expected an angry outburst, you expected him to chastise you loudly, but it never came. Instead, he took your face in his hands and he swiped his thumbs underneath your wet eyes to rid you of the tears on your cheeks.

“You are strong and you are intelligent. No one could make a mindless slave out of you. Not even I. My kisses and gentle words are reserved for you and you alone. Not Alina. Never Alina. You, however. Oh, how do I begin? Ever since I watched you kill that Fjerdan, I knew that I had to have you by my side. One way or another. Though, as a lover was preferable.

You are disarming in the most wonderful way, and though you may not know all of my secrets yet, you have already released them from their chambers. I’m tempted to call you a thief with the way you’ve stolen my heart away, but if I’m to be honest with you, y/n, I’d be lying if I said I didn't hand it to you willingly.” He murmured earnestly. His eyes shone with his own tears, and though they never fell, the message was still there.

You fell forward over his chest and laid your head on the center of it and his arms weaved around you protectively. Defensively. Adoringly.

He showered kisses atop your head and you two stood in silence for a very long time like that.

Perhaps you’d be burned for trusting him this way. In every way. Perhaps you wouldn’t. Only time would tell. But in that moment, all that mattered was that he was there. Questions about Baghra’s words could wait. They weren’t meant to be spoken now. No words were meant to be spoken now.

Until he did finally speak.

“My love, I do hate to ruin such tender moments, but I’m in desperate need of your help. There will be plenty of time for me to make up for every single tear spilled from your pretty eyes this evening, and that I promise you. However, your skill set is needed.” He said softly, his tone apologetic.

You stayed against his chest for a while longer and then finally nodded, “Of course. Whatever you need, Aleksander.”

You walked hand in hand with The Darkling down the candlelit hallway, deep within the Palace, and you two were accompanied by one of his Squallers, Zoya.

Aleksander had filled you in quickly. Alina had been kidnapped and there had been an attempt on her life. You couldn’t help but feel relieved that you hadn’t been the one on his arm all night now. They now held a man associated with the crime deep underneath the Palace, and they needed him to talk.

That’s where you came in.

“Has he talked?” He asked, his hand tightening around yours in a manner you could only imagine was protective.

“A lot of lies,” Zoya answered, “Ivan’s with him.”

You entered the room with him and Zoya and your eyes fell upon Ivan’s intimidating figure standing tall behind a small, pudgy man who was bound to a chair.

“I’ve been swindled,” The man said simply, desperation twinging his words, “hoodwinked.”

Aleksander didn’t seem to care and he squeezed your hand once more.

“My guards tell me that they caught you fleeing the scene of the crime.” He spoke.

You rolled your shoulders back and stood tall, carefully releasing your hand. If you were to get answers out of this man, he had to fear you. You didn’t much command fear while clutching your General’s hand.

“Yes. I followed them.” The man insisted.

“Followed whom?” Aleksander prompted, lifting his head curiously.

“They come from the other side of The Fold. From the start, they seemed, just, a bit off to me, so when they left our stage, at the fete, I followed them. To see what they were up to, and at the time that I walked into that room, they were gone and… Saints, it was… unspeakable. So I ran… I…”

You snorted and then you stepped forward, “No, that’s not the truth.” You interjected and then looked to Ivan with a raised eyebrow.

“He did cross The Fold with the others,” Ivan began, “The rest were lies.”

You gave a satisfied nod and you looked up at Aleksander who swept his hand out for you, inviting you to step closer to the man.

The man began to insist that he wasn’t lying, but you and everyone else in that room knew, you couldn’t lie to a Heartrender.

You stepped behind the man and you laid your hands on his temples, “Do you want to tell the truth to The General?” You asked lowly. He didn’t respond.

“Do you know we keep records of everyone who crosses The Fold?” Aleksander began, and then rattled off the known passages for the evening.

“You didn’t cross with them. Did you?” You asked, leaning down close to his ear.

He shuddered but he didn’t answer. You looked up at Aleksander who nodded and you closed your eyes. Your fingertips began to glow and they grew so cold that they burned, you pressed them tightly against the man’s skin and he clenched his teeth. You eased off a bit and then cleared your throat.

“You have another way across The Fold. What is it?” You asked slowly.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He protested, but Ivan cut him off.

“He does.”

You sighed and brought forth your power again, this time a bit more and he winced sharply as the bitter cold from your fingers cut into his skin and left it frostbitten.

“I’m an entertainer!” He exclaimed, “Oskar, Oskar Krepkov!” He shouted as you pushed more of your light forth, watching his veins turn white and stony underneath your touch, just as they’d been filled with moonstone.

You eased off when Aleksander came towards the two of you and lifted up the man’s sleeve.

“Well that is certainly entertaining. You are The Conductor,” he said darkly, revealing scars of tallies up his inner forearm, “Arken Visser, are you not?“ he pulled away from the man and gave you a nod again as he walked away.

“You smuggle Grisha out of my palace! You help them abandon the war effort.”

“No, I deal in-“ he was cut off by a sudden sharp pain in his head, caused by you pressing the heels of your hands to the hardened veins over his temples. You closed your eyes tightly and worked to spread the unforgiving cold of your light through his head, feeling it spread through his veins while Aleksander questioned the man about a woman named Nina.

You zoned back in as Aleksander finished, and you opened your eyes to look up at him.

“…might that have something to do with you, Mr. Visser?” He asked, in reference to Nina’s disappearance.

“No.” He answered shakily, his teeth now beginning to chatter. You were lowering his body temperature by now surely, and his lips began to glaze over, tinted with blue.

“I don’t!” He protested again, his voice shaky. Ivan confirmed this and the man let out a shaking sigh, “See?”

“May I interject?” You asked and looked up at Aleksander who nodded once.

“By all means, Darling. Speak your mind.” He said with a little grin licking at the corners of his lips.

“You might want to begin talking, Mr. Visser. Your heart is slowing and you are freezing from the inside out. The light of the moon is a cold one.” You whispered and you felt him stiffen under your hands.

Aleksander had a proud smirk on his face and he glanced back down at Arken.

“My guess, you struck a deal with these three thieves to kidnap Alina Starkov. But you have a stronger relationship with a certain West Ravkan general, who has notions of ruling his own country. So long as The Fold separates him from us- darling, I think you’re being too gentle with him,” he added for you, and then walked around the chair, brushing past you gently, “So you made another deal. You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin.”

You took a deep breath and summoned more of your power, the beams of light from your hands beginning to sear into the skin of his temples.

“That’s right!” He cried, in obvious pain, “The prize to bring her back to Ketterdam was a million! Split four ways. But Zlatan offered me the same number… to kill her, so,” he let out another scream as you tightened your grip on his head and Aleksander’s eyes widened, “you give me half that, I’ll get revenge for you. I can get close to Zlatan!” He tried to bargain, but he didn’t have much left to bargain with.

Aleksander looked at Ivan and Zoya pointedly and they began to walk away.

“No.” Aleksander answered and then looked up at you, “I think I’ll handle that myself. And I think… I’ll let my lovely Moon Summoner handle you.”

He gave you a short nod and stood with his hands behind his back and you nodded back at him.

Arken began to scream and protest between the chattering of his teeth and you rolled your shoulders back, and just like the Fjerdan that attacked Alina, you shot a bright beam of silver light through his temples and let go, watching as his head fell back limply on his neck.

Aleksander stepped towards you just as you stepped away from the now dead man, and he grasped your freezing wrists, pulling you to his chest.

“Promise me,” he began, leaning down close to your face, “Promise me that you’ll stand by my side forever. We will be revered, formidable. I will give you a crown, I will give you my love, I will give you whatever you ask for, if you promise me forever.” He pleaded and stared down into your eyes desperately.

There was nothing that you wanted more in that moment and you studied his black eyes for a long time, searching for any sense of trickery within them, but all you found was the same want that you wore within your own eyes.

Perhaps you’d be burned for trusting him this way. In every way. Perhaps you wouldn’t. Only time would tell. All you could do was accept his offer now, and give him your payment in the form of three words.

“I promise. Forever.”

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #general kirigan #grishaverse #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling #the darkling imagine #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes x reader

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deckersfield · 1 year

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Things i’d like to see in a soc spin-off

young matthias and trassel

wylan - kuwei drama bc i just think it’s hilarious plus i love kuwei that little shit <333

wylan singing in fjerdan to distract the guards and nina singing to inej

“my ghost won’t associate with your ghost”

inej naming her knives to calm herself

ALYS!

“i’m right here father”

“scheming face?” “definitely”

wesper going to the university to meet jesper’s dad and them going to see wylan’s mom

“he’ll never trade if you break me” followed later by “i would come for you. and if i couldn’t walk i’d crawl to you” absolute pain but we need to see it

mattias seeing nina dressed in fjerdan clothes

more ninej!!!

wylan, jesper and inej STEALING A FUCKING TANK + kaz smiling like an idiot

“that’s the laugh”

wylan and kaz falling through the ceiling at van eck’s house, if i never get to see this scene i might die

jesper and kaz cat fighting

chapter 26 of ck chapter 26 of ck chapter 26 of ck chap-

kaz’s dry ass humour

proper deep dive on everyone’s backstory and trauma!!

wyvil and more of wylan being a goddamn menace to society

matthias and his mini grisha army

nina and matthias burying a grisha together bc i think it’s a very important moment for them

kaz threatening a child ????

“i’d like to make a down payment”

“merchling”

wylan spitting in his father’s face, what an icon

“who’s mark?”

kaz calling nina “dear” or “love”

nina raising the dead

there’s so much more but i’ll leave it like this

#six of crows #wylan van eck #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #crooked kingdom #nina zenik #matthias helvar #inej ghafa #grishaverse #soc

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heliads · 4 months

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because I'm in the mood for Pain could i request a nikolai fanfic with a grisha reader. they were childhood friends, but then one day reader was captured by fjerda and after they find the cure for parem they come back to ravka and don't think they're good enough for nikolai because they were too weak to resist the drug. i hope you're having a lovely day!

'only in my dreams ' - nikolai lantsov

masterlist

There’s an old saying, one that’s been tossed around by generations of practitioners of the Small Science and otkazat’sya alike, one that you’ve heard since you were small and keep hearing as you get older. There’s no good place to be a Grisha. It’s been used as a weapon and an assurance at times, a claim that you don’t belong and a reminder that life doesn’t really get better, so you might as well enjoy who you are wherever you are.

Right now, though, it just feels all too real. When you were a child growing up in the middle of nowhere in the Ravkan countryside, no one trusted a Grisha. When you were brought to Os Alta to train in the Little Palace, the glimmering city didn’t feel like a home either, just a place where you would be brought up to fight in someone else’s wars. You could go anywhere you want, but it would never quite be enough. You find your home in people you trust, but no place will ever want a witch.

And, rotting in a Fjerdan cell, you think it’s especially true now. You pity the Grisha who were born in Fjerda, and wonder how they would have managed to grow up in a country whose own army was dedicated to the cause of hunting them down. It wasn’t all that great to grow up empowered in Ravka, either, but at least there was somewhere for you to go once you were discovered, and that was the Little Palace. In Fjerda, the only place that newly discovered Grisha go is the grave.

That, or the cells, and right now you’re wishing that you were six feet under instead of here right now. Other than wanting them dead, the Fjerdan government seems fascinated by just how Grisha work. They’ve managed to get their hands on jurda parem, and you’re a part of their latest batch of test subjects.

You last received the drug a few days ago, and already the debilitating ache of withdrawal is starting to press against your bones, tearing against your sinews and skin until all you can think of is when you last had it and where you could get some more. The Fjerdan scientists are single-minded in their approach to treating Grisha with parem; exact doses are carefully measured out and only delivered in the precise windows of time that they desire. Once medicated, the captive Grisha will have their hands unchained for slim opportunities to practice their gift, most likely to build or destroy or torture other captives as directed by the Fjerdan guards.

Eventually, the parem will wear off, and then you’ll be back to where you are right now: curled into a corner of your freezing cell, desperate for warmth or parem or anything more than this heavy, never-ending horror.

You used to be more than this, you know. You used to be a proper Grisha, one who could never imagine themselves as you are now, exhausted and starving and addicted to a drug no one even knew existed until just a short time ago. You had been brought to Os Alta when you were quite young, so for the most part, the Little Palace was the only life you had ever really known.

And what a life it had been; your mind drained by the constant tests of parem, you slip into a dreamy half-sleep, letting the memories cloud your consciousness so you don’t have to think about whatever horrors await you.

Os Alta had been beautiful. Ravka has been a struggling country for quite some time, and will likely go on eking out its days one by one for quite some time, but the royal family spared no expense on its capital city. Even the Little Palace, the smaller and humbler variant of the Grand Palace, was intricate and masterful, a testament to the artistic prowess of the Ravkan people when its creators went long enough without hunger pangs to focus on their craft.

You can almost imagine you’re there if you close your eyes. The sensations come back to you as if in a dream: the rustle of your kefta as you walk, the smooth edges of the cobblestones where they’d been worn down by hundreds of feet, the sharp voices of your tutors, the thrill in your veins as you used your powers. You can still remember when it had been a joyous thing to use your powers uncorrupted by parem. Now, every tug to the making at the heart of the world feels like a betrayal of your own people, a sick and terrible thing that should not be practiced by any living thing.

You turn your mind away from that harsh reality, opting instead to remember the good days, the golden memories when the worst thing you could imagine was doing badly in one of Botkin’s training sessions. Since you’d been at the Little Palace since you were small, you had plenty of friends across the branches of the Small Science, plus one extra boy whose eyes used to shine like sunlight off of the True Sea. He wasn’t a Grisha though. He was–

He was a prince.

Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t supposed to visit the Little Palace. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to leave the Grand Palace at all except when instructed by the king and queen or one of his tutors. However, the young prince didn’t seem to care for rules, and rare was the day when he wasn’t sneaking off to pass days by his own volition. More often than not, his errant path brought Nikolai to you.

The two of you had been friends for years. Never mind the fact that a friendship between a Grisha and a prince would be strictly forbidden, no one ever caught on and the two of you were quite obliged to keep it that way. Nikolai was brilliant in mind and spirit. When you think about the happiest you’d ever been, the days you wished could stretch on forever, it’s the time you spent with Nikolai that was the best of all. Sometimes, you snuck him an extra kefta and the two of you would explore the Little Palace, or you’d run around the countryside surrounding Os Alta. You’d swap stories and little trinkets or gifts, and you’d smile like everything was alright, because when you were with Nikolai, it was.

Then he got older, and you did too. Nikolai stopped being able to visit you as often. You grew through the ranks of the Grisha, and were sent on missions with increasing frequency. Sometimes, you’d be away from Os Alta for months at a time, and only come back to find out that Nikolai had just left on a similar errand. Your paths started diverging, and even though every time you saw him, it was like the days hadn’t passed at all, both of you had growing up to do, and unfortunately, that didn’t involve each other.

You still held out hope that maybe he would become king and find a way to loop you back into his busy days. Just recently, he had returned from his years at school (and, as the rumor has it, at sea), and you had hoped that maybe you’d be able to spend more time together. All you had was one more mission, then you’d be back in Ravka for many months. Surely you could use that time.

The Fates didn’t seem keen on that happy of an ending for you, however. Your mission went awry. Fjerdans intercepted your group. You distracted the enemy soldiers long enough for the rest of your party to get away, but you were captured and brought back to Fjerda. You had assumed you’d be killed, but instead, you were sent to their experimental division and given your first dose of parem.

So the angels fall. Now, the idea that you could be remotely close to a prince’s best friend is laughable. If you could see him now, you have no doubt that he would still be the same golden, glorious boy he had always been, now imbued with the confidence of years wearing the crown. By contrast, you are huddled in a cell, your powers harshly amplified by the corrupting influence of jurda parem.

No, Nikolai Lantsov certainly wouldn’t want you now. The only way you can have him still is in your dreams, those beautiful fragments of imagination in which both of you are still young and blameless. He hasn’t fled Os Alta for a false name and a life at sea. You haven’t been captured and forced to undergo cruel tests. Both of you are happy and whole, and nothing bad has ever happened to either of you. What a dream indeed.

A dream, but dreams are all you have. The dream of being back with Nikolai is a good one. So, too, is the dream that someone will come to take you out of this place. You’ve had this one many times before, and it slips over you like sleep. It would happen quickly, the break-out. The Fjerdan guards would shout in surprise, then be quickly silenced. You’d hear the rattle of fast footsteps, and the door to your cell would fly open. All doors would be open, and all Grisha would live. You’d run far away, to a place that would finally want you again. All would be well.

You’re comfortable with it, not bothering to open your eyes lest you lose track of the dream. Only– maybe the parem is still lingering in your system, because you swear the faux sounds of fighters are louder than they usually are in the dreams. It’s not real, but the shouts do seem real, don’t they?

It’s not real. After all, parem has a way of messing with your mind. Many times during your captivity, you’ve thought you’d seen someone from home only to realize differently during the cloudiness of withdrawal. This is the same as that.

However, when the door to your cell clangs open, you feel the reverberations through your skin and bones, something that never happens when the Fjerdans come to get you. Your eyelids fly open and you scramble back against the wall, watching with terrified eyes as soldiers hurry to you. One’s in Ravkan fatigues, but the other is a Healer in a red kefta.

“You’re not real,” you grit out, teeth pressed together.

She shakes her head sympathetically. “I am, my friend. We’ve broken you out at last. Here, I have the cure.”

She holds out a syringe pre-loaded with some sort of substance. You snap back when you see it, too familiar with Fjerdan tricks of trying to inject you with different medicines. “Don’t you dare get that near me. I know what you do.”

The Healer jerks her chin towards you. “Hold her,” she says to the soldier.

You scream, a high, drawn-out sound, and do your best to fight, but your captivity has left you frail, and he’s able to subdue you after minor effort. The Healer pushes the needle into your veins, and you wait for something terrible to happen, another grievous experiment to begin in your body, but the strangest thing happens: you feel better.

You stare up at the Healer. Your mind feels clearer than it has in days, and, impossibly, you can feel your strength returning. “What is that?”

“A cure to jurda parem,” the Healer tells you. “Sincerest apologies that it’s taken this long to get to you.”

You’re guided out into the corridor, where you join the former occupants of the surrounding cells. All of you regard your rescuers and each other with the same incredulity and faint excitement. Is this really it? Are you finally out?

The ride back to Ravka should be long, but it feels as if it’s over in the blink of an eye. Several times, the rescue party stops at safe houses along the way, giving all of you opportunities to wash up, get new, warm clothes, and eat and drink to fix the gnaw of hunger that clings to all of you. By the time the gates of Os Alta swing wide to admit you, you’re almost feeling normal again.

Almost.

The torment of your time in the Fjerdan cells will stick with you forever, and the awful memories of what it had been like to be under the influence of jurda parem. However, the Healer’s cure worked well. When you try to use your abilities, they work the same as they had before the awful drug was first administered to you. By all accounts, you’re back to normal, even if your mind doesn’t entirely feel that way.

The driver calls to your group that you’ll be arriving outside the Little Palace shortly. “King Nikolai will be there to greet you,” he announces over his shoulder.

Excited whispers surround this, and you can’t help but listen in intently. “Nikolai Lantsov will be there?” One girl giggles by your side.

Another smiles in encouragement. “They say he’s been observing each coach that brings back rescued Grisha from Fjerda. It’s like he’s looking for someone. Maybe an old friend?”

You feel your stomach chill, the warm delight of rescue starting to cool off again. You have no doubt that you’re the one Nikolai is looking for; he had told you many times that you were his favorite Grisha by far, even when he was briefly engaged to the Sun Summoner for purely political reasons, but you find yourself hoping he doesn’t find you when you get out of your coach.

It’s not that you don’t want to see him, you do– the idea of being with Nikolai again had sustained you through your time in the Fjerdan cells better even than food or drink, but the fact remains that you are no longer as you were in your memories. You are no longer someone that a king would care to see. More so than just your weakened frame, your disorganized mind– you were captured on a mission, and you succumbed to jurda parem. In the back of your mind, a cruel voice whispers, pathetic. Nikolai will be spending his time with the finest diplomats, the noblest princes and princesses. He will not want a Grisha who could not hold out against a drug.

You gather your borrowed cloak about you, pulling the hood down over your face. It’s a size or two too large for you, by virtue of it belonging to someone else, and right now you’re glad for the extra fabric to disguise you. Nikolai is looking for a ghost, and probably out of necessity. He’ll likely be relieved that he won’t have to handle you like a difficult situation.

The coach pulls to a stop. Many rescued Grisha are crammed inside, so you blend into the crowd as you all pour out. Other Grisha from the Fjerdan prison are there already. It’s easy to slip amongst their ranks, keeping your head down. Nikolai is there in front of you as promised. His head is tilted up slightly, his gaze sweeping row after row of visitors. Maybe he isn’t even looking for you at all.

Then, his eyes catch yours briefly. Immediately, you look away, and start backing through the crowds again, trying to lose his gaze. When you feel it’s safe to look again, you breathe out quiet relief when you notice that he’s still scanning the crowd where you had been. Lost him. It’s a victory, but it’s an awful pain nonetheless.

Once everyone has arrived, Nikolai says a few kind words about how he’s glad everyone has returned home and how apologetic he is about the time it took to get you all back. No one seems to hold it against him, though, and how could you? He rescued you in the end, and managed to get you the cure to jurda parem to boot. It’s a fine success if you’ve ever seen one.

Nikolai releases you to the Little Palace to rest. Grisha stream past Nikolai, but he doesn’t stop to talk to any of them, looking again for someone. For you, maybe. You pull the hood down low again. If you move quickly, maybe he’ll miss you. You give him a wide berth, keeping your eyes low. You’ve almost made it to the edge of the courtyard when you feel a hand rest on your arm, carefully pulling you to a stop.

You don’t look up, not at first. You don’t have to look to know who it is. You’ve known Nikolai for years. You would know how he walks, the precise pattern of his boots against the cobblestones. You would know how the breath hitches in his throat when you’re reunited after too long a separation. You would know how his hand feels on you. You’ve dreamed of it a thousand times, but this isn’t a dream anymore, this is real.

“Excuse me, moi tsar,” you whisper. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s you yet. Maybe you can still escape with your dignity intact.

Any hope you had of avoiding recognition vanishes in an instant when Nikolai murmurs, “Y/N,” in such a desperate voice that you feel you could hardly move if you tried.

You stand still. A strong wind could blow you over, maybe. You watch the ground as Nikolai’s boots cross the ground to stand in front of you. His other hand rises to brush your hood back from your face. A gasp is ripped from his lungs as he takes in the sight of you.

“I look that bad, then, do I?” You can’t help but laugh quietly. It’s a bitter sound. You used to sound happier when you laughed with him, you think. A lot has changed.

Nikolai’s hand leaves your hood, drifting to your face. He raises your chin with a soft finger until you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Not to me,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

A quiet scoff escapes you. “I have been a prisoner of Fjerda for months, moi tsar. I doubt that was conducive to beauty.”

“You’d be surprised,” he tells you. Then, a bit more insistent, “You don’t need to refer to me with a title, Y/N. You didn’t when we were little.”

“I didn’t know better,” you say. It’s not quite true, and he knows it.

“Don’t say that,” Nikolai pleads. “We were friends, excellent friends. Now we’re older and you’re avoiding me. Why?”

You look away again. “Don’t ask me that,” you say with a laugh. You meant it to be a joke, but it comes out as a plea.

“I will,” he insists. “I have always been stubborn, you know that about me. Stubborn enough to search every single Fjerdan prison my spies could find when you went missing. Stubborn enough to stand here and wait in the cold until I could find you. And certainly stubborn enough to wait here with you until you tell me why I’m no longer good enough for you.”

This, at last, is enough to make your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true,” you insist hotly. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re a king and I’m a Grisha. And a Grisha that couldn’t even withstand jurda parem, to be specific. Saints, you win wars and I lost the first one that ever came to me. If there is anyone that has ever been insufficient, it would be me.”

The hand on your arm slips down to your fingers, and Nikolai squeezes once, twice. A heartbeat. A prayer. “You have never been insufficient to me,” he tells you. You make some sound of disagreement and he repeats it, insistent as ever. “No, you listen. You aren’t. Jurda parem is notorious for the pain it causes. You think you lost the war? The fact that you’re still alive in front of me tells me that you won it. Every day since you went missing, I woke up and went to bed terrified that you were dead and I would never know. I need you, sweetheart, and I need you to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

You stay quiet for a while, letting the words turn over in your mind, then, impulsively, you ask, “Sweetheart?”

He grins, easy as always. “It fits you. Don’t argue with me, I’ve had plenty of arguments prepared to convince you otherwise.”

You laugh, and this time, it’s real. “I wouldn’t dare, then. I just would have thought that you’d have plenty of princesses who would have won that nickname for real by now.”

Unable to stop yourself, you cast a glance towards his left hand. No ring. When you look back up at Nikolai, he’s beaming. “No queen for me, I’m afraid. I was waiting for mine to return from captivity.”

You roll your eyes. “Still haven’t given up on that, have you? I seem to remember you trying and failing to convince me to marry you since we were six.”

Nikolai grins, slipping your arm inside his so he can guide you back to the Little Palace. “I will never give up. Not until you say yes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head in mock disbelief. It’s been a while since you saw him. It’s been a while since he asked. If he were to do it again, you think you might have a different answer than when you were both so small.

Nikolai turns to look at you, his eyes shining. He’s always had a gift for knowing what��s on your mind, and judging by the light in his smile, you think he’s predicted your thoughts yet again. He’s got some time before he attempts another proposal. This time, though, he’ll have a better outcome than before.

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