Tumgik
#grisha healer
she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 3 months
Text
Grishaverse knitting update!!
I’ve made one of the sleeves for the Kefta and have started the next one, I need to block the pieces but then they’ll be ready for embroidery.
I promised photo updates of the six of crows book cover blanket but I’ve had to undo the whole thing (took forever bc it’s fair isle 😭) because I screwed up and I might be losing a little bit of yarn as well because it’s all kinda knotted-up and messy but I’m working on it. I’m restarting that tonight so hopefully I’ll be able to update on that with real photos soon but in the meantime this is the pattern that I’ve drawn:
Tumblr media
I’ve never made a pattern before but I basically drew the entire book cover and then superimposed a grid on top of it and pixelated it by hand. There was probably an easier way to do that and if I ever discover it I’ll be mad because this took me an unbelievable amount of hours to draw. But there we go, and I’m restarting the actual knitting tonight so looking forward to it!
If anyone’s interested then I’ll also post my patterns for the Kefta embroidery but I’m still working on them right now
88 notes · View notes
nyctophicbtch · 1 year
Text
The King's Healer - Nikolai Lantsov
Summary: As Nikolai’s healer, neither of you dared making a move, and you were determined in refusing Zoya’s proposal of marriage to secure the throne. That is, until Ravka’s king decided to stumble into your room all bloodied in the most ungodly hour of the night.
Warnings: King of Scars spoilers, slight angst, mentions of blood
Word Count: 2,500
The private meetings in the war room were your least favorite part of the day, only because you’d have to spend a good amount of time listening to Zoya mention all the terrible things that had been happening recently, as if you everyone wasn’t already stressing about it enough.
The meeting had always been occasionally filled with witty retorts between the king and his general, along with their three trusted grisha. And if that hadn’t been irritating enough to Nikolai, Zoya had been persistent in securing Ravka’s throne through marriage.
“This is the perfect opportunity for you to find a bride.”
“Absolutely not,” Nikolai replied immediately.
“Fine. If you won’t bother to listen to the long list I have then just marry her,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows expectantly at you as if she’d already expected Nikolai to refuse the idea of marriage.
You shot Zoya a pointed look. It was late at night and you wanted nothing more than to jump into the soft mattress of your bed.
“Having a grisha on the throne is not the most ideal measure.”
“Alina Starkov was grisha, yet no one was against it.”
“She was the sun summoner; she was a saint. That was different,” you argued, hesitantly glancing at Nikolai to see his face masked as ever whilst watching your exchange with his general, the same emotionless face he’d wear in council and war meetings displayed.
“Better than a stranger to his claws.”
“No, Zoya.” Your tone held certainty to it, concluding the conversation to an end.
There was no marrying Nikolai. He would have to find someone of a high rank lovesick enough to hopefully ignore the monster he becomes at night. And then you would go back to becoming his healer and no more.
It disgusted you to admit how much the thought pained you. After all those years of tending to Nikolai, as both the prince and privateer, and now as your king, you had the most access to him. His days as the prince and privateer weren’t the most subtle when it came to you either, shamelessly flirting with you any chance he got.
“The next try will be more compelling,” Zoya stated, turning to leave through the doors.
Genya stood still, eyes on the ground, and David looked expectantly at Nikolai.
A look passed between Genya and her king as she brought herself back from whatever thought she had been in, and Nikolai took that as his cue to say something.
“Yes, you are dismissed, David.”
He slightly bowed in respect, ushering Genya out of the war room and making sure to close the doors behind him; and as soon as you heard the hefty click of the doors closing, you turned to Nikolai who already had his eyes on you from across the room, a glint of suggestion in them.
“Nikolai, no.”
“Marriage wouldn’t be so bad, you know.” As soon as the words left his mouth, you caught a glimpse of the young prince before you, his solemn king facade fading. It was in rare moments like this with you he’d find himself at ease, not having to strategize every facial expression or word that comes out of his pretty mouth.
It was always easy with you. You were by his side for as long as he could remember. Every wound and every injury he had to deal with as Sturmhond and as prince Nikolai, you were there to wipe them all away, making sure to follow his request of taking your sweet time to avoid any scars. But the both of you knew that was never his only intention though, only keeping you longer to endure his derisive flirting.
“Yes it would be,” you insisted as Nikolai strided his way to you from the far corner of the table. “The least that Ravka needs right now is a grisha as their queen, let alone a healer. The country’s vulnerable, it needs someone of high power, better yet a strong alliance for our benefit. I will do no good for the throne except securing it. What then? It doesn’t solve the crisis our country is in. It will do you better to marry someone with more political benefits and-”
And his lips were on yours, silencing the lecture he had already gotten plenty of times, more so enough to sink into his head. Yet he could care less. Nikolai was not going to marry off some stranger he didn’t know. He wanted you as his queen and he was going to make that damn well known to you.
His kiss grew more fervent every passing second, a hand coming up to hold your face close to his and the other wrapping around you as he slowly guided you backwards until you felt the table against you.
“Nik- '' you managed to breathe out as he broke apart to trail his lips down your neck, hands feeling at your sides.
Nikolai pulled back slightly, just enough for you to see his breathless state and the haze he had in his eyes as he stared you down through hooded lids. Even in the dim light, you could make out how his pupils had dilated, the sharp edges of his face illuminated by a soft glow.
“Marry me.” His words were a whisper against your lips.
You could care less about the lecture you wanted to give him right now, and instead engrossed yourself in the feel of his lips against yours once more, fingers urgently tugging at his hair in an attempt to pull him closer than he already was. At this point, you were sitting atop of the table with his hands caging on either side of you and not caring that you were knocking the miniatures forming Ravka’s battle plans.
You could already feel his small grin of amusement starting to form against your lips as he felt frustration coarse through every bone in your body.
Nikolai had gained a liking in seeing you irked towards him during his privateer times. Every glare you sent his way only increased his satisfaction, knowing he could affect you in ways no one else could.
“You are not going to woo me into securing the throne,” you said breathlessly after gently pushing him away.
“I’m not wooing you to secure the throne. I’m doing it for personal selfish reasons.”
“We can’t keep doing this, Nikolai.”
“So marry me,” he reasoned, a hint of plea edged onto his voice. “No more hiding and holding back; no more uncertainty.”
You shook your head, pushing him further away to give you space to stand and walk out without uttering another word. And Nikolai let you. He never stopped you or pushed the boundaries he came to learn throughout the years.
-
Genya could’ve been more subtle with her anticipation.
“I’m not marrying Nikolai, Genya.”
“You say that as if it’s more of a disadvantage than it is beneficial.”
“The only good it will do is secure the throne.”
“Better than nothing.” Genya shrugged, opening the doors to your room. “If he were to marry anyone else it could backfire once the monster is unleashed.”
“Not if they're enticed enough. Shouldn’t be too difficult with Nikolai’s natural charm.”
The tailor kept silent bidding you a silent goodbye as you walked into your room.
“He’d never want harm to come your way, you know. Don’t be afraid,” you heard her softly speak before closing the doors.
You were afraid.
You weren’t sure if you were ready to face what lied ahead if you said yes to his many attempts of proposal, afraid of the change that would come with it. After the numerous changes that happened all at once with the Darkling, the thought of ruining what you once had with Nikolai terrified you.
Right now, you wanted nothing more than to shove all thoughts away in deep slumber. Unfortunately for you, Nikolai was not going to allow that, seeming as how the loud noise of the doors opening caught your attention as he staggered into your room.
“I’m not hearing any of it Ni-” You paused once your gaze landed on his bloodied form, red seeping through the side of his clothes.
“Saints, Nikolai.” You quickly rushed to his side before his legs could give out and tore open his shirt. “What happened?”
“So eager to undress me now are we?” He managed to cast a weak grin when you guided him to the floor.
Even bleeding to death he still managed to flirt with you.
It reminded you of the countless times Sturmhond would burst into your room on the Volkvolny with blood staining his shirt, in dire need of your abilities before he bled to death. Most times, it ranged from broken and bruised to a tiny cut on his lips.
Does it have to be your hands? Or can you heal through a kiss? he would ask every time and your response would always be a jab to his other wounds, causing him to recoil in pain and slap your hand away.
“Shh. Stay still. The more you move the more blood you’ll lose.”
“Always so demanding when I’m on the brink of death,” he protested.
You ignored the never ending comments he threw at you and worked on the huge gash on his side, trying to keep him from losing any more blood than he already had managed to lose on his own.
“Don’t you dare close your eyes,” you ordered when you noticed his eyelids drooping.
“How could I when all I can see is you- Ow,” Nikolai winced when you sealed a small part of his wound, hands going limp at his sides.
“Apologies, moi tsar.” It didn’t sound the slightest bit sincere.
For the next hour you continued working on Nikolai, nudging him awake every time he’d go silent and deafening comments stopped flowing out of his mouth. He did end up falling unconscious after a while and although you’d never admit it, you were surprised that he could stay awake for so long in his terrible state. Maybe it was because he had gotten used to being threatened to stay awake when you fix him up, or perhaps he was just that keen on annoying you as you struggled to save his life.
“You beef-witted idiot,” you whispered as you gently laid him down on your bed and pulled the covers over him. You couldn’t recall when you gave in to your tiredness and closed your eyes, but when you found your eyes fluttering open to the sunlight shining through your windows, you knew Zoya would be demanding answers.
It hadn’t even been a second after you regained your senses that you jumped upright, and when you found Nikolai still soundlessly asleep beside you, you allowed yourself to relax and lay back down.
Your fingers acted on their own accord, threading through his soft golden locks as you eyed his sunlit features. Even disheveled he managed to look like he was crafted by the saints himself. His shirt was torn open in the middle and you were sure Nikolai wasn’t going to let that go so easily even if it was a means to save his life. He had a tiny cut on his forehead that managed to go unnoticed during the night, given how preoccupied you were with the bigger task at hand.
Your fingers left his hair to hover above the cut, sealing it without leaving a trace.
“Well, don't stop now.” The sound of his voice brought some assurance to you that you hadn’t failed him yet
“Morning,” you hummed as he adjusted his eyes to the light.
“I certainly wouldn’t mind waking up like this every morning.” Nikolai shifted his body and winced at the soreness he felt, wrapping an arm to snuggle against you nevertheless.
“If another proposal is coming, I swear to the saints, Nikolai-”
“I love you.” Nikolai sensed the way your body tensed at his confession. He rubbed gentle motions on your bare arm with his thumb in an attempt to soothe you. “I love you with every fiber of my being and I’m sorry I hadn’t said it sooner.”
This time he looked at you with so much intensity you weren’t sure whether you wanted to hit him in the head or burst into tears for finally saying it out loud.
“You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to. But I’ll never forgive myself if I end up hurting you by having you watch me learn to love someone else. If that is even possible.”
Your hand reached out to his jaw and Nikolai closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of your hands gently cradling his face. This time, the kiss that came was gentle and filled with longing.
Yes, you were afraid of what was to come, but somehow, Nikolai and his stupid charm managed to drown those fears.
“Yes,” you mumbled against his lips.
“What?” He slowly pulled away, allowing you to get a glimpse of his brows furrowed in confusion.
“I’ll marry you, Nikolai Lantsov.”
The grin that found its way to his face was even more blinding than the morning sunlight that had woken you up and you found yourself mimicking his beaming expression, until his lips curled suggestively and you dread the comment that was going to come with it.
“Don’t forget, we still need an heir to properly secure the throne,” he whispered against the shell of your ear, earning a push to his wounded side.
“Ow. Well don’t re-open it.”
“I just might and seal it back again if you keep this going on.”
Before Nikolai could give one of his snarky responses, the door flew open to reveal Zoya marching in with Genya trailing behind her.
“He’s missing-” Zoya’s words got caught in her throat as she saw Nikolai looking cozy beside you.
“You were supposed to stay drugged,” she deadpanned. “Care to explain what happened?”
The trail of dried up blood along the hallway and on your floor was certainly one of the great sources for questions. Innumerable things had happened the past few hours to an extent where you had forgotten to question how Nikolai had ended up in such a concerning state in the first place.
“Wasn’t drugged enough. Transformed back mid-air and managed to land in the armory. Luckily, I managed to get here before I bled to death. No, I don’t think I flew far off and stayed inside the palace walls. Oh, and we’re engaged.”
The rare occurance of Nikolai catching Zoya off guard was an amusing sight to witness. Whatever words she was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. But she was never one to let any emotion other than discontent display on her face for too long.
“Get dressed. War room in fifteen minutes.”
“I thought you were the king,” you bemused once Zoya was out of earshot.
“And yet Baghra managed to scare the entire royal family.”
326 notes · View notes
mossytrashcan · 8 months
Text
“Why would LB call her magic system science? Why is she afraid of magic?” She did it for me specifically. The hot stem girly. (READ MY TAGS BOY)
#me explaining how a tailor on parem could potentially make someone a new limb#like tailors are a cross between the materialike boys and corporal girls#(last part is meant to be read as that p!atd lyric)#specifically alkemi and healers right#so what I’m thinking is that if they pulled the minerals from the earth and collagen from a body or something#and in ck we see that genya in fact has a jar of straight up cells right#so hypothetically pulling the natural substances from the earth or something and body ones from wherever#maybe potentially they could manage to recreate and arm#the nerves are what’s kinda throwing me off but AGAIN cell jar it’s totally possible#grishaverse#BUT ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY THAT A NORMAL GRISHA COULD NEVER DO THIS#that is completely out of their skill set even w the self healing boost right#creating entirely new organic matter would tip into merzost right#or whatever#ALSO I do believe a healer/corporal thing (not trained like zoya in kos) couldn’t do that#they need to be able to have some material powers SPECIFICALLY the alkemi ones#cuz that’s like chemistry yknow right#I think at least idk I just call them the powder ones lmao#anyways cuz like tailors are specifically mentioned to be rare cuz they’re like a mix#and it’s special training right#so again I think maybe if the wound was fresh enough and you had a coked up genya#you could potentially craft new organic matter#obviously creative liberties are being taken there’s a fucking dragon#god forbid there be some magic bs in this theory#but yeah I just needed to get that out there#my scientific mind has been feeling malnourished lately
28 notes · View notes
stromuprisahat · 11 months
Text
Anya
Six of Crows- Chapter 1
First chapter brings us one-sided longing. Young man’s crush on a pretty girl, who also happens to be virtually a slave in the house he’s guarding.
Tumblr media
Or perhaps she doesn’t have many reasons to laugh.
Tumblr media
Rules for Grisha indentures:
No walks allowed after dark.
You’re not entitled to any sort of explanation regarding your assignments. Neither are your colleagues.
No explanation’s required for sudden disappearance, be it due to death or unplanned reassignment.
Tumblr media
What was happening for that hour between Anya’s and Joost’s arrival?
Tumblr media
Is it only fear, or did they make her try something else before moving on to parem?
Tumblr media
Yes, Grisha indentures aren’t merely servants, they’re slaves. Serfs that can be sold. According to wiki, normal indentures “could usually marry, move about locally as long as the work got done, read whatever they wanted, and take classes" .
Tumblr media
I do so hate people- especially men- in power, touching others, when the situation doesn’t require it.
Tumblr media
Of course. Healer = nice and gentle.
Tumblr media
Oh! Poor, poor capitalistic pig!
Tumblr media
How much of Healer’s healing is about habit, intention, and how much compulsion?
Tumblr media
This isn’t simple “Preform the task!”, it’s psychological torture- the child was chosen deliberately- and non-consensual body modification. Perhaps not visible on the outside, but Grisha powers are their vital parts. Anya is expected to obey without questions, recieving mollifying half-truths alongside instructions.
Tumblr media
Money, money, money...
Tumblr media
They SO deserve to leave unharmed.
Tumblr media
KARMA!!!
Six of Crows- Chapter 3
Tumblr media
Let’s collectively pretend this never happened, Anya got away, got clean and lived!
Tumblr media
50 notes · View notes
Text
6 notes · View notes
grishaverse-chaos · 1 year
Text
how did my brain go from "i wanna write a magnus opjer origin fic" to "i wanna write a grisha!nikolai au"
12 notes · View notes
Text
Grisha but make it contortionist
Okay, so we know Grisha channel their power through movement (i.e. the druskelle are trained to secure a Grisha's arms during a fight), but does the range of movement add to the amount of power? For example, say a squaller forms a 90 degree angle with their hands and summons a gust of wind (something vaguely like this).
Tumblr media
Now, what if they could bend their hands all the way back?
Tumblr media
(This but with all fingers)
Would that increase the amount of wind funneled into the attack or would it be a whole other move? Thoughts?
6 notes · View notes
kensthjerte · 1 year
Text
youtube
There was not a single day that Alexander did not remember Luda. During the day he could still distract himself from thinking about her, because he was immersed in work, but at night...The night played a cruel game with him every time. Alexander could distinguish worse and worse where there was a dream, and there was reality.
12 notes · View notes
Text
MO DAO ZU SHI CHARACTERS IN THE GRISHA ORDERS
Part II: Corporalki
Tumblr media
Healers:
Tumblr media
Heartrenders:
Tumblr media
Part I Part III Part IV
26 notes · View notes
jomiddlemarch · 1 year
Note
I wish you would write a fic in which Mary Phinney has a good time (either facetiously spoken, or seriously) in the Grishaverse!
“The War is over, Mariy,” Jedediah said, leaning back in the rudely made chair as if it were the Tsar’s golden throne in Os Alta, his legs crossed at the ankle. His kefta was unfastened, the panels hanging loose at his sides, the white linen shirt he wore beneath it open at the throat, and if she didn’t know better, she’d think him responsible for the empty bottles of kvas and medovudhka that were scattered across what passed for a yard behind the field hospital. “You can relax and stop scrutinizing the horizon for any errant Fjerdan warriors. They’ve all gone home. It’s only us still here.”
“You’re awfully certain for a Healer who was up half the night,” she said, with only half her usual bite. She’d been up as well, signing the documents that were left behind after the last few patients had been taken away, most of them waving. Sergei and Katalin had between them conjured a rainbow and a shower of almond blossom, an impressive feat given that they’d both been brought in nearly dead and had spent the majority of their convalescence at each other’s throats before they admitted they were in love. “It doesn’t hurt to be cautious. There could still be a sneak attack—”
“A sneak attack?” Jedediah laughed. “You spent too much time with General Kirigan’s deputy Ivan. A sneak attack here is as likely as an otkazat’sya flying or the Tsaritsa scrubbing out a bathtub.”
“Still,” she said. 
“Still, what? Can’t you believe it, that it’s over?” he asked, gentle instead of mocking, with that tenderness that had once been a rarity, now common enough she’d half-wondered if merzost were involved and what the cost would be. “That we could be happy?”
“Those aren’t the same thing,” Mariy said. Yes, General Kirigan and the Sun Summoner had prevailed and were now assembling a new Council in Os Alta with Prince Nikolai, the Fjerdans and Shu-Han battalions had officially surrendered and retreated to their homes, and Mariy had just that afternoon received a much-handled, travel-stained note signed with Nina Zenik’s distinctive scrawl announcing her safe arrival in Ketterdam and reunion with Matthias, complete with waffles and missing even the faintest hint of herring, but Mariy couldn’t quite accept that meant happiness.
“No? Well, that’s a relief,” Jedediah said. 
“What?”
“That you aren’t so easily satisfied,” he replied. “That it will take more than the absence of brutality and terror to give you joy. I’d begun to wonder, you see, all that calm imperturbability in the face of sheer horror, that indomitable fortitude you’ve drawn around you like a queen’s mantle. Or a Sankta’s consecrated veil. It was very worrying.”
“You were worried? About me?” she said.
“Naturally,” he said. “My own flaws are myriad and obvious, for all that I’m a Grisha and a frankly exceptional Healer, if I may be excused any false humility. You, on the other hand—”
“I’m just as flawed,” she said.
“Not at all,” he said, serious for once. “But I’m glad you need something more to be happy. I only wonder, what will it take?”
“To be happy,” she repeated.
“To let me see Mariy Olnhauskaya having a good time,” he said. He waited and she was quiet, looking at him watching her, his regard so acute and suddenly so ardent, his dark eyes impossibly lovely. “Don’t you know?”
“I have a few ideas,” she said, shrugging and then flicking the fingers of her left hand. The vine that clung to the roof burst into bloom, the heady fragrance of white yasemin filling the air, the scent of a ballroom or a boudoir, a well-tended, walled garden behind a brick house whose windows were all lit to gold.
“But you’re a Healer, Mariy, Corporalki,” he said, startled and then quickly curious, entirely as she’d expected. “What you did, that’s a Durast’s ability and to be so finely wielded—”
“I dabble,” she said. “For fun.”
“You dabble,” he said, standing up and plucking one of the blossoms from the vine and offering it to her. “I don’t believe it. You’ve never dabbled in your life. What else can you do?”
“You want me to show you?” she said as she took the flower, letting her fingers touch his longer than necessary, letting her gaze drop to his lips. In the next instant, she was in his arms.
“Later,” he said. “I’ll hold you to it.”
“As long as you hold me,” she said and he smiled before he kissed her. And then Mariy Olnhauskaya was indeed having a very good time.
5 notes · View notes
she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 4 months
Text
Grishaverse knitting projects update:
On the one hand, terrible news, I made a major mistake in the six of crows blanket - like so bad that I actually have to undo everything I’ve done so far and restart. I’m really annoyed about this but luckily I’m not too far in and hopefully it will now be far more successful
On the other hand, more fun news, the Kefta I’m knitting (did I tell you guys about that? I can’t remember lol, but yeah I’m knitting a Kefta/kefta-inspired cardigan) is going wonderfully so I just need to make the sleeves and then begin the absolutely terrifying task of the embroidery. I am not good at embroidery; I’m very scared - but very excited too!
61 notes · View notes
inahandful-of-dust · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Healer field kefta in SHADOW AND BONE (2021-) Season 1
9 notes · View notes
demigodofhoolemere · 1 year
Text
Discovered that the official Shadow and Bone site has a feature where you can make yourself a Grisha avatar. Quite pleased with this.
Tumblr media
4 notes · View notes
noblehcart · 2 years
Text
ok but anas.tasia as an inferni is something i LIVE for.
0 notes
theowritesstuff · 1 year
Text
Yours No More
Tumblr media
Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader
Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint
Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”
A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon
Sobachka - puppy
Moi tsarevich - my prince
Moi tsar - my king
SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS
When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.
You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.
While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.
You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.
He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.
If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.
He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.
“How do I look?” He asked you.
“Different.” You nodded.
“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.
“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”
He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”
“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”
He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”
You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”
“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.
“Am I what?”
“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.
Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.
“Come in.” Nikolai called.
Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”
Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.
You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.
“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.
You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”
“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.
“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”
“I would.”
Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.
He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.
“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.
“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.
“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.
You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”
“Privateer. It’s an-”
“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.
Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.
“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.
“Yes?”
“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.
“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.
He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.
You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.
“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”
He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.
“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.
He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.
Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.
When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.
You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.
Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.
Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.
“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.
It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.
“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”
He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.
Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.
You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.
Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.
He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.
You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.
You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.
He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.
He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.
Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.
She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.
“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.
You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.
“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”
“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.
His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
He nods and takes a deep breath.
“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”
Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.
When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.
You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.
“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.
He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”
“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.
“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.
You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.
You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.
“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.
He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.
The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.
Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.
“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.
“The king.” Zoya corrects her.
“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.
Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”
“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”
You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.
Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.
You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.
“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.
“Moi tsar-”
He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.
“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.
He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.
You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”
He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”
You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.
“I promise.”
You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.
Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”
You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”
You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”
You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.
After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.
“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”
Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”
Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.
“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”
You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.
Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.
“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.
You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.
“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”
She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.
You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.
“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.
She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”
“He doesn’t-”
“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”
You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?
“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”
You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.
Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.
Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.
Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.
When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.
“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.
“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.
Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.
“Now, you know sacrifice.”
“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”
“Indeed. Look what it did.”
You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.
“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”
You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.
You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.
“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.
After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.
Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.
There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.
You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.
“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.
“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.
“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.
You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.
His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.
“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.
He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”
You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.
“It seems you need it more than I do.”
“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.
His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.
You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”
He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”
“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.
“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”
“But Alina-”
“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”
“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.
He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”
You can’t fathom doing any of that.
“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”
A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”
Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.
2K notes · View notes
atlabeth · 10 months
Text
come on back to me - nikolai lantsov
summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.
a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!
title from you’re the one by greta van fleet
wc: 7.3k
warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)
Tumblr media
Os Alta
It all happened rather quickly. 
One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere. 
You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off. 
The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray. 
Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.
You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table. 
You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them. 
Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate. 
You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t. 
You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them. 
You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened. 
You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring. 
“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”  
You nodded rapidly. “Are you—” 
“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”
“Baghra—?”
“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards. 
“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?” 
“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors. 
“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.” 
“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.” 
“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.” 
You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol. 
“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.” 
“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you. 
“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.” 
Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.” 
The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion. 
“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.” 
His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.” 
“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—” 
“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.” 
He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.” 
“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.” 
Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.” 
You nodded. “With my life.” 
Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way. 
2. The Pelican 
You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken. 
You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots. 
Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at. 
Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind. 
“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up. 
“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.” 
“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.” 
“So we meet again,” you said placidly. 
Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.” 
“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?” 
“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.” 
“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.” 
She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder. 
“Will you sit still?” you snapped. 
“I am,” Nikolai said. 
“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.” 
“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.” 
You scowled, only making his smile grow. 
“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.” 
“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.” 
“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.” 
“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.” 
“You’re impossible.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”
“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.” 
He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”
“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.” 
“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly. 
“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?” 
“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused. 
You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.” 
“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.  
You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything. 
“Are you alright?”
“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head. 
“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.” 
“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.” 
You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point. 
You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving. 
Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.
“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently. 
“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”
“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”
“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.” 
“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.” 
Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 
Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you. 
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”
Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.
“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”
Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims. 
“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.” 
She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away. 
“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka. 
It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.
“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.
There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”
“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”
“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked. 
“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”
You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”
He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?” 
“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”
You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?” 
“Answer the question.” 
Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”
Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”
“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”
“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”
“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”
“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”
To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”
“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.
“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”
That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.
You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back. 
When you did, he was gone. 
3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan
You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all. 
It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart. 
You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle? 
A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over. 
But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause. 
You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. 
“Vlachka for your thoughts?” 
You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood. 
You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King. 
“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said. 
He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?” 
You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.” 
“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”
“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly. 
“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”
You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?” 
He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.” 
You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?” 
He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?” 
“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.” 
“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” 
You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—” 
“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”
You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.” 
“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.” 
“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”
Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”
“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.” 
You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.” 
You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”  
“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.” 
You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly. 
“Do you miss your parents?” he asked. 
“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.” 
You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either. 
“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.” 
Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him. 
“You’d do that for me?” 
He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?” 
That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.” 
“Of course.” 
He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again. 
“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—
“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.” 
It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?” 
“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.” 
It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it. 
It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina. 
But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly. 
So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you. 
“I’d love to.” 
“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.” 
You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long. 
Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile. 
He knew exactly what he did to you. 
4. The Bittern 
Sergei sold you out. 
That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get. 
You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite. 
His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.
By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save. 
“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did. 
Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over. 
Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds. 
Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough. 
And then your mind went to Nikolai. 
Nikolai. 
In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety. 
You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway. 
“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?” 
Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured. 
“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?” 
“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.” 
Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle. 
Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds. 
Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate. 
Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it. 
Saints, you wished you had. 
“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai. 
You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be. 
“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.” 
Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you. 
You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.
He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone. 
It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling. 
Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—
It was too much. It was just too damn much. 
You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened. 
Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done. 
The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it. 
Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once. 
“Nikolai,” you whispered. 
You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel. 
The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger. 
Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him. 
“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.” 
His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.
You held them up. “My hands?” 
You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up. 
He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were. 
This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there. 
The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part. 
Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.
“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”
The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.
And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place. 
All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.  
You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much. 
5. The Shadow Fold 
“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!” 
“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall. 
It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first. 
Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning. 
You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai. 
He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks. 
“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?” 
You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened. 
His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name. 
“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?” 
You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back. 
“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.” 
Darling. 
You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features. 
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” 
“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.” 
“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.” 
“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.” 
You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?” 
Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.��� 
You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?” 
Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.” 
“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.” 
“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said. 
“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.” 
“Good.” 
You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai. 
“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?” 
“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.” 
“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.” 
His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up. 
The Darkling’s Skiff 
You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead. 
A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive. 
“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.” 
“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.” 
“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.” 
“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled. 
A moment passed before he spoke again. 
“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.” 
Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on. 
“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.” 
“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.” 
Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered. 
“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—” 
“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him. 
“What?” 
“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.” 
You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating. 
“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.” 
It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had. 
For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—
Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.” 
You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris. 
“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai. 
“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”
You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest. 
“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.” 
His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.” 
You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place. 
But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you. 
And for now, that was more than enough. 
1K notes · View notes