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zoyaofthegardvn · 1 year

Note

thank you for doing gods work for the gay girlies... my lil gay heart would explode if you did a "reader gets kidnapped/hurt & love interest goes feral" trope with zoya <33

A Mission Gone Wrong

A/N: One of my most favorite tropes! And Zoya is my fave book character ever, so I'm so glad you requested this! I'm here for the gay girlies always!!!! Hope this makes your little gay heart happy! :)

CW: Mentions of violence and torture, angst and drama, blood, death threats, actual death, fire, explosions, all that fun stuff. Def violent but in my opinion nothing is super graphic, but this is darker than the typical 'who did this to you' trope! So just be aware!

---

"Are you sure you don't want me to send anyone else with you?" Zoya's voice is pleading, near begging you to accept the offer.

Her concern is sweet, but maybe, a bit overbearing. You'd completed many diplomatic trips, investigations, missions of any sort on your own several times. As a Tidemaker, highly skilled in not just the Small Science, but combat too, and incredibly intelligent, you rarely ran into a situation you truly couldn't handle. Then again, since your marriage to the Queen of Ravka, you were hardly ever sent out to do anything even resembling a challenge.

You smile softly at Zoya, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her pouted lips. "Yes, my love, I think that one Inferni and one Squaller is more than enough," her face begins to contort in skepticism, and you playfully roll your eyes at her. "It will be fine, sweetheart, you worry too much."

She scoffs, as if what you'd just said was an offense. "Maybe I should go with you, it's the only way I'd worry less."

You run your hands up and down her arms, shaking your head at the comment. "And what would the heart of Ravka do without her Queen, Zoya?" She goes to protest, likely to tell you that you're more important, as she's said dozens of times, but you give her a warning look before she can speak up. "I'll be super careful, I always am. You're just stressed because it's the first time in a long time we'll be apart."

She gives you a long look, as if to say, yes, but not only will you be gone, you'll be hours away seeking out rogue and most likely hostile Grisha who don't realize they need your help.

You grin, reading her mind, yet you're still wholly unconcerned. It's been so long since you were out in the field, working intimately with the Grisha whom you've sworn to protect at all costs.

"Zoya, baby, I've done things like this several times, I'll only be gone for a few days, and that's if we even find anyone."

"Then why go? Why you? If there's a chance it won't even amount to anything, why do you have to go?"

You can't help the agitation beginning to grow. You sigh, heavily, and level a glare at her. "Because, this is what I'm good at. It's what I love to do. You know I love the Grisha, you know I'll help them as much as I can. Please, don't try to stop me from doing that."

Her eyes flutter down, and she grabs your hands, playing with the ring on your finger. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you aren't capable. And I wouldn't worry if I was accompanying you, the way that I used to."

You give her hands a squeeze. "I know that, Zoya, but we knew things were going to change when you became Queen."

She looks back up at you and smiles, though the discomfort is still evident on her face. "I know, I know. Just, please... promise me you'll be careful. You won't take unnecessary risks. You'll come home to me."

Your heart speeds up a bit, at the look on her face, the request she's made. "I promise, my love."

---

Hours later, you're atop a horse, riding along a dirt road. The two Grisha accompanying you, Nadine and Ilya, make small talk, inquiring about why the oppressed Grisha may be hostile towards any help you'll offer. You explain that because they've spent so long hiding what they can do, it's difficult to believe that post-war, they all have somewhere they can call home, somewhere they can learn and train. Their lack of education makes them dangerous, because their power is uncontrolled. Lack of control mixed with fear, hesitation, resentment, anger, even jealousy towards Grisha that haven't had to hide themselves since childhood can lead to explosive emotions, causing harm to anyone involved. They nod at everything you say, and eventually, the conversation dies down, and a comfortable silence follows the three of you.

Your thoughts begin to wander, thinking of how you'll approach any potential Grisha. There's been reports of physicians being able to remarkably heal life-threatening injuries in small towns, Healers. Reports of entire gardens and fields blooming back to life after years of lack of care and abandonment, Durasts. But this isn't what you're investigating, it isn't what truly concerns you. It's the reports of fires starting at random, wiping out villages and citizens in an uncontrollable blaze, Inferni. The reports of lakes and ponds suddenly flooding, wiping out travelers and livestock and crops, Tidemakers. The reports of storms occurring on an otherwise sunny and calm day, Squallers. These are the Grisha in most need of help, the ones that have to learn some sort of control before the public handles them themselves. You refuse to believe that they're truly malicious, just lacking any sort of guidance and outlet.

And then, eventually, your thoughts wander to her, your Zoya. You miss her, like a string tied to your heart, tugging you back the way you've came, hours away from home. Though you don't plan to be anymore than a day's ride from the palace, it's still difficult, being this far from her.

And the thought of Zoya makes your cheeks burn, remembering all the ways she said goodbye to you. Not just with her words, but her fingers, and mouth, and...

And then one of your partners is speaking to you. You shake your head, clearing your dirty thoughts, and look to your right where your companion is. "I'm sorry, I was a bit distracted, can you repeat that?"

Nadine, the Inferni, smiles, like she knows exactly what you're missing right about now. Or maybe, she's too worried she'll offend the Queen Consort. "I was just wondering if we should stop soon?" She glances down to a small map she's got clutched in her hands, "there's an inn up ahead, maybe another half hour ride? Then only a few more hours to the village we're needed in, after that."

You sigh, and give a tight nod, spurring your horse onward. You hadn't even noticed the sun had began to lower, painting the sky a red-orange haze. Truthfully, you wouldn't have minded continuing to the village, where reports of a possible Inferni had been made. But, you won't tire your companions out for your own selfish desire to get back home, to your wife.

The three of you continue towards the inn, and after another 15 minutes, your surroundings slowly look more village-esque. It's small, just a few houses littering the streets, a tavern. It's a commerce town, known for harvesting and trading out to bigger cities. Not many actually reside here, and anyone who does is a worker. It's not built for leisure. But, alarmingly, the place seems rather dry and dead. The grass is brown, the air feels... dusty. A few people in the streets give gentle nods, but they seem exhausted, clothes dirty and faces drawn tight. They recognize the three of you as Grisha due to your keftas, and while public opinion has mostly changed for the better, you can still sense some hesitation from them, some looking a bit worried about three Grisha coming to their little town, one they've surely worked hard to keep from becoming unneeded, one they've ensured people rely on through their trade.

But, what really stands out, is in the distance, there appears to be a large crater in the ground. A few people stand around it, speaking, likely the leadership figures in the town. One woman spots the three of you, and she waves you over.

Turning to your companions, Ilya, the Squaller, gives you a shrug, obviously curious about what's gone on here. Although it isn't the town you've been sent to investigate, something has clearly happened that is out of the ordinary. The three of you dismount and walk the rest of the way.

Before you reach the scene, the woman calls out, "More Grisha come to take from this town?" Her voice is hardened, her face in a scowl, but she doesn't seem to be telling you to leave.

When you get closer, you notice how deep the hole is. The area around it is absent of grass, though now, you suppose, it would be dead grass, and it proves what you had suspected, but dreaded. This was obviously a pond, or a lake, of some sort. And now, it's a dry, lifeless void.

You shake your head at the scene, and ask, "What happened? When?"

The woman, who you can now see is older, but a hard working woman, evident by the dirt on her skin, her messed hair, the muscles in her arms and the calluses on her hands, purses her lips and spits onto the dry ground. "Grisha, that's what happened. A few days ago."

Ilya, relatively new to these types of jobs, speaks up. "I'm sorry, that this happened. What else can you tell us?"

A young man, hardly out of his teens standing next to the old woman answers him. "Middle of the night. Woke everyone up. We all ran out of our houses, and there were these people..." he pauses, and his face screws up in disgust, "Grisha," he spits out, "killing our town."

The other villagers at the emptied lake nod their heads. So much for a good public opinion, you think.

The woman speaks again, "There were several of them, they emptied the lake. Just... picked it all up.. and.. carried it away. How is that even possible?" The last part doesn't seem directed at you, really, and your chest aches with empathy. "And then... there was another one. Th-they sucked the life out of everything. Look at it all! Dead and dry. There's no life here anymore."

Nadine speaks, "We're here because there's another town, farther south, that has supposedly been terrorized by a possible Inferni. We think it's a rogue Grisha, from Shu Han, that's fled the cities. Are you saying there are more rogues, ones closer than we thought?"

The woman nods, her face grim. "They've ruined everything. Our source of natural water... gone. We're the only town for miles. How will we survive, let alone trade anymore?"

And at that, your heart breaks. "I am so, so, so sorry this happened. We've been trying to find these Grisha, each time a new report crops up. It's our goal to find them, give them a home, train them. But this, this isn't just uncontrolled power. This was an attack, and I swear to you, they will be punished accordingly."

"And what does that do for us now?"

You flinch at her tone. "I'm a Tidemaker, and... the Queen, Zoya Nazyalsenky... she's my wife."

All of the people gathered at the empty lake pause, and stiffen. They stand up a bit straighter, their eyebrows raised. You always hate pulling that card, but in times like this, when it can be used as reassurance, you do it.

"As soon as we possibly can, we'll send Durasts, and Tidemakers, me included, Squallers, too, to bring water and life back to your town. I swear it. We won't let you be wiped away."

The old woman's face grows less concerned, but just a bit. "You're Y/N Y/L/N? The Queen Consort?"

You nod. "Yes, but please, just call me Y/N. I'm just here to help, however I can. That's all."

She sticks her hand out. "My name is Polina."

---

It turned out that Polina was the owner and operator of the inn, and her grandson was the young man you had also met, Alexei, was his name. Polina gave you and both of your companions rooms, and Alexei had given the three of you warm bowls of stew.

Before turning in for the evening, you had your Grisha meet with you in your room, to discuss how to proceed.

"I'm not sure we should even proceed to the next village. Truthfully, I think the reports were wrong."

Nadine nods, like she had also considered the possibility. Ilya's eyebrows raise, but he doesn't disagree. He says, "Do you think they were misunderstood, or lies, to throw us off?"

"I think that the Inferni either doesn't exist, or made themselves incredibly obvious to cover for the Tidemakers and Durasts that are apparently working together."

It isn't unusual for Grisha types to stick together, but it is for so many of them to be so malicious. It sends a chill down your spine.

"They've been working together a lot longer than we may even think. They seem organized, out of control, but organized," Nadine says. You nod in agreement, running a hand down your face from the stress.

"I think that our priority should be to help these people. I think we should head back, fulfill the promise we made by coming back with more Grisha. We help restore this town, and then travel onwards, with reinforcements. This is obviously more than the three of us intended to handle."

Ilya sighs. "What if they're destroying another village as we speak, what if they're at the village we had intended to go to, taking their water, killing their crops, too?"

Before you can respond, Nadine does. "The three of us won't be able to help them, not without more Tidemakers, more Squallers, and honestly, we'll need Healers and Heartrenders if this gets violent, and I suspect it will be, facing off with anyone willing to take water and food from an entire town."

You give her a nod of approval, proud of her logistical thinking skills and protectiveness of Ravkans. You make a mental note to urge Zoya to promote her sooner rather than later when you return home.

You send both Nadine and Ilya off to their rooms for a good night's sleep, as the three of you will return home at first light, eager to help this town before it's too late.

You turn down the lanterns of your room when they're gone, changing into a night gown and burrowing into your small bed. Though your brain is active with worries and unease, you eventually settle into a deep sleep, dreams of returning to Zoya there to greet you.

---

A harsh light is filling the room, and you awaken with a jump at a loud bang, several loud bangs, actually. Your eyes fly open, and immediately you see smoke filling the room. From the window, you can see the glow of a fire, and your door shakes with the force of someone trying to take it down.

"Y/N!" Nadine shouts from the other side, and you fly out of bed, ripping the door open with your face tucked into your elbow.

Her face is covered in soot, her eyes pinched shut from the smoke. "W-We have to g-" she cuts herself off, breaking into a violent coughing fit. A loud creak fills the space, and a wooden beam falls just feet behind you, setting your bed on fire.

"Where's Ilya?!" You ask, grabbing Nadine's arm and making a run for it. She's obviously been in the smoke more than you have, so you do most of the work, navigating the two of you down the burning hallway. You pass by Ilya's empty room and keep running, hoping he's waiting outside.

The two of you stumble down the stairs, the rail catching fire as you reach the landing, the both of you practically falling down the last flight.

Ahead, you can see flames licking closer towards the entrance, and you raise your hand, summoning what little water moisture hangs in the air to keep the doorframe from catching alight.

When the two of you burst out of the building, Nadine falls to the ground, clutching her chest and gagging from the coughs. You're disoriented, brain and vision fuzzy from the smoke, the heat, the adrenaline.

You look around, and faintly register that the entire town is burning. You want to scream in rage and despair, but your throat feels like it's on fire, and you break into a coughing fit. You try to find Ilya in the mess, but you don't see him, and instead, you're met with the vision of Alexei dragging Polina's body from the inn's entrance before finally, the entire thing is consumed by flames.

You land on your knees by Nadine, bracing a hand on her back, and attempt to scream out to Alexei to leave Polina, to move, before the entire thing collapses, before a sharp blow to the back of your head knocks you unconscious.

---

There's a throbbing pain in your temples, and it hurts to even move your eyes, but slowly, you peel them open. They're fuzzy for a few moments, and your ears are ringing, but eventually, you hone in on the sight of Nadine, across from you, out cold and tied to a chair. There's a gag in her mouth, and her hands are tight behind her back, her legs restrained to the legs of the chair.

Your eyes widen, but you can't move. You're restrained too, scream muffled by a gag similar to one used on Nadine shoved in your mouth. Your whole body hurts, you jerk and buck, trying to break the restrains, but they're tight, and it feels like you'd been given a thorough beating while you were under, as it hurts your ribs to even take a breath in. You can tell that your right eye is swollen, nearly entirely closed, and your lip is busted. You feel wetness dripping down your face, and you assume there's a cut, somewhere near your hairline.

Eventually, the sound of you struggling pulls Nadine awake, but the sound draws other attention, too.

A door swings open, and two men walk in, one carrying a lantern. The added light, provided by your kidnappers, provides more clarity on where you're being held.

It appears to be an empty, wooden structure. Some of the boards are loose, and through the cracks, you see a whole lot of nothing. There's light, bright enough that you can see that it's well into the next day, but not enough to really see inside of the place. If you had to guess, you're in the small barn, or shed, whatever the town called it, that you had passed by when you'd first arrived.

So, they hadn't taken you far at all, then.

Good, you thought, they're exhausted from all the magic they used tonight.

The man without the lantern steps between you and Nadine, a sinister smirk on his face. His fists are bloody and bruised, blood splattered on his white shirt. Nadine looks to you, an expression of rage on her face, and you can see that she's been beaten, too. Nadine, your closest Inferni friend, known for her red-hot rage.

Yes, you were angry, but you knew they should be terrified of Nadine.

And Ilya, he was nowhere to be seen. Though it stung to think he abandoned the two of you, you hoped it was just that, and that the fire hadn't claimed him, or worse, he had been killed by rogue Grisha, killed by the people he wanted to protect.

You snarled, as best as you could with your mouth gagged, when the man bent to be at eye-level with you.

"Well, when we lured the Grisha out here, we didn't expect to get the Queen Consort herself, but you won't hear me complaining." The man chuckled, his companion with the lantern joining in.

The comment confused you, none of the other rogue Grisha you'd encountered had ever been so malicious. Most of them wanted to be trained, wanted to stop wreaking havoc wherever they went. Most were grateful that there were people who cared enough to go find them, to take them in, rather than hunt, kill, or imprison them. There were the occasional Grisha who didn't like the idea of the Ravkan government knowing who they were, being at Ravka's whim, but mostly, they agreed to receive training in exchange for a life of peace and anonymity once they could be trusted with their power.

But this, this sheer, raw, hate and contempt, you'd never encountered it before. It terrified you.

He obviously noticed your confusion, and so he said, "Did you really think no one would realize what you've been doing? Forcing anyone with power into a life of servitude and restraint?" His eyes narrowed, and he smirked, like he'd caught you at something.

You bucked against the restraints again, and quicker than you could blink, he pulled a knife from his back pocket, holding it to your neck. You stilled at the threat, your breath coming out through your nose in sharp exhales.

"I won't let you do to them what you did to me," he hissed out, amusement turned to rage.

And then, it dawned you. This man specifically, he's not a rogue Grisha, no. He was raised in Ravka, taken to the Little Palace as a child to attend school, and then he defected.

It's rare, but it does happen. Some Grisha don't believe in balance of the Small Science, they don't believe in protection and using their powers for good. They're greedy, and power hungry, and view themselves as Gods.

Grisha aren't forced to serve, especially not under Zoya's rule, but there are the ones who view their education and the philosophy of Ravka has a restraint, a confine. They don't see it for the gift that it is, the necessity to keep not only the common man safe, but the Grisha, too. Small Science is a tricky thing, sensitive and delicate. Many rogue Grisha are found on the cusp of burn out. What you do, finding them, bringing them back, giving them a home, in many cases, it saves their life.

Clearly, this man has festered in his unappreciation and resentment for a long, long time.

He noticed the moment you figured it out.

"Yes, yes, that's right. While you were busying rallying up strays, I was busy finding the ones that don't want your charity. The ones that desire freedom and power, who won't give one up for the other."

You started shaking your head, tears of frustration welling, but he pressed the knife at your throat harder, your movements stopping at the feel of a prick at your neck, a small trickle of blood sliding down your throat.

Behind him, you could see Nadine struggling harder, her chair lifting off the ground a few times from the force of her efforts. Please, Nadine, don't give him any reason to hurt you, you thought, as admirable as your friend's efforts were, you had no doubts in your mind that this man was out to kill.

He snarled, whirling around to face her. "Stop moving, Grisha whore! Or I'll kill you first while the Queen here," he gestured behind himself, towards you, "gets to watch. Do you want that?"

Nadine, with a scowl on her face and likely a growl in her throat, shook her head 'no.'

The man, whose identity you still did not know, hummed. "Good girl."

The comment made you sick, bile bubbling in your throat. He had told Nadine, "I'll kill you first," meaning, he definitely had plans to kill both of you. You didn't know when, or how, and the panic began to curdle your stomach.

He glanced to his partner, still off to the side, lantern in hand. "Meet the others outside, take a few, spread out, look for anyone that fled during the fires. There can't be many left, but find them." The other man gives a sharp nod, sets the lantern on the ground, and leaves.

Then your captor turns to you, he smirks. "I have a few questions."

---

For hours, he questions you and Nadine. For hours, he punches you whenever he gets too frustrated, or holds his knife to your throats, or chokes you until you see stars. He pays no mind to your tears, Nadine's grunts and growls and snarls. Your gags are discarded on the ground, but the town is isolated, and no one hears a thing.

But, you're only just now entertaining the very real possibility that you'll never see Zoya again. You'll never come home to her, like you've always promised, and Zoya will forever be waiting for her wife to come back to her. It isn't the pain that you're in that makes you cry, no, it's the devastation that you will never see her again, the love of your life.

But, there is no chance that you'll give in. You won't tell him what he wants to know about the Grisha, the Little Palace, the Queen. Never would you compromise them. And so if it takes Zoya losing you, to keep her safe, so be it.

Your vision is blurry, eyes swollen, blood dripping from your mouth. Your entire body aches, it hurts to breathe. Dimly, you hear the man, who finally revealed his name to be Gregor, say, "I'm going to ask one final question, and then, you're both done."

Through the haze, you peer up at him, and spit a wad of blood at his feet. "I-I... will t-tell you... nothing."

He nods, like he was expecting it. The knife, for the millionth time it seems, is pulled from his back pocket. He flicks the blade out, and he stalks closer.

And then, in the matter of seconds, the entire space is dark.

He halts his movements, staring around the room curiously. It's like a curtain had been pulled around the barn, and the wind has picked up, whistling through the broken boards, gathering dust, whipping it around fiercely. The lantern goes out, and he grits out, "shit." He flicks his wrist, attempting to light it again, but the wind won't allow him.

A large clap of thunder makes him, you, and Nadine, who is hardly conscious, jump. A streak of lightning flares, and in the brief light, you can see Gregor's conviction falter. He casts you a long look, and then stalks towards the large wooden door, which is rattling from the force of the storm.

But before he reaches it, several screams ring out from outside. Instantly, there's a flurry of activity. The all too familiar sound of fighting is like music to your ears. You hear wind whipping around, bullets flying, water wooshing, fire igniting and soaring through the air, balls of flame creating streaks that you see fly by the structure.

Gregor looks terrified. And he should be. This isn't a few Grisha come to rescue you, no. It's the Second Army, led by Zoya Nazyalensky.

Though you can hardly see, can hardly move, can hardly think. You level a gaze at your captor, and send him a smile, it's toothy, bloody, and smug.

Rage takes over his features. He moves towards you, knife at his side, large strides carrying him closer towards you faster than you anticipated, but he doesn't make it far.

The doors to the barn fly open, breaking from their hinges. In the doorway stands her, your wife, Zoya. Never, in the all years you've known her, have you seen her look so furious.

She's mighty, and beautiful, and the relief that floods through you aches from how good it feels.

The scene that plays out behind her is vicious, but truthfully, it doesn't last long. Gregor never implied there was anyone else working with him that was trained and skilled. A fool, to do this work, while leaving the messiest players on the field. The Grisha Zoya had brought with her are cutting the rogues down with ease, showing no mercy.

And evidently, Zoya has no plans for mercy either.

"Step the fuck away from my wife." Her voice is cold, calculated. Her lip curls into a snarl, and you can see her trembling with the force of her rage. To others, her voice would sound alarmingly calm, but you can hear the unmasked terror in the tremor.

She doesn't look to you, but you know she wants to. Her gaze stays steady on Gregor, who stands halfway between you and her. He seems to genuinely consider her demand, for a moment. But then he grits his teeth, and tries to make a run for you. Briefly, so fast you think you may have imagined it, you see Zoya's eyes shift into those of the dragon.

You almost find Gregor's determination admirable, him thinking he could win against the most powerful Grisha alive. Almost.

Zoya's arm shoots up, her hand pushing forward, hardly breaking a sweat with the force she'd summoned to throw him. He hits the wall of the barn hard, and yet he tries to rise. Again, Zoya lifts him from the ground, throwing him against the wall with a sickening crunch. And yet again, Gregor, with broken and bruised limbs, attempts to rise. Zoya, like a predator toying with her prey, allows him to shakily brace himself on his hands and knees. She takes slow, measured steps forward. "What a pathetic excuse of a Grisha, such a waste of power," she sneers, and the jest hits him hard. He chokes blood, spits it out, and says, "you unworthy bitch." And, if you weren't currently holding onto life by a thread, and still tied up, you would've killed him yourself for that little comment. But Zoya merely clenches her fist, and she sucks the air right out of his lungs.

She continues moving forward, shielding you from the sight. Her face is clenched in fury, her fist shakes as she robs him of life. She holds, exactly like that, until Gregor's chokes are quiet whimpers, until he stops moving, stops twitching, and his eyes stare at her, lifeless.

Zoya doesn't pay him attention a second longer than necessary. Immediately, her rage contorts into worry, and her gaze shifts towards you.

"Y/N, oh saints..." Her voice cracks, her lower lip trembles, and she's launching herself at you.

"Zoya," you whisper, but it's gurgled and choked on blood and saliva. Tears leak from your eyes, streaking through the muck on your face.

Her hands are on you, something you never thought you'd feel again. They shake as she cuts through the bonds around your wrists. You wince at the ache in your shoulders and arms as you bring your hands in front of you, reaching out to stroke Zoya's face as she cuts the ties around your ankles. Your fingers tremble, you hardly have enough strength to graze her cheek. Once she frees your legs, she's gathering you in her arms, bringing you to her chest while she releases a sob into your hair.

She cries your name again, repeats of, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," but you pay it no mind. As much as you want her to hold you, you know you're not the most important thing right now.

You pull back, ignoring the sharp pain in your head and chest. You look up at her, into Zoya's heartbroken eyes, and give her a small smile. "N-Nadine, Zoya... h-help her..."

Her brows furrow, but she doesn't resist, knowing you'd never forgive her if she refused to save your friend, too.

She plants a kiss to your forehead, lips dry and trembling. With a last longing glance, she turns to Nadine, limp in her chair. Like she had done for you, she cuts through her bonds, and Tamar and Tolya come rushing through the broken doorway. They survey the space, anger and shock clear on their face. Tamar makes for you, and Tolya rushes to help Zoya with Nadine.

When she's free, Zoya has him take Nadine in her arms and leave, likely to find an available healer.

Don't let it be too late, please, let her live. The concern almost hurts more than any of the physical torture you'd endured.

Tamar stands you on your feet, but you don't make it far before Zoya's returning to your side, again, bringing you into her embrace. Tamar backs off, giving the two of you space.

"I'll go find a healer for her, somewhere to lay her down while they work."

Zoya doesn't respond, but you feel her nod.

She wraps one arm around your back, the other cradling her head. "My love, can you walk?"

You give her a weak nod, exhaustion beginning to take over, and you know you won't be conscious much longer. You try to take a step, but your knees buckle, and Zoya's immediately scooping you up, the arm around your back taking your weight as the other grabs you from behind your knees.

You don't even have the energy to assure her that you're fine, and besides, Zoya's already making for the exit, her steps hurried and frantic. Again, she's apologizing, you can hear that faintly. You want to tell her it's okay, that nothing is her fault, but your tongue feels thick and your mind feels foggy. You register that you're outside of the barn when the light hits your eyes, the storm Zoya summoned clearly over now that she has you in her grasp. You squeeze them shut despite the pain from the bruising, and you slowly fall under to the sound of Zoya calling your name.

---

When you come to, you're immediately confused. Opening your eyes is hard, and even as they flutter open, it's difficult to see. The pain you're in, that's clear, but you aren't exactly sure where you're at. Things are coming back to you in flashes, bits and pieces. The village, Polina, the fires, the barn, the abuse, Zoya.

There's pressure on your arm, and with a groan, you turn your head to look to your left. There, your wife rests her head on the cot you now notice you're laying on. She looks sad, and exhausted, and you want to brush her hair back from her face but she's got her hand in yours, her forehead rested against your forearm. You admire her for a moment, swallowing thickly, your throat dry and croaky. You notice that many of your cuts and injuries had been healed as well as possible, but many had been too much for healers to erase entirely. Mostly, bruises are left, but all of the soreness, the ache and sharp pains, remain. You can see that you'd been wiped down, your skin not so dirty and bloody as it had been. Settling into your thoughts, you can tell that you're undressed, bandages around your middle, others in various places across your arms and legs.

You bring the hand that Zoya does not occupy to your face, and notice a bandage around the wrist, likely where you'd struggled against the binds, tearing into your skin. You brush hair from your forehead, and wince at the nasty cut your fingers skim. The movement shoots an ache through your back, ribs, and temples, and the jostle rouses Zoya, which you had not intended. Truthfully, you knew she needed rest, and she was just so pretty while she slept.

Her head flies up, and she blinks the sleep from her eyes, her gaze settling on you once she remembers where she's at. Her blue eyes widen, and she breathes your name in a sigh of relief. She scoots closer, and holds your face in her hands.

"You're awake," she whispers, like she worried you never would be.

You give her a weak smile, and she tries to return it, but she fails. Her eyes well with tears again, and she can't control the sob that bursts out of her.

"Zoya," your voice is hoarse, "don't cry, baby, I'm alright."

She huffs a laugh, but it's humorless and bitter. "You are certainly not alright."

She reaches down, and picks up a glass of water that had been next to the cot. She cradles the back of your head, lifting it gently while bringing the glass to your lips. She pours it into your mouth slowly, the fresh water is an instant relief. You drink eagerly, and she pulls back. "Slow down, my love, you'll choke."

She helps you take a few more sips until you stop, satisfied and feeling more awake. Your head meets the pillow again, and you lick your lips with the newly provided moisture.

She sets the glass down, and you watch her closely, her face pinched, a few tears leaking from her eyes.

"Zoya, please, I'm okay. Sore, but I'm okay."

She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. "Y/N, you were nearly dead when I found you."

"Zoya..."

"Nearly dead!" She bites out, turning to face you.

You flinch at her tone, and she sighs. "Nearly dead, Y/N, if I had been seconds later..."

"But you weren't, you saved me, you saved Nadine..." Your voice trails off, and Zoya senses the question. She nods softly, "Nadine is okay, I think she woke up an hour or so ago."

You sigh in relief. "H-How long have I been out?"

She shrugs, "I'm not completely sure. I haven't been paying much attention to the time, I haven't left your side. I haven't gone outside. It may have been a couple of hours, or days, I wouldn't know. I didn't leave you."

She sounds like she's reassuring herself, not you. Your heart aches for her, at how dedicated her love is. "I don't doubt it, Zoya."

She nods, and wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. She goes to speak, but you know Zoya all too well, know what she's about to say. You beat her to it. "Zoya, nothing that happened is your fault."

She scoffs, shaking her head.

"Zoya, I mean it. Even I hadn't anticipated this, not Nadine, not Ilya, none of us. And speaking of... is Ilya..."

"He's the one that alerted us. He was awake, when they set the inn on fire, he left and came straight back home."

You nod, relieved that he had made it out, thankful that he had done exactly as you taught him. Never engage with a threat out of your range, always get backup.

"I was so, so terrified when he got there, when he told us what happened."

"Sweetheart..." You reach for her hand, holding it tight,

"It was the middle of the night. I woke up to Tolya banging on my door, telling me something had happened, that you'd been attacked," her voice cracks, and you squeeze her hand. "All I could think about is how I was going to lose you, how I was a fool for letting you go, that I had let you leave and I was going to pay for it. I felt like I was going to be sick. I left immediately, the best of the Second Army with me. I-I thought I wouldn't get in here time, or I'd arrive and you'd have been... long dead. That somehow you would have died, been taken from me, and I wouldn't have known."

You shake your head, tears of your own threatening to spill. "Zoya, no. Stop thinking that way. You didn't let me leave, I'm a grown woman, with a duty to Ravka and the Grisha, if it's anyone's fau-"

"And look what that duty did to you!" She emphasizes 'duty' like it's a curse, leveling her gaze at you. Zoya, when upset, when frightened, masks it with anger. You know that, and so you don't take it to heart.

"Zoya, this doesn't need to be a fight. You know that I love my job. And you know, better than anyone, that what we've done has done far more good for the Grisha than bad. You can't let one incident change that."

"Incident?" She looks at you like you've grown three heads, her tears falling quickly now, distorting her voice. "You were nearly killed!"

"Yes, I was, but I survived, because of you."

"Look at you, Y/N... bruised, bloody. You can't even hold your own head up!"

Yes, it's true, you've never been this injured before, especially in front of Zoya. And you know that if the roles were reversed, if it was you waiting at Zoya's bedside, terrified she may not wake up, you'd be distraught. You aren't denying your wife's terror, but you do wish she wouldn't let it manifest into anger, into self-loathing.

You sigh, trying to keep the frustration at bay. "Zoya," your tone is sharp, "I am so, so sorry you had to see me like this. But I won't give up my job for it."

She shakes her head and looks down at your interlaced hands. "I didn't mean to start a fight, I'm sorry."

"I know, baby, it's alright." You squeeze her hand again, in an attempt to get her to look at you, but she doesn't.

"But, I can't let you go out again, n-not... not for a while."

"Zoy-"

"No, Y/N, please, just listen." Finally, she reconnects her gaze with yours.

"Clearly, something went very, very wrong." You nod your head, because yes, something went terribly wrong. "I don't know yet if it was just simple misinformation, or if someone, one of our soldiers in the field, deliberately falsified intel in order to lure you or I out, away from the palace, away from protection."

Truthfully, you hadn't considered that. It's difficult for you to fathom any of the Grisha wanting to harm one another. But your love for them isn't a universal sentiment.

You swallow thickly, but you don't interrupt.

"I am going to find out, though, Y/N. I swear it." Zoya's voice is a dangerously calm whisper, her tone sharp. "I won't stop until I find every single person responsible for this, whoever did this to you, they're going to pay." It isn't just a statement, it's a promise.

"So some escaped, then? They fled?"

Zoya flinches, as if she blames herself for anyone who had harmed you escaping her wrath. "Yes. When we arrived... it was like Hell broke loose. So much fighting, everywhere, across the whole town. So, yes, some of them... managed to escape. I'm sorry."

"Zoya, no, please, don't be sorry for anything. None of us really knew the extent of what was happening."

She nods, firm and absolute. Her eyes narrow as she looks at you. "Now do you understand why this has to end, these rescue missions? At least until we have a better understanding of what these rogues are capable of, what they want to accomplish?"

Ahhh, you thought, she doesn't know that Gregor, the man she killed, wasn't a rogue. He was one of our own. I'll tell her later, let her worry later, she's been terrified enough.

"Yes, my love, I do. I respect your wishes, you know that. I won't go out into the field for a while, but I won't quit this. If there's an investigation to launch, I want in."

She rolls her eyes, though it's playful. "Yes, yes, I figured you would."

You grin, and reach for her face, cupping her cheek. "I love you, Zoya. Thank you, for saving me."

She turns, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand. Then she leans forward, careful of your split and swollen lip, and places a kiss there, too. "I love you, Y/N, more than anything."

---

It isn't for another few days that you're able to be moved. During the first two days, Zoya fills you in on all of the details you were unaware of as you'd been held hostage. You learn that nearly every building, every home, every business, had burned, save for a lucky few. Many had died, but not all of them. Healers were able to bring many people back from the brink of death, and soothe any minor injuries sustained. Zoya told you the village people are resilient, and thankful towards the Grisha that had come so fiercely to save them.

You learn that while Alexei had lived, surviving minor burns and scrapes, Polina had died, her injuries far too grave. Zoya held you while you cried through the sadness and guilt, and she swore to you that Grisha would be stationed in the village to help them rebuild. They were already developing a plan to return water to the lake, and they would continue to provide financial support while the town reestablished its commerce. And while you knew that Zoya would never, ever, back down on that promise, you still felt miserable that it was one that even had to be made. Polina, a hard working woman, that earned everything she had, that loved her town, would never see it restored, all because you had stopped to stay at her little inn. The tears came often, and Zoya wiped them away each time.

On the third day, Zoya helped you sit up. She'd been babying you, but you couldn't complain, secretly adoring when she dotes on you. You insisted that you could stand, too, and walk around. While she wasn't too fond of that idea, she delicately wrapped her arm around you and supported you as you left the little healer's tent you'd been staying in.

You were able to finally see Nadine, and Ilya, who volunteered to be one of the Grisha that stayed behind. Nadine was promptly promoted for her intellect and, as you recalled her growls and efforts to resist Gregor, for her passion. Just as injured as you, you two weren't able to embrace much, but you did tell her how proud of her you are, and how thankful that she'll be going home, too. Though, if there was anyone more eager than you to keep working, it was Nadine, and because she isn't married to the Queen, there isn't anyone to really stop her. Ilya tried to apologize for leaving, for not trying to find the both of you first, but you quickly shushed him, telling him he had done everything right. And, you supposed he had a bright future ahead of him, seeing as Zoya was incredibly thankful to him for his swiftness.

On the fourth day, you finally convinced Zoya that it was time to go home, and that you'd survive the journey. Every night, she'd been applying ointments and medicines to your cuts and scrapes, hand feeding you food and water. She'd get a wet wash cloth and wipe your skin, due to absence of a bathing room. Every morning she'd brush out your hair and braid it, to prevent knots. She rarely left your side, only budging when the Grisha needed guidance and direction. She slept on your cot with you, declining to have her own, claiming, "I don't think I'll ever be close enough to you anymore."

A few members of the Second Army that were to return to the palace, Nadine included, sat on their saddled horses waiting for you and Zoya to join them. Zoya, ever the dramatic, had added blankets and such to your horse, for comfort. She even made a Fabrikator attach buckles to your saddle, because she was worried that if you weren't strapped in, you'd fall off.

She lifts you with ease, putting you on top of your mount, and making sure you're secure before she climbs atop her own. The trip, while able to be made in a day, was to be split into two, for your and Nadine's sakes.

Zoya sends everyone to ride a few paces ahead, so that she can trail closely next to you. You giggle at her protectiveness, but your heart swells at just how perfect of a wife she is.

Zoya watches you, noticing how every so often, you glance back at the ruins of the village you're leaving behind.

"We'll come back, love."

You shoot her a confused glance. "We will?"

She nods, she smiles, and she sighs. "I know you won't stop thinking about this place, won't stop worrying. When they've rebuilt some, and they're back on their feet, you and I will come back, we'll help with the finishing touches."

You could cry at how well Zoya knows you, how she'd do anything to make you happy and satisfied, including travel back to a village, one any other royal would have written off as insignificant and unimportant, one that is now a source of trauma, maybe even more so for her than you.

"I would love that, Zoya, thank you. I love you, so much."

She smiles, and her cheeks grow a bit pink at the sheer adoration in your voice.

"I love you, too."

---

A/N: WOW! I made this a hell of a lot longer than I had originally intended lol. I hope you liked it, anon! And thanks so much for requesting!