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historianthesecond · 7 months

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The First to Fall (In Love) [2]

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem! Reader---3.6K---SFW

<- Part I // Part III [Final]->

Summary: The picnic date wouldn't be the last you'd have with Nikolai, though your time together is limited, with the festival almost reaching its end. When it's time to decide to stay or leave, how much truth lies in your answer?

Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy

The rain muffled your steps climbing the stone staircase toward where Nikolai had invited you today. Luckily, only a drizzled had accompanied most of the way crossing the Sapphire Wing of the Grand Palace where all guests were accommodated toward the main building. The plants in the Queen’s garden shone with dew, raindrops gently kissing the flowers and leaves, your hair and clothes. It smelled just as you remembered from that first time you went inside, cocooned by an apple tree.

Back then, the blanket underneath you was a spotless shade of white, matching the shade of Nikolai’s gloves. Soft against your touch—not that you could compare them to his when your fingers grazed his when he passed you a pastry.

Ever since that meeting, you grew used to seeing random envelopes passed to you in each meal, usually breakfast, but sometimes even dinner. Of course, your principal advisor, Lady Stell, wouldn't mind you slipping late in the evening with the Rakvan King. And you have to admit that you didn’t, either.

Crossing down the hallways toward the library, the silent space echoed with a round of quick steps coming your way. With your head tilted, you poked around the corner, almost tripping against Nikolai, whose quick walk came to a halt.

“Saints!” He said, stepping back to avoid hitting you with the umbrella he was carrying. “You scared me, darling. How do you walk so silently?”

Ignoring his pet names, because he sometimes liked to sprinkle such words everywhere, you replied: “It’s easy to be stealthy when you’re striding down the hallway with an absent mind." Your chin signaled to the umbrella. "Are you going out, Your Majesty?"

His gaze swept your clothes, finding them only slightly darker above your shoulders, tiny drops of rain misting on your hair. “I was going to fetch you so you wouldn’t get wet. But the meeting extended too much, and didn’t make it on time.”

You smiled at him—a real gesture that sometimes slipped out your neutral features. It made his heart do cartwheels or something just as cheesy as described in some of the novels he read when his eyes got bored from scanning commercial deals and reports from each province.

“It’s alright, it wasn’t raining that hard still,” you muttered, not telling him that it would’ve been fine if he had decided to send any servant to escort you. He liked to do it himself, and you couldn’t deny him to show such gallant gesture.

“Still, let me get you a towel.” He gestured to one of his guards hovering nearby, which nodded and then disappeared in search of a butler or a maid. “We wouldn't like you to get sick." That way he couldn't visit as much, but Nikolai refrained from telling you that half-thought.

“I always get sick when I return to Rewfel,” you said as easy as breathing, and Nikolai felt his heart doing a free dive toward the floor. He had almost forgotten that the end of this makeshift festival was nearby, barely four days away. “The physician says it’s something about the humidity of the island and my respiratory system.”

You observed him, his expression morphing from open happiness to contained… something. “Are you alright?” you said, gentle fingers brushing his sleeve. “I’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him.

Nikolai picked up on your intentions and gave you a strained smile that he thought was concealed enough, though not really—not for you who had been spending the evenings together at least every third day; in the library, where you both silently read until the candle burned out or your eyes got too blurry from sleep to continue; or a simple walk in the garden, with his fidgety, energetic fingers plucking flowers to offer them to you.

“It’s a peace offering,” he told you the first time, giving you a zinnia flower he produced from somewhere, when you were looking at the fireflies scooping over the lake, their wings shining like diamonds against the dying evening sun. “For our growing friendship.”

You had tilted your head, brushing the soft petals against your palm. A flower like the dusk, you thought, all red and orange and yellow. “I thought we had toasted for that yesterday.”

He grinned. “It makes me happy you remember our promise, Your Highness. But I’ve never been against showing my affection to the people I care for.”

Your steps had come to a stop, eyes glued onto him as the flower hovered near your nose, the sweet essence of it making you dizzy.

“What’s the matter?” Nikolai chuckled. “You look horrified.”

Turning your face away from him, you hoped the hair would cover the flustered state of your face. Was he out of his mind? Or was this just another strategy to win over your hand?

Even now, you weren’t sure.

Offering you his arm, Nikolai guided you to a rooftop that had been built to be a bell tower, now discarded to be his observatory that he couldn't use much due to the never-ending work that kept piling even after dinner.

The telescope was brushed to a corner ever since the first you came here, and the inexistent east wall let the breeze of the rain come in, making you sink deeper into your coat. Nikolai passed you a blanket he had laid onto a chair nearby, and you let him have half of it to cover his legs, even if it looked like he didn’t need it. To be fair, both the tea and the brandy were warm on the table in front of them, a thin serpent of smoke ascending toward the glass cupule in the roof.

"Have you finished the watercolor?" Nikolai asked you suddenly, hazel eyes flashing toward your face after he got tired of seeing the curtain of rain sheltering you both from the world.

You nodded. It was a humble size, portraying the way the sun reflected in soft waves against the water, sketched when he invited you to sail with him in the lake.

"Does it feel like home?" He asked you, looking at your hands grasping the helm, wind blowing your hair away from your smiling face.

"Better," you giggled, and he relished in such sweet sound. "I've never maneuvered a ship this big before."

Nikolai couldn't refrain to wink at you. "You just wait until you see my ships stationed at Os Kervo, lovely. They're the bigger sisters of these ones."

Both Palaces looked like fancy cakes, identical to the dessert slices Nikolai had invited you that evening, white and gold and in perfect smooth shapes extending over green forests, so much green you had to remember it somehow, there when back home was all yellow dunes and turquoise.

"They're surely breathtaking."

"Yes, quite so. But not as much as the one gracing upon me right now," Nikolai said, which made you look at him over your shoulder as if he had lost his mind. "The view, Your Highness." He gestured away, even if you could swear to feel his gaze when yours was focused on the horizon.

Strangely enough, you had grown fond of this country, maybe more than just the country, your mind popped into thought, eyes meeting Nikolai's.

“I would love to see the final result,” he commented, settling the kettle on the table after serving you a cup.

You didn't have time to register the implication of your words before they could get out of your mouth. "Well, you know where my chambers are."

Nikolai was taking a sip of brandy, the glass jolting when he leaned against his knees to cough.

You laughed to hide your embarrassment, but correcting yourself would've been even worse, knowing his endless teasing. Not even the dark evening could conceal the light pink blush dusting his cheeks. If it were any other situation, you wouldn't be allowed to wander with him without a chaperone; but your family was desperate to undo their mistake involving your older sister and Vasily, it was inconsequential to break one or two protocols.

"So, why don't His Majesty talk with me about his day?" you told him, ready to ease the sudden change in the ambiance, charged with something powerful, as if lightning was about to strike.

His eyes lighten up, only momentarily before looking away. “I wouldn’t like to bore you, My Lady.”

“Nonsense. I know royal duties are taxing and dull, but they’re necessary,” you said. “Sometimes you feel like there’s nobody who could understand what you’re going through, sitting up there on a throne.” You shrugged. “At least, that is what my older sister told me once. Those days I could barely see her with how many classes she had.”

Nikolai wished to be better at artistic drawing, so he could forever keep the fond smile decorating your face. "She would have been a delightful Queen," he said, his voice growing serious. "I'm sorry what happened to her. May I ask… where is she now?"

It was time to light up some oil lamps on the coffee table, but both of you let them be turned off, the darkness welcomed while you were laying the contents of your heart.

“I don’t know,” you uttered. “My parents didn’t let me contact her when she escaped from the carriage that would get her to a convent after breaking off the engagement. Honestly, I don’t think they know her whereabouts either.” A chuckle escaped your lips, but it was a sour sound. “Perhaps it’s for the best.”

He reached for your hand in the darkness, a whim of boldness strong enough to graze your arm down your wrist, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Please forgive me if I’m overstepping, but I would like to help you contact her again, if you so wish, of course.”

You chuckled. "I don't think it would be a good idea for the King of Rakva to approach her on my behalf."

It was too dark for you to see his cocky smile. “My dear, don’t worry. I have my ways around.”

“Of course you do. You always do,” you said, like the way he’d been burrowing inside your mind and heart little by little, with seemingly no effort whatsoever. However, the last part of the sentence was muffled by the bell chiming in the nearby distance, as in destiny’s call. It was only one bell away from dinnertime. "I should have told you this sooner, but you don't have to be sorry."

“Pardon?”

You looked at his broad shadow hunched next to you on the lounging sofa.

“About my sister,” you whispered. It was hard to hear you talk over the rain, so he had to scoop closer, trying not to distract himself with the lily’s essence of your hair. “It’s me the one who ought to be sorry.”

“I’d say it was a very understandable reaction. You don’t have to apologize at all, dear.”

"I judged you without bothering to even talk with you beforehand. It was childish of me, to make us carry this burden that doesn't even belong to us."

Nikolai chuckled. “It’s the way blood works, isn’t it? You’ll be forever tied to the family name—for the better or for worse.”

The silence expanded, longing for your answer, lips gently parting when you were ready to speak. “I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. And I would’ve been, no matter if you were a Lanstov or not.”

He sat a little straighter, eyes widened. Trying to brush off the sudden shyness clinging to his bones, he said: “Oh, but darling, if I weren’t me, I wouldn't have ever seen that pretty glare of yours back at the lake."

You chuckled, temporarily distracted by his words. “I can’t with you,” you huffed, trying to muffle a laugh. “But I meant it. I apologize for how I acted back then.”

“We’re friends now, love. Please don't be." He learned to nudge his shoulder against yours.

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it in the darkness.

“I think we shall go, Your Majesty." You stood up, not knowing if your legs felt wobbly for so much time of being sitting, or if it was because of his proximity. Not that you would like to dwell much in an analysis of sorts, either. "Or else we will miss our bedtime.”

“I believe you’d look lovely the next day without your beauty sleep nevertheless," he commented, but put his hand away. Hearing the rustle of your dress moves away from his legs, your warmth slipping from his grasp once again. Instead, he grabbed the almost empty glass of brandy by pure memory of its location. "Would I see you later?"

Your steps faltered just where the threshold of the entrance must be. You only hummed back. “Perhaps I can show you my watercolor tomorrow after lunch.”

Nikolai was glad you couldn’t see his boyish smile. “I would love that, darling.”

“Goodbye then, Your Majesty.”

“Nikolai,” he told you before you could get too far. “I think friends should drop the formal titles, don’t you agree?”

“As if you used mine often enough.” A couple of steps echoed against the quiet room, and for a moment Nikolai was about to sigh, defeated. “But yes, I agree, Nikolai. Have sweet dreams.”

“I sure will,” he replied, but you were too far away to listen.

Thankfully so, perhaps.

*~*~*~*

Days passed by quicker when you were fearing them not to. Nikolai had a hard time remembering such a time he felt this way, the only reminisce coming from the countdown when he chose to leave his life as Sturmhond behind to help his country. How he stepped into the deck of the Volkvolny and just gazed at it, a silent goodbye.

He didn’t wish to do the same with you.

The thought made him roll in bed, insomniac, ever since the first guest started going three days ago. With the space of the stables bigger with every horse and carriage that left Os Alta to probably not return.

You probably didn't feel the same—that you two had grown close enough to call what you had a friendship, but nothing more. The rift lay there still, and Nikolai wasn't sure if he could cross it in these thin floorboards, built-in longing glances when you didn't notice, in those stolen moments where he could pretend you two had a world of your own. In every tiny smile, he could get out your precious lips.

He heard the bell tower chiming in the night, mimicking his frenetic heartbeat, a reminder that time was always slipping between his hands. That this was the last night you would be sleeping under the same roof.

Nikolai sighed, defeated. The mattress dipped under his weight when he sat, back leaned against the headboard as he gazed into the dark as if would give him an answer. He tried with a lie first, to see what this lonely hour could reveal a way to unveil his feelings.

It doesn’t matter, he thought, closing his eyes. You’ll forget her.

With the watercolor you had painted of the Palace, your name scribbled in a corner, he doubted it could be possible. There weren’t many royals, and such families were meant to encounter one another in international scenarios. Could he withstand the eventual sight of you with another person taking your hand?

The mere picture of it made his heart squeeze in a painful grip.

You would be meant to leave after breakfast. And then not only his festivity to try and get a future Queen would have been useless, but the person he did want to be next to him for the rest of his days would be gone. It was much worse than simply imagining that there was nobody for him out there.

The light of the hallway blinded him, with Tolya jolting from his post outside his door when the knob turned open.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, but Nikolai shook his head, passing a hand through his hair.

“No,” he sighed. “I’m going to…" Nikolai trailed because he had no idea of what to do. "I'm going to take a walk, I think it will help me unwind.”

Tolya was about to follow him, but Nikolai turned to him. “It’s alright, Tolya. I’ll walk in the patrolled path, I promise. I would like to be alone for a while.”

Concerned pooled inside his friend’s eyes, but he nodded nevertheless. “As you wish.”

His senses were numbed enough to mindlessly walk down the path of the garden, insects singing in the distance after a rainy day, the moon sheepishly peeking through the clouds. Lamps were lit in the main path, so he didn’t have to worry about tripping, though he had wished to wear a warmer nightrobe.

Too far to return now, the Saints knew that if he turned, Nikolai would not return even if he regretted it for the rest of his life—he just wouldn’t make the courage for it.

The Sapphire Wing had such gems embedded into the cupule of the foyer, hence the name. It was lavish and private, with customizable rooms depending on the nobles and ministers visiting. The inner parts were for the ones who couldn't withstand the colder temperatures, and the rest were in the margins, with bigger balconies and windows to let the wind brush in.

Yours was close to the Private Gallery, if you ever wished to work on your art there, you wouldn't have to carry your paintings from too far away. Nikolai made his way there, too distracted to mind the fleeting glances the foreign guards gave him.

Finally, he stopped in front of a pair of cedar wooden doors that at such a moment seemed bigger than they were. But he couldn't linger for much, not with your guards watching him in their unrelenting watch. Welcoming the pressure, he knocked on your door before he could think straight and leave. What if you didn’t hear him the first time? Would he dare to knock again?

After some seconds, that surely felt longer as his heartbeat ran and slammed against his ribcage, he heard shifting at the other side, the muffled steps of bare feet that stopped in front of the door.

A crack opened, and you poked your head outside, eyes squinted with slumber despite your attempts at rubbing it away.

“Nikolai?” you told him, voice groggy. He felt his heart tugged against his ribcage at waking you up so late, especially when you were meant to wake up earlier than usual to get ready for your travel.

A journey he wished you didn’t take.

He smiled faintly. “Hey there, lovely.” A pause as your eyes stopped squinting, already used to the light in the hallway. “Can I come in? I’m having trouble falling asleep.”

You closed the door in his face, and he stepped backward, stunned.

You opened it, peeking through the ajar crack. “Wait there. Let me change,” you said, closing the door once again for at least five minutes before you appeared again, your hair undone from the nightly braids, a warm coat covering your nightgown.

Gesturing for him to come inside, you had lit up the lamps on the nightstand, and Nikolai could see your bed made a cocoon of warmth with blankets thrown around the pillows, like making a fort of some sort.

He had to push away the thought of thinking that he could shelter you even better than those pillows.

You sat against the headboard, telling him to sit whenever he wanted. Nikolai was too nervous to sit, but he obliged anyway, as he wished to be at your eye level.

“What’s the matter?” you told him, taking a sip of water to alleviate the uneven tone of your voice. “Are you alright? You look… red. Do you have a fever? I can talk to the physician—”

He breathed in your name, stopping your ramble. “I… I have to tell you something.”

You looked at him, expectantly. But he couldn't—he couldn't utter any words that were both almost slipping out his tongue and caught between his teeth; your brows furrowed, and Nikolai couldn't stop thinking that would be the look you'd give him once you had rejected him.

That you would leave, glad to be finally free from his overbearing grasp. And then Nikolai will be alone again, his pretty princess friend gone from all the places she used to be, a cold spot in the sofas, an empty chair across from him at the coffee table.

“Nikolai?”

He took a deep breath.

I’m falling in love with you. “Please don’t go,” he uttered, afraid to look at you. His fingers grabbed the end of the blankets that were still imbued with your warmth, but he was too far away from both your body and your heart to soak into it. "I think my life won’t be as pleasant as it is now that you’re here.”

A confession. Of sorts.

Your eyes were widened, hands fiddling with the hem of your coat. “Nik-Nikolai, I don’t know what to say,” you mumbled, looking at the luggage behind him.

Now he needed to be the cunning politician, even if he wished to drop the mask he was starting to slip over. “Your parents would love to create solid bonds with the Rakvan Crown, isn’t it? This could make amends between both nations.” He looked at you, reading the dim sparkle in your eyes.

This could make my sister come back—now forgiven, the memory pushed behind a dazzling royal wedding.

"And… I know you'd be a magnificent Queen to rule by my side," he told you, trying with his whole will not let his emotions paint his voice too euphoric, too hopeful. “You have a good heart and a sharp mind. If I had to repeat this entire festival, I would pick you again and again, only sooner.” He cleared his throat. "I'm sure we can be happy if you wish to try." As friends, he tried to say, but the words got stuck in his throat, any attempt to utter them dying in his mouth as you scooped closer.

You chuckled, crawling along the mattress until you stayed in front of him. Gently, your arms enveloped him, your head nuzzled in the crook of his neck to take in his essence.

“Let’s do that,” you told him, and he hoped you didn't notice how he shivered when your breath caressed his ear. "Let's be happy together.”

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lantsov imagine #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone x reader

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historianthesecond · 8 months

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Second Best - Part 2

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Part 1

A/N: Started at school again so updates will probably be even more infrequent now. Once again, I hope this part is coherent enough :) also, I gave the mc reader a last name :)

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: strict and mean parents, very slight self-image issues because of said parents, mentions of illness and death, me not knowing how to write sciencey things, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please)

Word Count: 1840

..........

The day after the king visited, a letter addressed to you arrived at the Antonov house in Os Alta. You never got letters.

You grew up in the isolated countryside, surrounded by acres and acres of land and a household of servants who were under strict orders not to speak with you. When you were five, the only friend you had died during a small outbreak of pox, which was around the same time your parents started to restrict who came near your estate. Because of this, no one back in the countryside would be writing to you. Perhaps an old school friend sent you a rare letter, though they wouldn’t have the address for the city house, only the country estate.

There was no reason for a letter to arrive addressed to you. So when the butler handed you the letter at the breakfast table, your mother gasped and plucked it out of your hand before you could even open it.

Her eyes narrowed on the wax seal. "It's the double eagles."

"What does the puppy prince want now?" Your father looked over his morning paper, vaguely interested in the contents of the letter as he sipped at his morning tea.

"He's the king, father," you quietly chided. He just waved you off.

Your mother cracked open the seal and started reading. You wanted to grab it back from her--seeing as it was your letter--but you merely stood from your seat and hurried to her side of the table so you could read over her shoulder.

"He was serious about helping her find a new fiance," your mother said as she read.

You glanced at the first few lines, confirming her information. Then she gasped and set down the letter. You craned over her shoulder to understand what had scandalized her.

I wish to discuss what exactly you are looking for and to get to know you better before I help you find a match. As such, I would like you to have tea and luncheon with me in the Grand Palace on Saturday at noon. But only you--I do not wish to hear your parents’ talking.

"He's invited her to the palace. Alone."

Your father set down his cup. His eyes flitted up to you.

Your mother tsked, looking at him. "She can't go. She'll ruin us if she goes. She'll let it slip, I just know she will."

"I won't tell him." You swore, eyes pleading with your father. "You know I won't."

"Look at her, she'll crumble and tell him everything," your mother said, her face tensing up as she glared at you.

He paused in consideration, crossing his arms. You stepped closer to him.

"Father," you said calmly. "It's my reputation on the line as much as it is the family's. I won't tell him or anyone else for that matter."

He scrutinized your eyes a moment longer, then he returned his attention to his newspaper. "You can go. But be back by two o'clock. No later."

Your mother sat up in her seat, seeming like she wanted to say something, but a glance from your father made her think twice. You grabbed your letter and envelope from in front of her and waltzed back to your place at the table. You quickly hugged your father's shoulders on the way to your seat.

……….

The last time you were at the Grand Palace, you were twelve and terrified. Your spine was as stiff as granite as Lord and Lady Antonov guided you into the throne room. You'd been lectured from this way to that as you got ready that day all those years back.

"Keep your hands folded, and your mouth shut," your mother said as she fussed over your hair that morning. "Don't give yourself away by speaking commonly, girl. Be a proper lady."

You could still remember how her hands threateningly tightened in your hair as she started to braid it.

"The saints will pity you if you are not believed, daughter, but they will pity you more for what I will do to you if the royal family sees through you."

That was many years ago. But despite how the time had ticked, despite how you had grown and gone across the sea and back since then, you still felt like a nervous kid as you stood in the Grand Palace.

You stared at a painting in the palace's main drawing room. It was just a study of a vase packed with flowers, yet your eyes eagerly traced the purple petals and green leaves. You tried to imagine painting such a thing, although you’d never had an iota of artistic ability. You were only desperate to distract yourself from your impending meeting.

Suddenly the doors to the drawing room opened and Nikolai stepped inside.

"My apologies for being late. I was in the Fabrikator lab and there was a small crisis to be dealt with." He gave a suave smile. "Fire's out now, though."

"You started a fire?" You raised a brow.

His nose scrunched as he chuckled, "Well, not intentionally. Please, sit."

You smiled and sat down on one of the couches. Nikolai sat across from you, pouring two cups of tea.

"Sugar? Milk?" He asked as his hands hovered over the tea tray.

"Three sugars and a splash of milk, please," you replied.

"You like your tea sweet, then?" He glanced at you, making your eyes flit down to your lap.

"I didn't have many sweets growing up. Tea was always the one place I could get away with adding as much sugar as I wanted. And now my taste for tea is permanently skewed sweeter than everyone else I know."

"Nonsense," he smirked as he handed you your teacup and saucer, "everyone else's tastes are just too bitter and boring. Personally, I go for one sugar and as much milk as will fit before overflowing. But truth be told, I much prefer coffee to tea."

"Me too," you smiled a bit. A thought came to you, and you spoke, "There was this coffee shop at the university of Ketterdam that served the best coffee. It was sweet and light all while keeping a rich flavor; I still don’t know how they accomplished that."

Nikolai sighed contently as if imagining the taste of what you've described. "Yes, Kerch coffee is leagues ahead of what we make here in Ravka, isn't it?"

"Must be the high demand of all their bankers and businesspeople," you remarked, making Nikolai chuckle softly.

"Must be."

The conversation lulled for a moment, and you noticed a bit of ash on Nikolai's otherwise pristine jacket cuff.

"So… that fire that you didn't start intentionally?" You inquired with a light tone.

He scrunched his nose again. "Yes?"

"Were you looking at some Fabrikator invention in their lab when you accidentally made it catch fire?"

"No, actually," he chuckled. "The Fabrikators were helping me work on an idea I had for a thermal converter, something that could be implemented throughout Ravkan homes to help heat houses in the winter.”

“That’s an admirable invention.” You furrowed your brow and paused for a moment. “Would it work independently of a fireplace?”

“No, it would work in tandem,” He explained. “There would be pipes connected to the fireplace that would then run along the house either on the walls or beneath the floorboards.”

“Tungsten pipes?”

“Yes. Tungsten or–”

“Nickel.”

He blinked at you. “Exactly. How did you know that?”

“I studied advanced physics at the University; we had engineering classes where we had to design and build different inventions. I designed a motorized plough but the machinations kept burning through the metals so I needed to find the best metals. In my research I found that Nickel and tungsten have high melting points. Ergo, nickel and tungsten can withstand the heat of your pipes.”

He watched you for a moment, smiling. You watched back.

Men are frightened by smart women. Your mother’s words echoed in your mind.

But Nikolai wasn’t frightened. He wasn’t put off by your intellect. He sat there smiling at you for a second longer, then he set down his teacup and leaned forward in his seat.

“Two things,” he said with a bright glint in his eye. “One: did that machinated plough of yours work?”

You nodded. “Quite well, actually. I've tried to get my father to implement it on our estate and in our region’s farms, but he’s reluctant. He thinks it’s a fool’s tool.”

“Well Lord Antonov must be wrong. I can’t imagine anything you make would be worthy of such low-esteem. If you still have the designs, I would love to share them with the Fabrikators.”

You smiled. “I have the designs.”

“Excellent.”

Again, he watched you for a second, a light expression on his face.

“What was the second thing?” you asked.

“Oh, yes,” he grinned. “Two: would you like to come see the Fabrikator workshop?”

"Absolutely." You grinned back.

……….

The workshop was its own slice of heaven. All the machinery and pending inventions called to you as Nikolai and the Fabrikators gave you a tour. You could have stayed in the workshop for hours on end, but it was nearing two o'clock, and your parents would be livid if you weren't home by then.

Nikolai walked you back through the Grand Palace to where your carriage would be waiting for you.

"We never discussed my offer of assistance, did we?" He spoke as the pair of you walked through the main entry hall.

"I suppose we got a bit distracted," you smiled guiltily.

"Shame on us," he said with a lopsided grin. You reached the front doors and two servants opened them. Nikolai stopped in the doorway and turned to you. "So, you will accept my offer?"

"To help me find a fiance?" You asked softly.

"Yes."

You glanced over at the waiting carriage. Then your eyes found his again. "Yes. I'm sure you will find a better match than my mother will. She's already written to every eligible suitor that I am back on the market."

He let out a soft laugh. "Saints, that woman works fast."

"Tell me about it," you grumbled.

He stepped towards your carriage and held his arm out for you. You took his arm and his help into your carriage.

"Thank you," you smiled gently at him from the open window. "For everything."

He shrugged. "Of course."

"Truly, I am grateful that you are doing this. Saints know what sort of person my mother would force a match with. I have faith that you will offer me options with real merit."

He gave a small laugh. "High praise."

"I'm just being honest."

"I know," he nodded as he looked up at you.

His eyes were so intent on yours. A hazel colour was so perfectly spun in his irises, and his stare felt warmer than any you'd ever seen before.

"I'll send you a list soon enough," he smiled at you. His eyes lingered for another moment, then he backed away from the carriage. "Goodbye for now, my lady."

Your chauffeur rode off, and you watched the Grand Palace slowly shrink away.

..........

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

Masterlist

Taglist:

@xceafh @rhaenyrakryze @thecrowsgambit @nghtwngs @hauntedenthusiasttragedy @stuffyownswrld @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @angie-likes-to-read @take-me-to-ny @historianthesecond

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @liter4ti @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm

#YESSSSSSSSSS #man i feel asphyxia from just reading how Reader's parents are with her #also #BESTIE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!? *shaking Nikolai like a snow globe*#y'all should get married asap #the both science nerds of you (affectionate)#funny thing that Nikolai got so easily distracted #one might think he would like yo get over it as quickly as possible to focus in other things so #I'm looking at you very closely 👀#op i hope you have a great return to classes 💕✨️

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historianthesecond · 8 months

Text

make a deal with the saints

summary: the water was pulling her down into its depths, into the darkness of death, and nothing Y/N did would let her rise to the surface. Nikolai, however, isn't ready to let her go yet.

a/n: this has been sat in the drafts for months, waiting for me to write it and tada

It was one of the worst storms Nikolai had been caught in. They usually managed to direct a storm around them with their Squallers and Tidemakers, but this time things had turned so fast there was nothing they could do.

If they’d had an army of Squallers and Tidemakers then maybe it would be possible. But they didn’t. The sailors were trying their best to keep the sails up and to tie ropes down. The Squaller’s were trying their best to keep the ship going but it was a losing battle.

Nikolai was gripping the wheel tightly, fighting against it as it tried to turn and spin out of control. His clothes were soaked through – he’d abandoned his coat down below, knowing the weight would only hold him back. Adrenaline was thrumming through his body.

He looked around the ship, eyes searching for a familiar sight. Nikolai felt panic claw at his throat for a moment. Then, he saw her. She was helping Tamar tie ropes down to the deck, ducking when yet another wave crashed over the side of the ship, drenching them all once again.

Y/N Orlova had joined his crew in Os Kervo, wanting to escape from the claustrophobic world of the Little Palace and learn more about her Squaller abilities. She’d been stuck driving the skiffs for months and yearned to see more of the world and to use her powers outside of the Fold.

She’d been with them for six months, now. Nikolai often wondered what he’d done before she’d arrived. She kept him grounded and calm even when things went out of control. He needed her more than he wanted to admit.

“The storm is moving on!” One of the Squallers yelled.

Which meant they’d soon be out the other side of it. Hopefully none the worse for wear.

Someone tapped his shoulder and he let them take over the wheel. He headed down to the main deck, struggling to maintain his balance as the ship tilted to the side.

Y/N seemed to sense his approach. She turned around, hair plastered to her head and smiled at him.

“How can you be smiling in this?” Nikolai yelled, almost falling forward to her.

Y/N shrugged. “I would rather this than the Fold!”

Nikolai couldn’t help but laugh. Despite the rain stinging his skin and the lighting forking above, he felt a spark of joy through him.

It was a spark that only Y/N could bring out. Her mere presence made life better for Nikolai. He laughed more when she was around, and he found himself gravitating towards her presence when they spent evenings below deck playing cards.

Whatever had been growing inside him over the last few months had begun to sprout. His heart was growing bigger and it hurt to know that, one day, it would inevitably have to end.

Y/N placed a hand over his and squeezed. “Are you okay?”

Nikolai blinked. He looked at her, slowly realising that she’d spoken. “Yeah, yeah,” he said quickly. “Just thinking.”

“Watch out!”

A rope had come loose from its cleat. Both Y/N and Nikolai ran forward, stopping the snaking rope before it tangled around someone’s ankle and dragged them into the water. Nikolai dragged it back up to the cleat and wrapped it around in a figure of eight until he was certain it wasn’t going to come lose again.

Nikolai stood and let out a breathy laugh as he glanced over at Y/N. She was panting, bent over with her hands on her knees. She straightened and smoothed her hair back again.

He met her gaze and smiled. It slowly fell as Y/N stared back at him, her eyes widening. Nikolai looked behind him and felt his heart stutter.

The wooden beam that was a part of one of the masts was swinging around toward them. Nikolai was shoved to the ground and, as he landed, he saw the mast hit Y/N and push her over the side of the boat and into the water.

Hitting the water felt like thousands of needles pricking her skin at once. Y/N couldn’t see anything. She didn’t know what was up or what was down. The force of the mast hitting her stomach had winded her. She was already struggling to breathe yet, now, in the depths of the ocean, the air wouldn’t come at all.

Her lungs were burning, her eyes were burning.

Y/N felt the waves toss her about, throwing her side to side, up and down. She felt her lungs tighten; her mind was screaming at her to breathe. There was nothing left. It was as if she was being crushed. The urge to exhale and inhale was overwhelming. Her chest was tight, demanding air be let in.

She obeyed.

The air gushed out, bubbles rising all around her. As soon as it gushed out, the water gushed in. It burnt her throat, her lungs. She was choking on the endless water pouring into her.

Until she wasn’t.

Calm swept over her. Even in the storm waters. Y/N looked up and, through the haze of the water and the blackness creeping in, she felt calm. Even as her body sunk lower, nothing could reach her but the calm.

Her eyes drifted closed, and bubbles escaped her lips and then… nothing.

His feet slipped on the deck as he scrambled to the side of the boat, leaning over, and staring into the water. His heart was pounding. His hands were shaking.

“Nikolai!” Tolya yelled, yanking him back from the side of the boat. He put a hand on the back of his neck and forced him to look at him. “You can’t go in there, not like this.”

Nikolai shoved him. “She’s drowning –“

“And so will you!” Tolya yelled, pushing him back.

Tamar appeared next to them, holding a coil of rope. “Here, tie this around your waist. We’ll haul you back in.”

Nikolai’s hands shook as he tried to tie the knot. Tolya silently took the rope from him and finished the knot, pulling it tight around his waist. Nikolai climbed up the side of the boat until he was standing on the very edge. He didn’t even hesitate before he jumped in.

He surfaced a wave instantly crashed over his head. For a moment, he struggled to fight against the water. Then, it calmed. Nikolai glanced up and saw one of his Tidemaker’s fighting with the waves, trying to calm it enough for him.

Nikolai took a deep breath in and dived below the water, eyes wide open, searching for Y/N. It probably would’ve made more sense to send Tamar or Tolya down – but his heart had taken over and he hadn’t thought.

The water calmed for a moment and in that precious moment, he saw her. Her body drifted in the water, completely at the mercy of the current. Nikolai grabbed her arm and pulled her body towards him. Once she was close enough, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding on to her as tight as he dared.

Nikolai gasped as he surfaced, water dripping into his eyes. He didn’t remember how they got Y/N back onto the boat. One moment he was clutching on to her in the water and the next he was handing her body over to Tolya and falling over the side of the boat into a wet, heaving puddle.

Their healer, Iva, was instantly at Y/N’s side. A healer was invaluable to a certain extent. If their patient stopped breathing, or their heart stopped, their powers became useless. They could men bones and healing wounds – but getting a heart to start again? That was a Heartrender’s job.

“Tamar,” Iva called, searching the crowd for the woman.

Tamar appeared and rushed over, falling to her knees beside Y/N. “What do you need me to do?”

Iva glanced up at Nikolai for a moment. They looked back down at Y/N. “Get her heart going,” they replied.

Tamar put the first two fingers of her right hand over her left and held them above Y/N’s chest, concentration clear on her face. She pushed down, pressing against Y/N’s chest.

Nikolai hadn’t even realised Tolya was trying to calm his heart down until he put a hand on his chest. He looked up at Tolya, the tears running down his face mixing with the saltwater dripping from his hair.

Tolya grasped the back of his neck and lowered his forehead to Nikolai’s. No words needed to be spoken – they both knew what the other was feeling. Nikolai wasn’t even bothering to hide his emotions for Y/N.

Nikolai turned his head toward her. She was still lying on the deck. Her chest was still unmoving.

Deep down, a seed of doubt had begun to bloom. Doubt about whether she’d come back and, if she did, if there’d be irreparable damage. He was trying not to let the seed grow and burst into his heart but as he stared at her body – skin lacking colour, eyes closed, chest still – it was beginning to invade.

Then, Nikolai heard a groan. He turned his head sharply, relief setting in as Y/N coughed, water spilling over her lips. Tamar rolled her onto her side and rubbed her back gently. She glanced up at Nikolai and Tolya, a relieved smile on her face.

Nikolai slumped into Tolya, relief overwhelming him. Through the exhaustion seeping into his bones, Nikolai looked down at Y/N and caught her gaze. They looked at one another, silent. Y/N blinked slowly, and it was all Nikolai needed to know she was okay.

The sleeping quarters below deck were quiet. Most people were asleep whilst some remained awake, taking shifts to watch the ocean and horizon, keeping them on the right path.

Nikolai walked down the steps from the upper deck to down below and poked his head in the doorway, letting his eyes adjust to the candlelit darkness. He walked forward, his footsteps as quiet as he could make them against the floor.

Tamar looked up from her book as he approached. She gave him a tired smile, marking her place before closing the book.

“How are you?” Nikolai asked softly.

Tamar nodded. “Tired,” she admitted. Carefully, she reached out and threaded her fingers through Nikolai’s. She squeezed. “How are you?”

At the question, Nikolai allowed himself to look over to the bunk where Y/N lay asleep. She was buried under blankets but there was colour on her face again. Even under the mounds of wool and cotton, he could see her chest moving.

“Fine now,” Nikolai whispered, his voice breaking slightly. Tamar ran her thumb along the back of his hand. His breath shuddered as he inhaled. “I thought I’d lost her.”

With one tug, Tamar pulled him down onto the crate next to her. She put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him as close as she could.

“But you didn’t,” she said firmly. “She is still here. She is still alive. As are you, Nik.” Tamar pressed a kiss to his temple. “You need to tell her the truth about your emotions. Now you know, now you have felt the fear – don’t wait.” She smiled at him. “Don’t hide from your feelings, Nikolai. They are what set you apart from anyone else I know.”

Tamar stood up, squeezing his hand once more before letting go. She walked out the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Nikolai took her seat, moving as close to the bunk as he could. Y/N’s hand was just poking out from under the blankets. Nikolai reached forward and took it in his, holding it as if it were the most precious gem he’d ever seen.

Y/N shifted on the bunk, rolling further over onto her side. Slowly, her eyes opened, and she squinted slightly at the light as she looked up at Nikolai.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and quiet.

“Hey.” Nikolai leant forward. He brushed her hair back from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. There was an unusual gentleness to his actions – they’d been this affectionate before but… this time it was different.

“Are you okay?”

Nikolai blinked. He laughed softly. “You drowned and almost died, yet you’re asking me how I am?” He sighed, letting his thumb brush across her cheekbone. “I’m fine, darling. How are you?”

“I’m cold still,” Y/N replied. She snuggled further down into the blankets. “My throat hurts as does my chest but… I’m alive.” She fell quiet for a moment, gazing up at Nikolai. “You look like shit, Lanstov.”

Nikolai burst out laughing. He shook his head as the laughter faded, the smile remaining. “You scared me, Y/N. Truly scared me. I’m so used to having you around that suddenly imagining life without you…” His smile faded slightly.

“I am a good friend,” Y/N said, nodding, her tone semi-sarcastic. “You’ve trained me well. I can imagine how difficult it would be to train a new friend again.” Y/N frowned at the silence that followed. Nikolai lowered his gaze. “Nik?”

“It wasn’t just that,” Nikolai replied. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Since we met, I’ve felt this… pull to you.”

“Nik, you’re sounding like Tolya.”

Nikolai snorted. “Yeah, I’m not great at this.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to say this.”

“Okay,” Y/N curled closer to him, “just… splurge. Doesn’t matter if it doesn’t make sense.”

And that was it. Nikolai knew, then, that it was her calmness, her ability to see through the haze of his mind and just know what he wanted to say or do. He could be spiralling out of control and Y/N would be the one thing keeping him on the ground.

That was why he loved her.

“I can’t live my life without you,” Nikolai said abruptly. “You ground me in ways no one else can. The entire world could be spiralling out of control, but you’ll be the calm in the storm.” He chuckled. “I remember when I had a bad night a few months ago. I’d tossed and turned and then given up, going up on to deck to watch the stars. Everything was haunting me – the crown, my people, my family. You found me on deck and just talked at me for an hour, distracting me from my thoughts until I’d calmed down.

“When I pulled you from the water, I was terrified that… that I’d pulled your body out but not your soul. That it was still in the water, sinking further and further down. The world stopped as I watched Tamar and Iva work. I think Tolya was worried I’d collapse on him. But the moment you opened your eyes and looked at me, my world started moving again. And I realised that… I love you in so many ways, I can’t put them all into words.”

If Y/N was taken aback by the abrupt revelation, she didn’t show it. Her face was calm, betraying nothing.

Nikolai laughed softly, shaking his head. “I know I am a prince, Y/N. I know there are rules and laws. I know that one day I will be king. Loving me isn’t easy, I know. Being with me isn’t easy. But… I just…”

Nikolai trailed off, words failing him.

Y/N propped herself up onto her elbow, dislodging the blankets around her. She took both of Nikolai’s hands with hers, running her thumbs along the back of them. Nikolai looked at her. Her gaze was intense. It was warm. It was understanding.

“I knew who I was becoming friends with, Nik,” Y/N said gently. “Prince Nikolai Lanstov – heir to the Ravkan throne. I knew what it would come with and how hard it will be. And I know loving you will be even harder.” Nikolai couldn’t breathe. Y/N squeezed his hands. “Yet I will gladly fight the battles if it means I get to wake up next to you in the morning. I will stand behind you if it means I can hold your hand in the shadows. I will be your consort if it means I can love you for however long we live for.”

Nikolai stared at her. Everything he’d wanted to say, she’d said perfectly. Everything he’d thought, he’d felt – she’d spoken it aloud.

“I know who I fell in love with, Nikolai,” Y/N said, watching him intently. She smiled, placing a hand on the side of his face. “I wanted to say something but… I thought it best if I waited for you. In case it wasn’t reciprocated. In case it wasn’t what you wanted.”

It was hard to confess your love. It was even harder when it was a prince. Nikolai knew this. He knew that whoever he fell in love with, would have to sacrifice everything to be with him. Yet here was Y/N, opening her heart whilst fully understanding the consequences.

“Are you going to kiss me now, princeling?”

Nikolai laughed and leant forward, capturing her lips with his. She kissed him back, pressing into him, her hand wrapping around the back of his neck and holding him. They broke apart, resting their foreheads together, breathing heavily.

“Queen Y/N and King Nikolai does have a ring to it,” Y/N whispered into his ear.

Nikolai pulled back, his brow furrowing even as he smiled. “Why are you first? Surely it should be King Nikolai and Queen Y/N.”

“Because.” She pressed her lips to his again, smiling. “I want it that way.”

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historianthesecond · 8 months

Photo

“I want to kiss you,” Nikolai said. “But I won’t. Not until you’re thinking of me instead of trying to forget him.”

#blushming rn

2K notes · View notes

historianthesecond · 8 months

Note

Hiii~ I LOVE who came in with the sea (very thrilled to read where the story is going!!) So I wanted to request a fic inspired on that

Maybe where mermaid!reader is married with Nikolai, and they both live in the palace, and from time to time Nikolai surprises reader swimming at the lake, so he just likes to see by the docks and watch her hehehe

Thank you! Have a happy week >:3

Hi! Sorry this one took so long kdjdjkdjk I'm not still 100% about this, but I'm struggling with writing rn so I hope you like it 🙈

Moonlight Mirror

Nikolai Lantsov x Mermaid!Fem!Reader---1.2K----SFW

Tags: Established Relationship | No Plot Pure Fluff |

Nikolai was used to hearing the sudden splashes of water around the lake while he tinkered with the Hummingbird, or any of his new ships, the movement creating waves that crashed along the polished hull.

You made him company in those strange moments in which either of you had many duties to complete in the day—you could always cuddle in bed and work until the oil lamp emptied.

It was late already, with his mind so focused he couldn't figure out how many bells had just chimed, the metallic echo falling into the still night air, the critters from the gardens around quickly restarting their melody.

Sighing, he took a rag and cleaned his hands, long streaks of black oil marking the white cotton. Nikolai put them on the seat he was just occupying, his eyes drawn to watch over the wooden rail at the still surface of the water.

You surely were enjoying the cold water at the bottom, which how a layer of sweat clung to his shirt, the summer air feeling more like the hellish breeze that blew from the ovens inside the kitchen than a break from the inclement weather.

The wooden boards of the docks creaked under his boots until he stopped at the edge of the one occupied by the ramp to climb into the ship. The water looked like a mirror, showing the almost full moon dotted with stars in the clear sky.

While he sat, ripples broke the calmness as your head surfaced, the dorsal fins around your ears shining silver against the moonlight.

You beamed, submerging your head in the water once again before appearing right in front of him seconds later.

“Hi, handsome,” you said, your hair floating around the water. You handed him a wrench that had slipped out his hands a couple of hours ago, as you always loved to look for shiny things underwater, your wedding ring shining gold catching his attention with the movement.

It was common to end up surprised at catching a glimpse of it now and then. That you were married to him despite everything you had to endure, so much that sometimes he thought it was wiser to just let you go.

His hands interlaced with yours, the wrench secured in the middle of the dock. A giggle bubbled out your lips when you felt his lips brushing your inner wrist.

"Come here, lovely," Nikolai muttered against your skin, leaning against you to carry you out of the water. He was used to feeling the smooth and cold surface of your tail, white and silver and artic blue that curled around him. "I missed you," he said, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck. You still smelled like the stormy seas of the north, of salt and fresh, cold wind blowing over the icebergs navigating over the infinity of cerulean blue.

You laughed, moving your tail up and down to fit better on his lap. “I was here all the time.”

“Not close enough.” To prove his point he held you closer, not caring that now his clothes were soaked. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. “This close would do. For now.”

You looked at him, some beads of water running down your face, eyes blinking between the yellow tones with vertical slits, like trapped amber, and your human ones, sweet and filled with adoration. “You wouldn’t finish anything if I were this close.”

Nikolai chuckled, hands lovingly cradling your body. “My wife truly is the wisest.”

Crooning your neck, you looked back at the shadowy silhouette of the Hummingbird, its ghostly sails carefully tied into the masts. You could reminisce about all the times you’d been aboard its tiny deck, flying one with the clouds as Nikolai pointed down at the cities you passed by, seeing colorful roofs and tall churches and schools, new bridges being built and roads open through the hills.

Your new home, you thought, leaning closer to Nikolai's warm arms around your waist. This is what home is about.

“Is she ready?” you asked, pulling his head slightly away to clean a stain of oil off his cheek.

His eyes twinkled with pride. "Yes. I fixed the engine so the turbines could help balance the hull. It seems last time I didn't oil them completely, thus why they got stuck."

Thankfully, he had crashed into a thick canopy not so far from the Grand Palace. With a visit from the physician and the Healers, he recovered enough to try his new invention again after a couple of days.

Nikolai kissed the top of your head. “Are you going to Notvy Zem with me then?” he said, a sly grin on his face.

“Are you going to use this business trip as another makeshift honeymoon?” you couldn’t stop from asking, which made him laugh. It wouldn’t help that you did go to Notvy Zem in your real honeymoon, three years ago.

“It’s almost our anniversary.”

“Your priorities astound me, Kolya.”

He smiled, trailing a path of kisses down your neck. “It’s on you for being so enticing,” Nikolai muttered against your ear, your body wiggling as you got ticklish from his soft, fleeting kisses.

You hummed, giving in quickly under his touch. “Of course, I’ll go with you.”

Truth was, Nikolai wanted to swim with you on the tropical shores of the foreign nation, there where the water was turquoise clear, colorful, and blooming with life around the coral reefs. You seldom wanted to swim with him in the lake in front of the Little Palace for how cold and profound it was, fearing something would happen to him.

"No," you said about two months before your wedding, blocking his way toward the docks. "Last time you caught a cold. It's dangerous."

"I'm healthy again, my love. I'll be fine." But you weren't convinced, dragging him back to your room where he settled with sharing a warm bathtub.

Which reminded him... "Let's go, gorgeous." You slipped out of his grasp once your tail was gone, with him standing up and unbuttoning his coat to cover you with it before you could protest. “A refreshing bath is awaiting us.”

“But my clothes—” you started, feeling the soft fabric of velvet and cotton against your bare back. It wasn’t cold to wear one, but the fabric smelled like him, like expensive cologne and brandy and burned oil, so you kept it.

“They won’t be needed,” he told you, and you were about to gasp, faking shock even if your stomach was fluttering.

Nikolai fetched them, your light skirts and silk blouse hung over his shoulder as he squatted down to lift you in his arms. You hung onto him, kissing the outline of his jaw as he walked back to the Grand Palace, the guards nodding in your direction as they were used to the view by now.

You with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, a boyish smile on his lips as he gazed down at you as if you'd been lighting up the stars that were flicking you goodnight with your hands. Words weren't necessary anymore; love was shown as clear as the sky of that peaceful summer night.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lanstov x reader #shadow and bone x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lanstov x you #shadow and bone x you

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historianthesecond · 8 months

Note

If requests for Nikolai are still open, how about the good old jealousy trope? Either a jealous Nikolai or a jealous reader? I don't mind either way. And I'd prefer an established relationship but even if you don't want to do that that's cool. Thanks!

Hi! Thank you for your request! Hope you like it. Sorry, it took a little while to write.

Flames of a Feeling

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Warnings: jealousy

Word Count: 1,711

Notes: I kinda like it when men are jealous but not toxic. Also, Nikolai being obsessed with his girl is just making me blush.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Nikolai felt his veins burn with the flames. The flames went through his whole body and then finally found his brain. His brain was melting with the feeling he did not want. He knew that you loved him. You never tried to hide it and gifted him your love and affection. He just couldn't help himself. He maybe this primitive feeling was just for a moment, and then it would all be gone.

He was wrong.

Even if it's been two days, he felt this feeling he didn't want to name burn his whole body. The feeling was altering his mind. He loved his wife and when he tried to give this feeling a reason, he told that to himself.

He loves his wife, that's why he's jealous.

His trust in his wife was infinite. If he went blind, he would trust you to direct him. The problem was not trust. Nikolai had found the problem in himself. While he was drinking his kvas, he was thinking about this matter. His wife was laughing and having fun with another man, which was your old friend. Nikolai never knew this man because he was from your hometown, but heard of him before. From his wife.

You would tell him how talented he was. He was even good at shooting, dancing, and sailing. He was kind, thoughtful, and handsome. He was not blond as Nikolai was but it was not the deal.

The deal was he had hurt his wife because of his feelings towards this man. And the worst part was you didn't understand why he was jealous. You knew he was but you didn't know the reason. You were having fun with the reason at this moment.

Your friend, Jay, was going today and you were outside of the palace with him. Nikolai knew the moment you stepped in Ravka you loved the kingdom and you were so eager to show this exquisite beauty to your dear friend. You had invited your husband but Nikolai had to refuse. He couldn't stand the guy. Even though he was a good man Nikolai wanted to choke him in the sea.

Maybe that would show his sailing skills.

"Saints," he sighed. "What am I thinking?"

If you knew the thing that crossed his mind, you would be so upset about it. Nikolai didn't want to break his wife's heart, so he really needed to calm himself down and sort the problem out.

He left his glass on his desk and got out of his room before he could even think. He was furious with himself because he was so desperate for your affection. He was craving your attention. He was jealous and selfish. You were all he could think, drunk or sober it didn't matter. He was in love with you and he was jealous of your relationship with your friend.

The moment he left the study room he saw you slowly walking. A smile was there, hanging on your lips. Nikolai loved seeing your smile. Your happiness was his comfort. Those lips... He just couldn't stop thinking about them. The way their shape changed when you smiled made his heart beat faster and wilder.

Nikolai had every right to be jealous. You were gorgeous, and kind and made him feel every emotion at the same time. However, he did not feel comfortable with this particular feeling.

"Nikolai," He heard your voice. He didn't realize you were this close to him. "Is everything okay, love?" You asked while your brows shaped into a frown. Still beautiful.

"Yes, everything's all right." He found himself saying those words. It made his tongue burn in some way. "I just wanted to come for you. I thought I'd broken your heart with my attitude this morning."

You just laughed at him. "You did not break my heart." You said. "Jay has a long way beyond. I just wanted to say a proper goodbye to him. This might be the last time I see him."

Why did he just feel so relieved?

He followed you as if he were a lost puppy when you started to walk into the palace. "I'm sorry to hear that." He said. The lie had marked his tongue. He felt like lying to the beauty was a sin in itself. "Did you have a goos time though?"

Your smile grew bigger, "It would've been better if you were there with me but it was fun."

He felt the sudden guilt possess all over his mind. He didn't want to break your heart or upset you, but he did it because he was just jealous. It didn't feel right. Nikolai's brain stopped working since your friend Jay came to Ravka and he couldn't find a way to start it again.

"I was a little busy today," He wanted to come up with a joke but the words that had left his mouth were all lies. He didn't do anything besides drinking and thinking. He was relieved that he was still sober. "I hope you're not upset with me, love."

"No, why would I be upset about this. Don't be ridiculous, Nik." You held his hand in a tight grip. "I just thought you were off today. Because last night you worked till three in the morning. That's why I've invited you."

Nikolai wanted to slap himself. He wasn't acting like himself for days and he hated it. What you said was true, he did some paperwork at night and came to bed after three in the morning. He was off today because he knew that Jay would be gone today. He had presumed that Jay would be gone earlier than this and Nikolai would have you all to himself, spend time with you, and beat jealousy. It didn't go as he planned.

"There was something important that I must have been missed last night."

"Did you sort it out?"

"Your trust in your excellent husband might be gone, love. Of course, I did." He winked at you and you slightly blushed.

You stopped at the door to the library. He was following you without asking about the destination. You rose on your tiptoes and kissed his sweet lips. Although you wanted to keep the kiss short he didn't let you go and deepened the kiss.

His lips were tangling with yours like a harmony that had been forgotten in history. He was trying to forget about the flames of the feeling. Nikolai only wanted to have you all to himself. He was selfish and he knew it. His feelings for you were not easy to explain.

He sighed as you parted your lips from his. There was that smile again on your pretty lips. The lips that he kissed, not Jay. The eyes looked at Nikolai with passion and love, not to Jay. The nose that tickled his neck when you shoved your face into it, not Jay's. You were his and he was yours, and there wasn't a third person in this equation.

"I love you, Y/N." He said with a serious voice. He loved you more than himself, Ravka, and his ships. More than the sea and the earth. More than the stars that hang on the night sky. More than the warmth of the sun. More than the infinity. More than more.

"I love you too, dear." You said, love dripping like honey. "More than you love me."

He leaned his forehead onto yours. "I have to admit something."

"Hm," your smile grew bigger and turned itself into a grin. "I may have a guess or two."

Of course you did.

Nikolai couldn't keep the flames inside of him anymore, so he opened his heart fully to you. He didn't even know when he closed it but it might be because of some particular friend of yours.

"I'm dying because of how jealous I am."

He opened his eyes when he heard you giggling. "I realized that." You pressed your hand to his cheek when he started to pout like a sweet child. "Nikolai, it's okay. I just wanted you to tell me when you felt comfortable. I didn't want to force you to open up."

You with your golden heart. Nikolai hugged you close as his heart started to beat faster. The heavy feeling of the emotion went off of his shoulders. "I'm sorry it took a while."

"You should because, for a damned minute, I thought you'd never tell me." You kissed his chin. "It's okay to feel jealous, my lovely king. I always feel jealous when I see you around any woman, believe me. Though, I must say even Jay understood your feelings."

He laughed at your words. "You and your friends." He left a soft kiss on your hair. "Was I a rude host?"

"The rudest, but your glamour makes everything fine."

He was grateful that you didn't judge him for this. He knew you wouldn't judge anyone by their feelings but he was scared of what you might think about him. He didn't consider that his feelings were too obvious, though. Even Jay understood!

You kissed him again as he was looking at you with dreamy eyes. This time you deepened the kiss. Your kisses made his whole heart shake. He was burning with the feeling, but it was not the same anymore. It was your pure love for him.

You smiled to his lips as you talked, "Come on, let's read together and seize what is left from the day." You pulled him with you as you opened the door.

Nikolai felt like his heart had become a feather. He felt relaxed and drunken with your love. His jealousy finally left its place for your honey-flavored love.

"Wait, you get jealous when you see any woman around me?" He asked when he understood every word that had left your mouth. He couldn't believe he missed that one.

"Nikolai!" You laughed. "Of course not, I only told that to make you reassured."

"Hmhm, I certainly believe that."

"Believe what you want."

He laughed as he cuddled you in the middle of the library. Your laugh intertwined with his.

He loved to hear your laugh.

He loved you as you loved him. Or maybe a little more.

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#aweeee this was so cute 🥺💖💖#i lost it in the part where Nikolai is following her wherever she's going 😭🤧✨️✨️#i love him so much 😮‍💨🤧

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historianthesecond · 8 months

Text

Stolen Pieces (Part Two)

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Part One

Summary: Sturmhond gives you your first mission and you find something that catches his interest.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,914

Notes: Feedback is always welcomed, lovelies! And I think this will turn into a series, but I'm not sure how long it will be. Sorry if there are any mistakes.

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You were off your mother's debts. It felt like a fever dream or some incredibly perfect written fairytale, but on the contrary, it was very real. First, you thought it would all be gone when you woke up and you'd be living your miserable life but you were assured when you actually woke up to the real world.

This morning you woke up with the sounds of waves crashing on the ship of Sturmhond, Volkvolny. So that was the moment you finally understood that they all really happened, and you were all right, except for the fact that the owner of the ship wanted you to work for him. You didn't know what you were going to do. You asked the Shu girl, Tamar, but she had said that only Sturmhond knew his plans and thoughts. He was a complicated man, and you already knew you would have a hard time with him.

So here you were in his quarters, waiting for him to do something besides observing you. You were preferably waiting for a good speech. He only hummed to himself, and it made you crazy. This man was an unbearable piece of shit that had helped you. You were grateful and all but… Did he really have to be this annoying all the time?

"Am I gonna have to wait for you to say something?" You said when you lost all the little drops of your patience. He stopped humming and looked at you in the eyes. "I can go if you'll keep looking at me like some— Anyways, just talk." You stopped yourself from saying any inappropriate word to him because that would probably cost you to lose a job before earning it.

"Like what, Sweet Y/N?" He asked softly, curiosity living in his voice as he spoke.

You didn't want to say anything but since he asked you just answered. "A pervert."

He frowned as the word left your mouth. "I think I have more honor than a pervert, but that's all right." He left the desk that he'd been leaning on and came closer to you. Every step of his made your heart beat wilder— you could even hear it in your ears. "I was thinking about the job I was going to give you. Asking myself if you could handle it, but I think you can handle it very well."

"I think you should have thought this the night we met." You said and he laughed. His laugh felt like rays of sun after a rainy day, and you could see a rainbow over there when you tried to picture it in your mind. It was a beautiful sound to hear.

"Okay then," He took a deep breath. "I want you to be my spy." You looked at him with a confused face. "What? Everyone has them these days, so why can't I?"

"I never said that you couldn't. I just don't understand why me. You really see a spy in me?" He was just a delusional stupid pirate. Did he really claim he saw a spy in you? He was definitely wrong.

"Well, you stole my money while most of my crew was on the ship, didn't you? Also, you stole many people's money and never got caught. So, yes, Milaya, I saw a spy in you. Maybe not the best, but still, you can be a good choice."

You didn't know what you should give a reaction to, the way he really wanted you to work as his spy or the fact that he called you sweet girl?

You talked when you made a decision, "I was a thief, not a spy."

"Semantics."

"How come?"

"Well, you see, a thief steals money and a spy steals information. Same thing, different handwritings." He smiled to himself as your expression changed into something more relaxed. He was kinda right, you thought. "Look, I hate to do this, but I paid your debts, and you will be twenty without any money to pay to a red-haired bastard. You owe me this position."

He was right again. You owed him and saints you didn't know what to do because being someone's spy scared you in a way you've never felt. It was a tough job to handle, and you were experienceless.

"I'm not sure about being a spy. Don't you have another job for me?" You started to pout as he shook his head. "Then maybe I— I can go?"

"You don't want that. It will cost you another debt. I don't want to force you, but this is not how you negotiate."

You hated him for being right, and you hated yourself for being stupid and asking stupid questions. Just accept it, a sound inside of you said.

You took a deep breath and answered, "Okay, I can be your spy, I guess." He clapped his hands once, and before he had a chance to speak, you opened your mouth to speak again, "But only if I can decide what I am going to do. I won't go on any mission that will probably kill me. That would be foolish for both of us."

Sturmhond looked rather excited by your decision. "You think I would do that to my one and only spy?" He took your hand and give it a small kiss. "We will be a great team Y/N dear." Then he went to his desk and handed you a paper. "This is the guy who promised me some kruge, but I think he's trying to scam me. I want you to go to his place and take some information. Such as his possessions, family, and secret lovers— if there are any. It's very easy."

You read the name of the guy— Jurren Clasen said Sturmhonds perfect handwriting. You've heard him before, you knew he was rich but you also knew not as Pekka Rollins. Maybe there was a moment you had to steal his money, but you could not recall.

"Are you going to threaten him with the information I'll give you?"

"What would you do if I said yes?" He huffed when you gave him a frown. "I'm not gonna threaten him, I am just trying to understand if he ran out of money or just dumped me."

You released a deep breath. "Fine, I'll go tonight?"

He nodded, "Tonight's fine."

"Okay."

"Okay." He mimicked your word as you shoved the paper into your pocket. You didn't say any other word as you head for the door. "Any information that will give his financial situation will do, Milaya."

Again, sweet girl. You rolled your eyes as your heart reacted to the stupid word. "Understood." You said before you left.

You decided to read the note again. There was only his name and address. There were some rumors about Jurren Clasen and Jan Van Eck, the people had claimed that they started to work together in some way. You knew that Jurren was not powerful to be in the Merchant Council, so you thought maybe Jan Van Eck was only using him— If the rumors were true, of course.

You went to the quarters that you shared with Tamar since you had nothing to do, and you didn't know anyone in the crew. You had no one to talk to or spend time with. You just had yourself as always. You knew that you were all alone since your mother died, but it wasn't a problem. People always get used to loneliness until they get sick of it. You weren't sick of it yet, but you were afraid of the day that you will.

It made your stomach turn. The idea of losing the will to live scared you. You had to find a branch to hold on to and erase the thought of a rope to hang yourself to. The will of living was in there, you just had to dive in and rise it to the surface.

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It was deadly dark. It reminded you of the night you met Sturmond. It was practically yesterday, but it felt like it was ages ago.

You found your way as you tried to trust the dark. The outside was cold and it made you shiver. No one was awake as you expected. You only hoped that he was not in his study room.

You felt like a ghost who hides beneath the shadows as you climbed and reached the window of Jurren's study room. Carefully you looked inside, feeling relieved when you saw no one. You opened the window with the little knife you had. You and the knife had a special bond because it was with you the whole time you've been a thief. It was sad that you only trusted the unanimated things.

The moment you were inside the mansion, the time stopped. As quiet as a mouse you started to look for something that would work. He had said any information, so everything was what you were looking for. Just find anything and go.

Quietly you searched inside the drawers. You tried to read every piece of paperwork and his notes. After checking all the documents that you could find you turned your eyes to the desk. You looked into the notebook that lay there. It had plans and arrangements for his works. That should do, you thought. You opened it without giving any harm and started to read it. You understood every word except for one— Jurda Parem. You had no idea what it was but it sounded strange to you. So you noted it on the paper that you brought with you. You would probably forget the word if you didn't.

When you heard voices you hurried up and left everything in their places. You, fortunately, had time to go outside before they got into the study room and unfortunately, you could not see who they were.

The next stop was Volkvolny. You never looked back while you ran. You slowed yourself when you reached the harbor where the ship waited for you. Your breath got stuck in your lung because of the run and you needed air more than anything. The thought of it would've been funny in another moment.

"You're back! Fantastic." You heard his voice when you stepped on the deck. "What did you find out?" You needed to catch your breath so you didn't say anything and gave him the paper. "Jurda Parem? This sounds interesting."

"You know what that is?" You asked.

"Not exactly, but now I will have to do my homework." He checked you for a moment. "Anything else?"

You gave a brief moment to think about everything you've seen. "He has a wife but no children, but I guess you already know that. I don't think he has a secret lover because his diary is full of his wife. He has another house near the University District and his bank is full of kruge according to the documents in his drawers."

"So he did not suddenly become poor. Why does everyone think that I am a fool?" He muttered to himself and you couldn't help but reply,

"Maybe because they think stealing and saying aarg is the only thing that pirates do?"

His expression changed into a frown. "I am a privateer, Milaya. Please don't make me repeat myself."

"Good night, pirate."

You heard him laugh as you walked away. His laugh was indeed beautiful to the ears which listened.

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#bestie this plot is thickening real thick #like my gawd jurda parem already??????#and this time with Nikolai's perspective *mhaw*#chef's kiss #also #nikolai is just plain shameless lmaoooo #how's that to kiss Reader's hand? siiiiir 😳👉👈#and call her milaya #i love him so.much 🥺💖💖#he's annoying your honor but i can take him #i hope reader can find a family aboard the Volkvolny 💕

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historianthesecond · 8 months

Text

Stolen Pieces (Part Two)

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Part One

Summary: Sturmhond gives you your first mission and you find something that catches his interest.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,914

Notes: Feedback is always welcomed, lovelies! And I think this will turn into a series, but I'm not sure how long it will be. Sorry if there are any mistakes.

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"Like what, Sweet Y/N?" He asked softly, curiosity living in his voice as he spoke.

You didn't want to say anything but since he asked you just answered. "A pervert."

"Okay then," He took a deep breath. "I want you to be my spy." You looked at him with a confused face. "What? Everyone has them these days, so why can't I?"

"I never said that you couldn't. I just don't understand why me. You really see a spy in me?" He was just a delusional stupid pirate. Did he really claim he saw a spy in you? He was definitely wrong.

You didn't know what you should give a reaction to, the way he really wanted you to work as his spy or the fact that he called you sweet girl?

You talked when you made a decision, "I was a thief, not a spy."

"Semantics."

"How come?"

He was right again. You owed him and saints you didn't know what to do because being someone's spy scared you in a way you've never felt. It was a tough job to handle, and you were experienceless.

"I'm not sure about being a spy. Don't you have another job for me?" You started to pout as he shook his head. "Then maybe I— I can go?"

"You don't want that. It will cost you another debt. I don't want to force you, but this is not how you negotiate."

You hated him for being right, and you hated yourself for being stupid and asking stupid questions. Just accept it, a sound inside of you said.

"Are you going to threaten him with the information I'll give you?"

"What would you do if I said yes?" He huffed when you gave him a frown. "I'm not gonna threaten him, I am just trying to understand if he ran out of money or just dumped me."

You released a deep breath. "Fine, I'll go tonight?"

He nodded, "Tonight's fine."

"Okay."

Again, sweet girl. You rolled your eyes as your heart reacted to the stupid word. "Understood." You said before you left.

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It was deadly dark. It reminded you of the night you met Sturmond. It was practically yesterday, but it felt like it was ages ago.

You found your way as you tried to trust the dark. The outside was cold and it made you shiver. No one was awake as you expected. You only hoped that he was not in his study room.

"You know what that is?" You asked.

"Not exactly, but now I will have to do my homework." He checked you for a moment. "Anything else?"

"So he did not suddenly become poor. Why does everyone think that I am a fool?" He muttered to himself and you couldn't help but reply,

"Maybe because they think stealing and saying aarg is the only thing that pirates do?"

His expression changed into a frown. "I am a privateer, Milaya. Please don't make me repeat myself."

"Good night, pirate."

You heard him laugh as you walked away. His laugh was indeed beautiful to the ears which listened.

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#tbr #omgggg don't tell me i almost missed it

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historianthesecond · 8 months

Text

A Start- N.L x fem! reader

all right! This one was requested by @naushtheaspiringauthor! Naush, if you're reading this I am so sorry that this request took so long to write! I've been struggling with motivation as far as writing requests is concerned lately and today I had a bit of coffee to help me get started! I hope you like it and if you don't, feel free to reach out and I'll make the necessary changes.

The type of Grisha that was wanted for this fic was never specified so I went ahead and had her be a tidemaker, which I hope is all right!

Fic type-this is a bit of both angst and fluff

warnings- a lot of mentions of the war, a mention of throwing someone overboard, and this is not my best work as far as editing is concerned--I kind of rushed it a bit because I am running on motivative fumes right now and didn't want to lose motivation part of the way through the editing process.

You were standing at the bow of the Volkvolny, Alina Starkov not three feet to your left. She had her gaze to the sea just as you did, unblinking and unphased but relentless in her hatred for the Darkling, just as everyone else silently was on the boat.

You were one of the Tidemakers on Sturmhonds crew, having been brought on by Tamar and only on your second day aboard the Volkvolny. You hadn't officially met Sturmhond yet but you didn't doubt that you would in due time, if the hostage situation that the Darkling had brought onto the boat was to be of any indication.

Your gaze was on the sea as the Darkling approached and hauled Alina away, lost in your own thoughts of life when you got to land again--comfortable bed, decent food, everything you needed to be content in that moment.

You headed away from the bow of the ship, thanking Tamar as she passed you one of the rum rations she'd just won in a game of cards, trying not to listen in on the conversation between Alina, Sturmhond, and the Darkling that was happening barely three feet away from you. You nearly let your curiosity get the best of you but with a sip of your rum you found yourself tired and ready to do anything but eavesdrop.

You let Tamar drag you off to a game of rummy, laughing a bit as she led you away and your rum sloshed around a bit in the mug, ready to get drunker than words could describe and barely remember it all through the haze generated by your headache the following morning.

The weeks passed, and you found yourself assigned to Mals care. You didn't fight it because, while you were on Sturmhonds crew, you were stuck taking orders from the Darkling while Mal hunted for the Sea Whip and Alinas second amplifier. With the second amplifier, Alina would get stronger, and eventually she'd be able to kill him.

You planned to watch the Darkling meet the end he deserved, for all that he'd done to your country and for all that he'd done to the people you held closest, and if getting a step closer to witnessing his death meant looking after one of the people he took prisoner, so be it.

Mal noticed that you, for someone who he thought must've been on the Darklings staff, were much kinder than those he'd dealt with in the previous few days, and as you purposefully lead him past Alina so that their hands might graze for a moment, a fleeting look might have been exchanged, all you could do was shrug.

"He trusts me because I'm willing to wear a bit of black and because the bastard thinks of Sturmhonds crew as his bloody own," you said. "Enjoy your fresh air while it lasts, lover boy. I'll try to persuade Alinas guards into letting the two of you have a chat after dinner."

"Why are you being so kind to us?" Mal asked, ignoring the whip of the wind as it drove past the two of you. "You seem quite stoic."

"You're using stoic in the place of rude and I don't appreciate that--I am stoic but rude is not something that I am or ever will be," you said. "I am being kind to you because you've gone without it for too long. You go without kindness for more than a few weeks and you'll turn out exactly as I have--reluctant to let people in, keeping everyone at arms length. Nothing will happen to you if you go down that route, and if anything does happen to you, it will be as rare as a dandelion in winter."

"And I think it's because of Sturmhond," Mal said. "You've clearly started to fancy the bloke and maybe you think that getting in our good favor will get you in his?"

"I am a twenty-one year old woman," you said. "I do not need to ferry the favor of a couple of seventeen year olds, regardless of the fact that one of them is a saint, to gain the favor of my own bloody boss, Mr. Oretsev, but thank you for that. I totally appreciate your assumptions."

"It's not an assumption," Mal said. "It's an observation. I noticed the way that you watched him when he was with Alina the other day--you don't think you're the type he'll fall for, do you? That's why, even despite the fact that every time he grins at you flirtatiously you grin back like a sheep caught between the crossfire of two gun wielding idiots, you haven't made a move? You haven't offered him the rum ration you win from a game of rummy?"

"Another word of Sturmhond and I will throw the both of us overboard, Mr. Oretsev. Am I understood?"

"You are indeed," Mal said. "I would even say that I understand your words as well as I understand your lovesickness whenever you look at him--Alinas taken to calling him the clever fox because of his hair. You're falling for a ginger. You have a good time with that."

You scoffed, having no intention to make good on your threats to him.

It was true that you'd fallen for the handsome privateer and it was also true that, in direct relation to his treatment of Alina, you never thought he would fall for one of your sort. A privateer and a Grisha wouldn't work and you had no idea why, in the weeks since you were first brought onto the team by Tamar, you'd thought it probably could've.

They were your delusions, though, and because they were your delusions you would learn to live with them just as everyone else learned to live with their own.

Time passed. The civil war was ended in a burst of sun and star and the death of a saint. Nikolai returned to his palaces and found that they felt too empty for his liking.

He couldn't place why, nor what could've been done to fix it, until one day Tamar came into the guards break room smiling, a letter in hand.

"Got a pen pal, do you?" Nikolai asked. At that, Tamar scrunched her nose in his direction and gestured to the plate of biscuits on the center of the table at which they sat. Genya pushed back a curtain to let a bit of light into the room, and begrudgingly, Nikolai grabbed a biscuit.

"Tame your demons today," Tamar said. "We have a trip to make to Ketterdam and I have secured us a place to stay that's not the embassy but will indeed provide more than enough protection in it's place while renovations continue after the oil leak. Nikolai, you remember Y/N, don't you?"

The girl he'd fallen for during the civil war? How could he ever have forgotten.

He'd loved you in silence, in glances to you while you stood and chatted with Zoya and Genya, while you laughed with Tamar and stole pieces of bacon from Tolya in exchange for your rum rations while travelling. The way he'd felt about you had snuck up on him in the days of the civil war, and despite all of his trying, it hadn't gone away since.

"How can he forget her?" Zoya asked. "The amount of loving looks he thinks nobody saw him give her during the war is astounding. Why bring her up?"

"Well, as mentioned, there was an oil leak at the Ravkan Embassy. We needed a place to stay in Ketterdam while we're there on business so I figured I'd reach out to a rumored member of the Council of Tides and see what she could do."

"And what all has she done?" Nikolai asked.

"She lives in a mansion in the merchants district. Six bedrooms and a nice kitchen, good food for the duration of our stay. I asked if she wouldn't mind our company and she said to come whenever."

Zoya smirked and Genya clasped her hands together, a grin adorning her face almost instantly. Nikolais gaze drifted to David, who was watching his wife with a smile of his own.

"I've missed her," Genya said. "I know we'll be there on business but it'll be nice to see an old friend."

Zoya glanced at Nikolai. "Or perhaps reignite an old flame," she said as Tamar wiggled her eyebrows, a giggle befalling her lips as she did.

"A flame that was never ignited in the first place?" Nikolai asked. "Write back to Y/N thanking her for her ability to accommodate us. I will see to it that she is fairly compensated for allowing us to lodge with her if she finds taking time off of work a necessity."

Tamar nodded. "I already wrote a note and sent it along," she said. "Eat breakfast, Nikolai. Your stuff is packed and waiting on the ship. We leave today."

"Ring for tea, will you?" David asked. Nikolai laughed a bit but did Davids bidding, trying to mentally get himself ready to visit the woman he loved but had not seen in too much time to count.

Two weeks came to pass, and Nikolai had found himself approaching your garden, mug of tea in hand, as he couldn't sleep.

The demon took him over when he slept and most nights, while the demon had indeed taken a step back that trip, he didn't like the idea of closing his eyes and letting himself drift off. When Nikolais conscious faded, the demons conscious set in, and he didn't want to know what kind of damage the demon could do to you or the kind of damage you could do to it in the name of self defense.

He flinched when he saw you--you'd hardly interacted in the two days since he, the triumvirate, Tamar and Tolya had come. He was hoping you wouldn't notice him because who, exactly, wants to have their first conversation in several years at three in the morning?

"I heard you making your tea," you said. "Come on out. I've been meaning to talk to you since you first showed up, but I couldn't really find the words to do it."

Nikolai stepped out into the garden, came to sit next to you on a bench made of fabrikator altered obsidian--Nikolai had heard you and Tamar discussing it, and you'd said it was infused with Grisha steel to make sure it lasted as long as possible.

"You work for the Council of Tides, yeah?"

"We're supposed to remain anonymous," you said. "I can't tell you that."

"You worked from eight this morning to midnight. That's sixteen hours."

"And in thanks for covering my coworkers shift, they're covering mine tomorrow. I will be stuck in this house all day long," you said. "I do work for the Council of Tides, for the record, but if you say as much to anyone, I will risk the treason charge and have you hanged. It was an opportunity and I took it because it was that or worry about everything in Ravka. I chose the one less likely to kill me."

"They clearly pay you well enough," he said. "Seven figures, I'd imagine."

"The money I make in a year is enough to have Ravka debt free and the treasury restored within four of them," you said. "It's ridiculous, but I either make good money and live in this mansion and pinch my pennies so that I can make sure I have a good foot to stand on when I sell this place and go somewhere new, or I don't make good money and end up living in the crime districts. I had enough of fighting, of open wounds and of shouting in the streets during the war."

Nikolai nodded. "I don't blame you," he said. "However, if making a donation to Ravka is ever in your cards..."

You laughed. "You are so lucky I find your face kissable rather than punchable. Had I found it punchable I would've done it just then."

Nikolai laughed in turn. "You've been missed around the palaces," he said. "I mean--your absence has been disdained by lots of us."

"Who?" You asked. "I write with the lot of them rather frequently--went to see Alina and Mal just last week with a couple of loaves of bread made by Kerch born bakers! Who's disdained my absence, Mr. Lantsov? Everyone seems to be getting on just fine without me."

"Your absence has been disdain by one person," he said. "Me. I couldn't figure it out for a while but then it clicked and now I just--fuck, I feel stupid."

You laughed. "You could've just said you missed me," you said. "I was barely a presence at the palaces beforehand, but I can indeed understand why you would miss seeing me browsing the books in the library you never went into."

"I was busy!" Nikolai shouted, laughing a bit and startling himself with the volume of his words. "I was busy, Y/N, trying to win a war, and when I wasn't I was indeed watching you look at the books. You always got so focused in the libraries--I've spent my time in your absence reminiscing on it."

You laughed. Nikolai set his cup of tea on the ground.

"I loved you during that time," you said. "I really loved you, Nikolai. Didn't think you'd feel the same."

"I did," Nikolai said. "--I still do, Y/N. I haven't stopped for all of my trying."

You blinked. You'd been trying to move on from the war, all that you felt during it and everything that happened. You'd told yourself you'd only hold onto friendships, onto the good memories that came of the war because those good memories were amazing and they were few and far between, so holding onto them could only make sense rather than letting them go.

You supposed that Nikolai was one of those memories. He was a good memory in spite of all of the yearning, a good memory despite the fact that you'd spent so much of your time drowning in the idea that he could never love you like you loved him.

"Do you love me still?" Nikolai asked. "You said that you loved me then. Do you love me now?"

It had been something you were trying to forget. You didn't want to forget it anymore.

"I do," you said. "I don't think I ever stopped, despite how much I wanted to leave everything behind me."

Nikolai grinned. "May I kiss you?"

And you nodded, and then his lips were on yours and it almost felt as though a piece of your life that had been missing since the end of the war had slid back into it's place.

You loved Nikolai, and Nikolai loved you, and while it wasn't much, it was certainly a start.

#tbr once i get back homeee #nikolai lantsov x reader

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historianthesecond · 8 months

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heart - nikolai lantsov x reader

gender non-specific, reader is grisha (sort of)

a/n: had this idea for a while, so i thought i'd finally finished it. even though season 2 came out a while ago now. thanks for reading! <3

word count: 1323

The sea was calm. The night was peaceful. And the wind meant no squallers were on duty. The deck was a perfectly private place for you to mope.

You are the beloved healer of the Volkvolny. At least you were before you lost your powers, hence the moping.

You had gotten injured. Badly. You barely remember anything from the incident, only that the whole crew took on the joint responsibility of nursing you back to health.

There was irony in that, you thought.

You've been up on your feet for a couple of days now. It didn't take long for you to realise your lack of healing abilities. The crew quickly came to comfort.

"You just need more rest."

"We'll find a way to fix it."

"What matters is you're ok."

Their sentiments were kind. But it didn't stop the unease you felt. You couldn't sleep because of it. So there you stood, leaning over the ship's edge and watching dark waters pass by.

You hear footsteps approaching. You recognise them. Nikolai.

"What are you doing out here?" he asks.

You turn to look at him. You notice the effects of Sturmhond from the day are gone. Tonight, he is simply Prince Nikolai, adorable and dishevelled as he is.

He looks angelic in the moonlight.

You look back at the sea, stopping yourself from staring at him further.

"Just getting some air," you reply.

Nikolai joins you by the side of the ship. "It's freezing out here, love."

"It's not too bad," you say.

A moment of silence passes. You feel Nikolai's gaze on you while yours stays fixed on the water.

"Alright, tell me what's wrong," he says.

You look at Nikolai again. He is indeed looking at you, waiting expectantly.

"Nothing's wrong," you're quick to reply.

"Is this about everything that's happened?"

When you hesitate to answer, he continues. "You know you can tell me anything."

Alright, you think. Nikolai's not going to let you get out of this.

You take a breath. "It's just… everyone here has a purpose. I had one too. And now I don't. So you can imagine how I feel."

A second of silence passes.

"Need I remind you that you almost died?" Nikolai replies.

"Yeah, but I should be better now," you argue.

"You've been through a lot lately. You can't blame yourself for anything that's happened," Nikolai says, "And besides, you are so much more than just your powers."

"How do I know you're not just saying that?"

"I swear to you I'm not," he tells you, "You're gracious and thoughtful, both to me and the crew. And you're the kindest companion anyone could ask for. I really mean it."

You look at him, unsure of what to say. In your silence, Nikolai takes your hand.

"And your powers aren't completely gone," he places your hand over his chest, "You still heal my aching heart."

You're glad the dark somewhat masks your reaction, "That's really corny, Nikolai."

"Yeah, I know," he smiles, "But you love it."

"Well, I suppose you're not wrong," you say, smiling too, "Thanks, Nik."

Nikolai pulls you into a hug. His arms, full of intent, wrap around your shoulders. You reciprocate, finding comfort within.

You know he means everything he has said to you tonight. The way he holds you now proves it.

"You're most welcome, love," he replies.

A few moments pass before you two separate, and you finally notice how cold it is.

"Hey, there's something I want to give you," Nikolai says, "Come back to my room with me?"

"Oh, sure," you say.

Nikolai smiles as he takes your hand and leads you inside. You liked seeing his room. As Sturmhond, he doesn't get to have many possessions, so it's interesting to see what he keeps around.

After much anticipation, he stops at the dresser. "Ok, close your eyes and hold out your hand."

You do as he says, only slightly sceptical of what might await you. A heavy metal object is placed in your hand.

"Alright, now open," Nikolai says.

You open your eyes. A golden compass with intricate patterns and royal blue highlights sits on your palm. The shine it radiates tells you that it's still very new.

"Saints, it's beautiful!" you say, admiring the delicate craftsmanship.

"I was planning to save it for your birthday or something, but I don't want to wait any longer," Nikolai tells you.

"I'm glad you don't. Where did you get it from?"

"I saw it at the markets the other day. It reminded me of you, so I knew I had to get it."

You laugh, "That's two for two on corniess, Nikolai."

"I'm sorry, I can't help myself," he smiles.

"Well, thank you, it's lovely."

"Maybe I could get a kiss in return?" He faces his cheek towards you.

He really is adorable, you think. Without much deliberation, you step towards him, turn his head to face you and kiss him on the lips.

It's heaven.

You're unsure how much time passes before you realise what you are doing.

You pull away. Nikolai's smiling.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," you're quick to say.

"No need to apologise," he says.

You take a second to evaluate. Nikolai's arms are around your waist. And you definitely remember him kissing you back.

"So," he continues, "Does this mean you like the compass?"

You laugh, "Yes. Yes, I love it. Thank you."

"It's my pleasure," he says.

The two of you stand for a moment longer before you take a small step back. You notice Nikolai doesn't loosen his grip around you.

"I should probably head back to my bunk," you say.

Nikolai's expression falters.

You're about to ask him what's wrong until he asks you, "Would you maybe like to spend the night here?"

You're slightly taken aback. "Oh, are you sure?"

"Only if you'd like to," he smiles sheepishly, "But yeah, I'd appreciate the company."

You smile. "You know what, the company does sounds nice."

Nikolai breathes a sigh of relief. "Ok, great. Make yourself at home, alright?"

"Sure," you smile.

Nikolai finally lets you go, and you both get ready to sleep. You walk to the bed and place your new compass on the side table.

You've shared beds with Nikolai before. They were usually during expeditions where there wasn't much of a choice. Even so, it would never be awkward or uncomfortable. You always took that as a good sign.

Tonight, as always, it didn't take long for the two of you to get comfortable. The effects of the cold night can no longer be felt. Now, it's just you and Nikolai.

As the two of you lay side by side, you say, "You know, Tolya's been watching me like a hawk. If he sees my bunk empty in the morning, he'll freak out."

"He's a big boy. He can handle it," Nikolai replies.

"Are you sure about that?" you ask.

"Well, no. But we can deal with it tomorrow," Nikolai says.

Tomorrow. The idea of tomorrow unsettles you. You're suddenly reminded of all that upset you earlier. Nikolai notices your silence after a while.

"Hey, come here," he says.

He opens his arms to you. It's an invitation you accept instantly. You relax into him as he embraces you once again.

"Everything will be ok. I promise," Nikolai tells you.

"I believe you," you say.

"Good. I need you to know you mean the world to me. No matter what happens. Alright?"

"If you say so."

"I'll say it a million more times if I must."

"Thank you, Nik. But if you say one more corny thing, I just might explode."

Nikolai laughs, "Alright, I'll stop. Let's get some sleep then. To prepare for Tolya."

"Yes, that's a good idea," you say.

You bury yourself further into Nikolai as he holds you tighter.

"Goodnight, my love," Nikolai says.

"Goodnight, my prince," you reply.

➸

#tbr #I'm looking 👀👀👀👀

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historianthesecond · 8 months

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PATRICK GIBSON as STURMHOND SHADOW AND BONE (2021—)

#he's so annoying lmao #i love him so much 😮‍💨🤧#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone

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historianthesecond · 8 months

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Nikolai Lantsov Fashion: Royalty Edition

Nikolai still hovered in the doorway. He wore full military dress, a pale blue sash across his chest. The light from the parlor glinted off his medals and gilded the edges of his golden hair. He was playing the role of the polished prince tonight. But standing there, he just looked like a lonely boy who didn’t want to return to a party by himself.

#JSGDJSHSJS PERFECT TIMING #*sighs deeply*#alright alright I'll finish the fic rn #*opens google docs*

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historianthesecond · 8 months

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Who Came in With the Sea [VII]

With this chapter we officially entered the last arc of this story! :D I hope you like it ^^

Nikolai Lantsov x Mermaid!Fem!Reader------3.7K-----SFW**

> M A S T E R L I S T <

<- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis: When you’re rescued from a slaver ship by a privateer and his crew, you have to get used to life aboard the Volkvolny as you try to uncover how to avenge your capture and those who you left behind--just as your place in this new world where there seems not to be a home for you anymore.

Chapter Summary: Back in Rakva, there are things waiting for you beneath the waves...

Taglist!: @naty-1001 @notdaninotfound @coldheartedmar @multiplefandomwritings @luvly-writer @yentroucnagol @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @ell0ra-br3kk3r @rayrlupin @nightvyre @hauntedenthusiasttragedy @caspianobssesed @toxicenough, @kateswone @drinkfantasy

Nikolai was used to navigating through storms, with the dizzying sway of the sea knocking against the ships' hull, as exaggerated as the first waltz opening in a ballroom, the moan-like sounds of ripped sails and strained knots moved by the wind, mist so thick he could almost grasp it between his numb fingers.

But this one was different, and he wasn't sure about the reason why.

That worried him. This sea was unfamiliar, hostile.

Stories flowed inside his head, pouring inside his mind as mercilessly as the rain tapping his skull. Where mermaids used to create this type of storm to lure in their victims, that in any moment another ghost ship would crash into the Volkvolny. Cold fingers slipped down his spine, cradling his neck to whisper:

“Nikolai.” He heard the voice flowing through the storm; a faint mutter that couldn’t get drowned with the inclement thunderstorms tearing the sky nor with the roaring sea pushing against the Volkvolny’s hull.

A familiar cadence, tinted with distress.

“Nikolai, please help me.” Was it coming from one of those dreams tinted in the bloody mud of the battlefield, the voice strained from the gunpowder saturating the air?

No. It couldn’t be.

His fingers grabbed the wet wood of the helm, knuckles white. The rain hit his face with severity, and even if Nikolai’s eyes were squinted to see between the layer of water falling from the sky, strange sleepiness filling his limbs, he couldn't have fallen asleep in such a state.

“Nikolai, right here!” The voice screamed, followed by the swift sound of something—no, someone—hitting the ship’s hull, wood muffling the impact with each upcoming wave tipping over the deck. The black floorboards are tinted in white sea foam.

He recognized the sound right away; had been hearing it in the past three weeks ago when Nikolai first saw you using the plank to jump into the water. And his heart behaved all the same, plunging with you to the blue abyss, thinking that he had failed to protect another innocent life. That he was too late.

His breath drew mist from his mouth as he called back your name, face turned to where the sound had originated. A grim thought loomed, only incremented by the silence enveloping him.

Were you taken just in front of his eyes? How could he have been so careless?

Nikolai pictured the amorph figure of another squid, lurching its tentacles over the deck to take you on its hold, your claws trying to find purchase on the wood only to slip uselessly.

“Nikolai!” The waves reverberated. His grip on the helm grew loose, letting the sea become the guide.

From the navy sea, a flash of lightning illuminated a figure struggling in the distance, barely breaking to the surface.

It’s really you, his panicked mind conjured, forgetting to take ahold of the helm. His body tipped over the railing, but it was too dark to see something as the wind pushed the Volkvolny near at an excruciatingly slow pace. They have caught you.

His hands flew to his belt, where his thumbs enveloped the hold of his pistol, only to realize that the gunpowder would be soaked at this point. At least he still had his sword.

You wouldn’t become another one from his list of regrets. You couldn’t.

Not many stories are told about a human killing a mermaid, but it occurred. Most of the time, the humans cut their tongues to stop them from singing, which would lead them to end their lives after not having another way to lure their victims.

Looking down toward the water, where white foam became black as the Volkvolny rode each wave, he saw something gazing back. Glowing yellow eyes.

A familiar sensation settled in the pit of his stomach, sucking all the air out of his lungs. The grasp of the rail faltered when he froze, fear raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Nikolai!” The creature wailed, flashing pointy shark-like teeth, crooked and half-aligned into a succession of gums. A mocking smile. Long claws grabbed his collar when his shaky hand tried to grab the handle of his sword. “Help me!”

Your words filled his mind when the aftershock of the freezing water against his chest robbed him of his last breath of air. Must be the mermaid charm. The real one was magic tricking the human mind with voices that weren't there. Ghosts, if he wished to frighten himself even more, into the deep where there were no escapes.

“Sturmhond!” your scream, your real voice piercing a hole into his heart. A whisper of regret because for a moment Nikolai had fooled himself into thinking that you knew his real name.

*~*~*~*

Help me, echoed through your ears, forcing your heart to do a cartwheel. Your feet stumbled over the last step from the ladder, your hand bleeding from grasping the uneven latch lock as you struggled to stand up.

Looking up, between the veil of rain, you saw a lonely figure toppling overboard. The helm was abandoned, moving back and forth at the will of the waves.

“Sturmhond!” your throat burned from the sudden scream ripped out your ribcage.

Half-running, half-bumping into the railing, you made your way toward the stern, where the captain had disappeared. Looking around, you took a fishing hook the size of your hand. The siren’s melody still floated in the air, reminiscent of soaked, red sand and a grey sky on a clear summer day.

You took the raincoat off, already stepping over the railing to jump before fear could cloud all the rage boiling as you remembered your home burning, their pale figures watching in amusement, sated of the traitors’ punishment.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Tolya and Tamar scrambling out of the latch. You couldn't think about explaining to them what happened before you were enveloped by water, bubbles, and foam clouding your vision.

The siren was near, you could sense her. A cold presence, the feeling of being watched in an eerie stillness. The Depth's power ran through her, already craving the human presence the siren was about to give it.

You called your friend the squid, finding it healthy and recovering from all this time you were out of the water. Its giant eye observed you for a moment before swimming away, only leaving a current of bubbles behind for you to trail.

Down, down, down… The water became colder, the darkness thicker. Your heart squeezed. He was in too deep. Even if Sturmhond was a capable diver—and many pirates were only good swimmers—he would need to breathe before breaking into the surface.

You swam toward her, which only makes her dive further, Stumhond's body working as leverage to sink faster.

Your heart was flooding your ears with blood, the pressure of the abyss too much to withstand, each heartbeat feeling forced, slow, yet forced.

From the trail of bubbles, her tail left behind, you extended your arm, hands grabbing the hook as you lurched it down, the pointy end getting caught in a scale before scraping down toward the tail’s end.

Mermaids and sirens bled, the mermaids a liquid red-like-blood, that wasn’t as dense. Sirens bled almost black ink, even if you couldn’t see it now, you felt the threads of liquid sticking to your arm as you pressed your body weight on the wound, feeling each outline of scales being ripped open.

The siren was ready to attack, long claws hovering over you, but stood still. Her grasp on Stumhond grew loose as she waited for her wounds to heal.

You took him by the coat, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as you tried to stop his fall. He felt cold and rigid on your hands, dread sieging your senses so much you didn’t notice when your tail started transforming back into legs.

Until you tried to swim, only to realize you weren’t moving as much. And Sturmhond was suddenly much heavier than a moment ago.

As the siren bled, you were forced to be turned human again for your betrayal to your kind.

You kicked with all your might, feeling your muscles straining from the effort as Sturmhond's clothes slipped from your grasp. You needed the push of your tail, you needed to give him air—

Cursing the Depths in your head for its stupid rules, you tried to communicate with your friend the squid, only to realize that it wasn't following your commands. Staying still in the darkness, sending bioluminescent signals to frighten whatever was in front of it.

A thing that filled a gargantuan space—was that the Volkvolny? Impossible. It was too deep.

With horror, your numb senses caught the same essence of cold and old waters from the creature. The siren’s familiar, a being that once had been a killer whale, now transformed more into a rotten sea beast found in the old tales. White eyes that would only fool you into thinking of blindness, multiple rows of uneven teeth though all just as deadly.

Its skin wasn’t smooth, and the scars were covered in moss and algae that seemed to tangle all over its tattered fins. It looked more like the rough skin of a reptile, white and black replaced by a dull greenish gray.

You tried to shelter Sturmhond’s body with yours, but the animal wasn’t aiming at him, when its body launched upward, toward the surface. Toward the ship.

It was an infernal eternity when your tail finally returned, and the siren completely healed. You sensed around the waters, feeling the presence of her gone.

She went for the biggest prize, the ship full of human lives to offer the Depths if you were oh so dedicated, so selfish at wanting to save only one of them.

Because why save them at all if all of them were only valuable sacrifices, tokens for your creator, the Depths?

Your teeth bit the inside of your jaw when you pushed Sturmhond upward, anger giving you a rush of adrenaline to keep going even if your arms screamed as your tail swam toward the surface.

The squid enveloped a tentacle around the whale’s body, using its rows of suckers filled with teeth to leave a bloody trail across the unnatural shades of grey of its skin. It slowed the impact, though you heard the creaking of wood nevertheless.

You felt your tail starting to become legs again, still too far from the surface, every upcoming wave sinking you into cold water again. Against the bolts of lightning, Sturmhond looked paler.

You decided to pull him upwards one more time, pressing your lips against his, cold and almost blue. This wouldn’t do.

A mermaid’s kiss was both a curse and a gift in the folktales. Allowing humans to swim with them, in those rare tales in which a human and a mermaid fell in love; or a curse as in most cases, the humans would have been already lured to the water by the mermaid, using the kiss to lure him further down, in which the humans would sacrifice themselves to the Depths unknowingly, wishing to follow their heart’s desires.

But to work, he had to be awake. And you had to be in full mermaid form.

You pushed him upwards, his head barely breaking into the water as the current drifted you all toward the feet of a cliff, a rocky coastline which boulders raised against the waves like rebels remains against the almighty of the Depths.

“Wake up!” You screamed against the roaring sea trying to drown your voice. “Please, wake up! Sturmhond!”

The waves made your head dip into the sea, a sudden pain in your left hand the only proof you had to know that your friend had been injured. A natural reaction between animals that usually couldn’t grasp the Depth’s wishes when survival instincts kicked in.

The beast trying to topple over the Volkvolny wailed, the singular song of metal singing across the air arriving to your ears. You weren’t too far away to see the protruding of a metal pole inserted into the animal's skin. A harpoon.

For a moment, you had forgotten that the Volkvolny was a whaler.

Along with her familiar, the siren broke into the surface, her mouth open as a song flowed through the air, the storm suddenly becoming quiet.

You were frozen, torn between going to stop her or staying with Sturmhond. But what would have occurred if you let him here? He would die.

“Sturmhond, please wake up,” you said, voice broken. Not you too, please don’t him. Not another one of the ghosts that would forever haunt your dreams. "I promised... I promised you a kiss. Please wake up."

At least make his death valuable, the Depths, or maybe your mind, whispered.

Part of you, the one jealous of the siren’s power, wished to do so. To please the Depths, enjoying the powers such a magnificent human life given to the Depths would give you. There is no other way.

You saw him twitch his head upward to stop water from entering his nose when Sturmhond regained consciousness. Already feeling your hold of him slipping, you dipped your head to meet his lips once again. A mermaid kiss that would keep him safe even if you couldn’t.

His eyes fluttered open, hands grabbing your shoulders.

“Sturmh—” you tried to say, brain already scrambling for an explanation.

He coughed. “Am I dead?” he said, and you slapped him, your hand hollow to avoid scratching his face. “Ow. Alright, alright. One would never know.” Sturmhond looked pale and cold, but even in such conditions, you could see the tiniest hint of a smile.

“If only I had known this is what takes for you to kiss me, I would have done so much sooner,” he said, and you couldn't glare at him.

“I thought I had lost you,” you breathed, feeling your eyes prickle with tears.

Sturmhond looked at you, gaze soft and filled with something so tender it made your stomach fill with warmth and safety, in a bubble of tranquility in the middle of the tempest.

“You will never lose me, my pearl,” he muttered, his hand reaching to cup your cheek as if he wished to say something more, instead gazing at something over your shoulder. His hands quickly dragged your body underwater when a harpoon was shot in your direction.

You cursed, feeling childish for the way you could get so easily distracted by this man. Even below the waves, you could hear the siren’s song flowing through the air the moment you swam away from Sturmhond, toward the Volvkolny. Your first response was to sink the ship, to use your friend to embrace the wood and make it crack open like an egg.

But inside there were people that cared for you, your friends, even. Within those walls was the possibility of a new beginning.

You broke into the surface near the siren, too close. One of the harpoons grazed your arm, your jerking movement making the aim go toward the siren’s shoulder. Her scream crafted a wave at the other side of the ship, so high it covered the sky.

Yellow eyes looked at you with a blank stare, and yet you could sense the hatred seeped into her magic suspended on the water, barely a command away from tumbling against the ship.

Sturmhond appeared behind the siren, on his hand flashed the edge of metal. He plunged the blade into the siren’s neck, lightning showing ink blood falling from her grayish skin and mixed into the water.

The siren screamed, drowning her alluring song. You felt the blood slipping from your eardrums.

A moment later, a harpoon sang in the air, a cold blow of air passing next to your shoulder, clawing its way toward the siren’s heart.

You held onto your breath, the world stood still, so quiet you heard Tamar’s relieved sigh, the clank of metal when the weapon was thrown against the deck. The giant wave collapses as if made of broken glass.

The siren looked at you with the same mix of shock and horror, the wail of her beast accompanying the remnant of her cry as her body disappeared with the upcoming wave, decaying algae and white foam swept against the hull and then lost forever.

*~*~*~*

The storm disappeared as nightmares did with the first rays of sunshine. A clear blue sky expanded into the horizon, the sun bleeding copper and gold into the sapphire waves, a splash of red peeking through the waves as the squid followed the Volkvolny’s foam trail as it broke the water.

You felt the cold floorboards of the deck being warmed up by the sun under your thighs, sipping warm brandy and tucked into a blanket as if Sturmhond weren’t the one with lips of a light blue shade—not because you were particularly looking at his mouth, anyway.

“I’m alright, love. Keep it,” he said when you offered the blanket. “Unless you’d like to share it with me.”

So you did, giving him the other end to grasp with his free hand. Now, you could feel the slight tremble of his arms and thighs against yours, the shiver and terror not fading still.

For a moment, you feared he would get afraid of the ocean because of what you had dragged him into.

You were alone with Sturmhond on the bow, with Tolya taking the helm while Tamar charmed the crew talking to them of how they had defeated a legendary siren, that their captain was as charming as to lure those creatures out their refuges to seek for him.

The ship had to navigate carefully between the rocks protruding from the sea floor, the cliff welcoming you with its grey walls filled with saltpeter, moss growing over the edge that met with the water.

Sturmhond played with the empty glass, swirling it between his fingers. “I must have known it wasn't you," he said suddenly when you were looking at Tolya maneuvering the ship so it wouldn’t get even more damaged.

You looked at him, but he didn’t meet your eyes. “It’s not your fault. That’s what we do, how we’re made.” If we are powerful enough, you wanted to add. You weren’t, not yet—and that greedy afterthought settled, ugly and unwanted inside your mind.

Maybe it would be better if you were punished by the Depths once your vengeful plan was done, to lose this part of you every time would grow avid for more.

Coyly, you patted his leg, ignoring the feeling of hotness that settled in your being when you felt him jumping under your touch. At least you felt anchored.

“No, you wouldn’t do that,” Sturmhond replied, his tone wounded.

The ghost of a smile appeared on the edges of your lips. “No. I wouldn’t,” you agreed.

He leaned his elbows against his knees, curling himself against the blanket. “Not that I mean to pry, but… does this mean you only have one siren left?” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant.

You nodded, biting your lips. “Yes. Even if part of me wished to ignore it all and remain here. I can’t do that—not after what happened last night.” You had almost got him killed. Twice, now.

As if reading your mind, he chuckled. “At least you’re keeping my life interesting.” Sturmhond shrugged. “I’m used to people trying to kill me, so don’t feel bad about it, lovely.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better, no.”

He gave you a smirk. “Would it help if I tell you I enjoyed your kiss?”

“It wasn’t a kiss,” you lied. “I was trying to give you air.”

“How noble of you," Sturmhond teased you. "I should keep you as my nurse if I get to have more of your stellar treatments.”

You pursed your lips together to stop them from smiling back at him.

“You’re pushing it, I warn you,” you said, then added: "Maybe I shouldn't give you more kisses, that would teach you a lesson.”

“I thought you were just giving me air, angelfish,” he replied, the sunlight reflected on his hair like threads of gold. Then, Sturmhond put his hand on his chest. “And all this pleasant conversation has left me breathless.”

You clicked your tongue. “Good. That would shut you up.”

He nudged your shoulder with him, and for a moment you wished to rest your head on him, to just look at the seascape all day until the reminiscence of black blood and a raging storm disappeared, replaced by this sea, by the warmth laying inside this blanket, inside his arms, too.

“Do you know what else would shut me up—” he started, raising one eyebrow.

“Captain…” Tolya interrupted, eyes dark with worry. "We have to pass through this bay to arrive at the city, but…"

“Well,” Sturmhond said with a fake chuckle, looking at your stiffened figure from the corner of his eyes. “Couldn’t get more foreboding.” He looked at Tolya. “We should arrive at the city before dusk. It shouldn’t be much problem to bump into the rubble.” Not after scratching the hull against solid rock, Sturmhond wished to say, but Tolya could read it right into his eyes, so the Grisha just nodded, returning to his place behind the helm.

Last night was something not as pleasant to remember outside the crafted tale braided out Tamar’s lips.

You saw the familiar beach filled with swept-up rubber; wooden planks calcinated, smoke stains between the rocks, and patches of grass that were starting to regrow. The dock was gone, with the polls flanking the wood boards loosely floating against each leap of the waves. Houses like corpses, empty carcasses where life used to be, dark windows where the sun would not reach, broken furniture; little remains of the lives that were so unfairly taken.

A lump crept up your throat, your chest oppressed by the weight of something dear being lost.

Sturmhond slid his hands on yours, cupping them as his fingerpads, rough from working so long on the sea, rubbed your knuckles in slow, comforting circles.

“I’m not akin to vendettas,” he had told you after telling him your mermaid’ story, with him laying in bed next to you, his heart lulling you between the sound of your hiccups ripping through your chest. “But I want to help you with this. I want to help you find peace.”

Right now, peace seemed so far, at the other side of a sea in which you could only cross walking. An impossible, foolish task.

“I’m here with you, my pearl. I’m right here,” Sturmhond cooed against the shell of your ear, allowing you to twist your torso against his, hands surrounding the small of your back. “You’re not alone.”

Sturmhond kissed the top of your head, and you allowed yourself to call him a sanctuary, even if just for a moment, to nuzzle your head against his shoulder and let your tears embed into his shirt, there where the ocean couldn’t see you.

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