#Dark Urge: Mal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whumpsoda · 3 months

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What would happen if the Sleepy Thrall got sick and needed medical attention?

-- @oliversrarebooks

WOHEO Masterlist So here’s like. My fifth? writing post of the past week… I’m just on the writing grind :3

cw: sickfic, pet whump, multiple whumpers & whumpees, vampire whumpers, captivity hypnotised/brainwashed whumpees

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“Mal…ak?”

Nevan delicately poked his head inside the dimly lit room, the tall, wooden door creaking along.

His vision took a moment to settle into the darkness as he looked toward the thrall’s shared mattress placed beside the vampire’s luxurious bed, fully expecting Malak to be seated atop it.

Strangely, he was not.

“Malak?” Nevan called again softly, turning around the room until his gaze landed on the corner farthest from said mattress.

Huddled up to the wall, curled into a tight ball of his large frame Malak sniveled, nose dribbling with snot and eyes rung sickly red. He rubbed his face with his palms, shielding his vision from bright light sneaking in from the open door. “Oh.”

Nevan carefully stepped inside, shutting the door slowly behind him until it clicked. Arms outstretched in front of him he knelt before the ill thrall. “Malak..? Are you… alright?” He questioned, voice low and gravely, trying purposely to not make enough noise that may elicit or increase a headache.

“Um…” Malak started, peeking the tiniest bit out from his legs. His eyes were wide and shaky, body trembling. “Head… feels weeeird… don’t like.” He mumbled quietly, brows furrowing in muddled confusion. “‘M sorry…”

Nevan placed a hand to his knee, rubbing lightly over his skin with a soft thumb. “It’s fine. Yes… you… you should get back in bed…” he urged, guiding Malak's gaze to the tussled mattress he had wandered out of.

“Nngh…! Noooo… no bed, please…” Malak whined, pushing his frame further into the wall behind him. At least, as much farther as he could, already shoved deep against it.

Nevan sighed. “You… you like it here?”

Malak only nodded weakly in response, his head swaying just the slightest bit from dizziness. Nevan lifted a thermometer between two fingers. “Okay… uh, can… Master Darius told me to take your temperature… again… can, can I?”

For a beat Malak considered allowing him to do so, before giving another slight nod of approval. “Umm… shh… sure…”

“Thank you. Say ah.”

The other man obliged, welcoming the thermometer under his outstretched tongue and accepting it by the grip of his lips. The two waited in silence, Nevan still brushing the other man’s skin as a means of comfort.

“Mm… one oh one.” Nevan read the numbers, disapprovingly.

“I’m sorry… sorryyyy… sorry…” Malak slumped back once again, head lolling onto his buckled shoulders. “Head weird… Nevan.” He whispered, shutting his eyes tight.

Nevan wanted to help him, he really did. He didn’t remember ever having been sick himself, but from the look of how hard it hit Malak, he could almost understand exactly how gross he felt. “No… I’m… I’m sorry.” How could he possibly help? How disgustingly useless.

Malak clawed feebly at his own skin and flesh, wriggling and fidgeting restlessly in his spot and portraying his own agony. “Don’t… don’t, ummm, like it… bad. Bad.” He whined, gratingly, the sound scratching against Nevan’s eardrums.

“Well… you’re, you’re talking a lot. That’s nice.”

“Feels weird… bad…”

Nevan frowned. “Well Master had to, to make you more… awake ‘n stuff so we can help you. That’s good… right?”

Adrastus had been practically forced to ease up on Malak’s enthrallment due to his ill state, him having been doing overall far worse with it as intense as normal. Plus, they required him to be able to communicate his pain in order to aid in his recovery. It was a condition he was, as expected, still adjusting to.

“Good… goood…” Malak mimicked. Nevan grinned, just a little bit from hearing the other man still utilizing one of his common habits even when dreadfully sick.

Before Nevan could open his lips to speak again, the door was nuged open so Adrastus could enter. Their arms were full with further bedding, elegantly lush pillows and blankets gathered for their favorite thrall. “Oh, dear, I’m back.” They bumbled in, heading straight to the thrall’s bed before they took notice of its absence of a body.

The pair followed as their face flipped to further distress in a flash, searching quick for their thrall, before landing on the two. “Nevan!” They exclaimed, recoiling an inch backwards. “You mustn’t be in here, get, get! You might catch it! I know how much you care about your little friend, but we just can’t risk you getting sick as well.”

Adrastus slipped between the thralls as Nevan stood to his feet, heading to leave as the vampire had instructed, but was held back by Malak gripping the bottom of his dress with a deadly grip.

“Goodness, how are you doing, baby? Tell me how you feel. What do you need? I can get you anything.” The vampire fussed, tucking their thrall’s sweat coated curls behind his ears and out of the way of his eyes.

Malak mewled, the edge of his words shaky and cracked as the urge to cry was swelling. “Bad… ickyyy…”

“Yes, love, I know, I know. What’s bad?” They pressed, urgently and needily.

He thought for a moment, processing their wants and questions, scouring for an acceptable answer. “Mmmngh… head… my, mmn, nose…”

“Alright, what can I get you? Umm… medicine? I’ll see if we have any more blankets? Please, baby, I’ll get you anything.” Their tone was growing ever so more distressed by the second, desperate for a solution as they nodded along with his soft but pained mumbles. The edge of their words was tainted with what almost seemed like fear.

Nevan watched their conversation unfold, stomach churning with sick and worry filled unease. He’d never seen Adrastus less than elegantly put together, never without their dignified, strict composure. The sight of them carefully trying to keep up their facade rattled anxiety in his bones.

“Want… want…” Malak gazed gently upward, meeting the other thrall with cloudy eyes that mirrored the still hazy fog of his mind. “Nevaaannnn… Nevaaaannn…!” He continued tugging at the dress flowing from Nevan’s waist, jerking him harder and harder as Nevan struggled against the much stronger man.

“No, no. No Nevan.” Their tone was devoid of anger, rather spewing with urgency. “Nevan. Leave.”

“Nooo! Nevaaann…! Need!”

His head was spinning, being called every which way. He didn’t know what to do, who’s orders to follow. His face was tainted with the scald of flattery, poorly hiding his excitement of someone, especially Malak, expressing a need of him. Him. Though, he knew such defiance was not acceptable.

“No, sweet, Master is right here. Nevan can’t help you, but master can. You could get Nevan sick.” Adrastus corrected with a strained smile, trying their very best to remain calm. “And, you like master more, don’t you? Master’s right here.”

Malak whined again, looking nearly dejected, making Nevan’s heart only hurt further with vigorous compassion. “Sorry… sorry… need, ummm, Nev… annn…”

“No! You are sick! You’re going to get him sick!” Their voice continued rising with stinging heat, shouting at their own thrall while still in a short vicinity. They had dropped any and all lingering peace in their mind, and Nevan jumped back, cowering weakly.

They never yelled at Malak. Never. Both thralls were understandably stuck in place with surprise, salty tears instinctively welling in Malak’s eyes. Nevan wished he could’ve done something, anything, but Adrastus' burning stare was well enough to keep him frozen in place.

“‘M sorry… sorry-”

“Ad, it’s okay, it’s just a fever.” Darius piped up from the back, soft and calm yet unexpected. The three huddled together whipped around to face him, Adrastus’ expression boiling with flushed anger and embarrassment. “He’ll probably get it anyway and they’ll both be fine.”

The other vampire shook their head frantically, a sight that only put Nevan more on edge. “No! N- no, he, he can’t get sick! We can’t let him get sick,

Hester can’t be sick.”

The air flipped the switch to silence, save for their quick and exhausted breaths. Nevan stared dumbly, all he really could do paralyzed by fear. He’d learned full well what happened when a vampire was upset.

Nevan had… never heard such a name before. Of course, not that he could recall, but still. It was sudden, and even Adrastus appeared disturbed that they had let it slip.

“Dear,” Darius interrupted, his voice eerily soothing and kind. He’d never spoken that way. At least not to Nevan, which wasn’t at all surprising. “You need to step away.”

“No, no, I-”

“Ad.” Their lips zipped to a close. “I need you to take a minute.” He looked to his own thrall, who shrunk back with festering fear. “Nevan, take them to the kitchen.”

Malak erupted, moaning in aching agony. “Nooo! Noooo… I need Master! Need… Nevan…”

Adrastus instinctively curled their hands over that of Malak’s, gaze full of unbridled abd desperate saccharine. “But- but what about-”

“Malak will be fine. I’ll stay with him.”

“But, the doctor-”

“Baby, the doctor said the same. He just needs rest and the meds she gave us.”

“Masterrr…!” Malak called again, his words cut apart by thick whimpers and snivels. The sound of his suffering carved deep marks in Nevan’s ears, and even more so Adrastus’.

“But…” they paused, begrudgingly stepping back from their upset thrall. Nevan looked to the other man with sorry eyes as Malak’s face twisted in disappointment as the two headed to leave. “Can I come back…?”

“Of course, Ad. I just need you to calm down, okay?” Darius placed a hand on each shoulder, tenderly guiding them to the door before Malak could continue his outbursts and convince them to stay. “You can take a couple sips from Nevan if you would like.”

“O- okay. Okay. But I’ll be right back to your side, baby. I’ll make sure Nevan is all nice and, and safe and away from any diseases.”

Nevan gave one last small wave to his friend before leaving, Adrastus gripping and squeezing his forearm, biting their lip with unusual nervousness. He tried not to pay too much attention to it. “Thank you, master.”

Though, as the two walked out to the kitchen and he kneeled beside his master, neck craned to show off his throat, even with his brain dazing out from their strong aura, he couldn’t help but dwell on the name they’d previously let slip instead of his.

Just who was Hester?

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Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @mylifeisonthebookshelf

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

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qrowscant-art · 10 months

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me and my shitty fucking butler

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #the dark urge #sceleritus fel #mal-art

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legendofmorons · 6 months

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How to fall in love twice part 6

Pairing: Time x reader x Malon

Rating: T

Summary: Fate must really hate you guys. You and Malon have a brief encounter with the chain while escaping monsters. But it's over before you can really talk.

Warnings: cursing, vague fighting, Time is having a very bad day.

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

-------

Twilight has never before genuinely considered smacking the back of Time's head - until now.

Watching the old man pace over trampled grass for the umpteen time is painful.

Twilight gets it - mostly. He gets losing someone you love to an unknown.

But this is too much - it's been a month or so, and Time has spent every day on edge as he worries for you and Malon.

"Would you be still for five minutes? You're giving us all aneurysms." Legend barks from his spot tending the new fire.

"That’s not physically possible." Wild says without so much as a glance at the others.

"Time. You're going to wear a trench into the dirt at this point. You should take a break." Twilight says with a sigh, "You'll be no good if you tire yourself out."

"But -"

Leaves rustle and running can be heard. Voices sound - familiar voices.

"Farore above." Twilight manages.

All of the boys work to get to where your voice is heard.

-------

"I would really like to stop meeting monsters like this!" You call to Malon.

She laughs, taking down another monster with her bow.

You parry an attack and watch a portal open again. At least you can escape

"(Y/n)!" Someone calls.

That wasn't Malon.

"Malon!" Time's voice rings through the clearing.

The boys are running towards you- but you're pretty sure you have to leave through the portal and not stay outmatched by the monsters.

This is bullshit.

"Link?!"

"We have to go!" You call out, ducking an arrow.

You move then, with extreme spite and displeasure.

"Just stay there!" Time yells out.

Warriors are the ones to stop the others, taking the lead. He says someone to them that males Twilight look fairly upset.

"There's no time!" You yell. "Malon, come on!"

You can watch Malon look between you and her husband. She looks pained- and you can watch her try to fight the urge to stay.

"Mal!" Time calls, almost there.

It's not enough.

Malon tackles you out of harms way and through the portal.

You hit the ground hatd- but most unhurt.

"You okay?" Malon asks you.

You look around yet another strange place and no sign of a portal. Great.

"Mostly. Are you okay?"

"I'm- tired. But I'm okay."

"Good."

Malon stares at you - still hovering over your sprawled form. Her expression is something.

She's got a soft look on her face, but she also looks like she might like to cry.

"Has anyone told you you have pretty eyes?" She asks, moving off of you.

She sits to the side, her knees under her as she looks you over.

You can feel your face heat up. That's- not necessarily a common thing to hear.

"Maybe." You admit.

"It's true."

"Thank you." You say, sitting up and letting your arms hold you up.

"Any idea where we are?"

"The woods, mostly."

"Sounds right. We should follow the path then."

"Okay."

"Do you think the boys will be okay?"

"Of course. We've made it this far- and there are more of them.",

"That's fair enough." She gives a strained smile.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" You ask, trying to land somewhere between serious and not accusing.

Malon looks to you, and you can genuinely see how hard this has been on her.

Her eyes bear dark bags and bloodshot veins.

She's got littered bruises and fresh scars like stars in the sky. She's got dirt smeared across her and her clothes in at least ten places.

Her clothes are patched over too many times to last much longer. Her hair is in bad shape.

And you still think she's beautiful. (You must be really gone. Like- Malon is definitely pretty under usual circumstances, but no one can look that great in this condition.)

(Right?)

"I'm just tired." Malon says after a moment.

"Okay." You say.

You stand up, holding your hand out to her.

Malon takes your hand, standing up with only half a wince. Her ankle is still weaker than either of you would like.

Your phone gives a little notification sound

Your phone!

It's stayed at the same battery charge the whole adventure thanks to magic you suppose.

But it's not done more than self-storage and pictures.

You have a notification.

"I know where we are." You smile, "or at least when."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Let's follow the path. We're in my time."

"Oh! Is that good?"

"Maybe. Depends on where we actually are and such."

-------

You are in America, somewhere in the Pacific Northwest if the pine trees and rain are any clue.

You find a fairly nice extended stay and book about a week or so.

However, there are a few problems.

One, you and Malon both need new clothes.

Two, you have a lot of modern things to explain.

And three - which may actually be the biggest problem - there's only one bed.

However, just now, you're at the nearest Walmart superstore getting together some actual supplies for the time.

Watching Malon read all the ingredients in the shampoo and conditioner is eye-opening.

You've managed to find some decent jeans and some other clothes too.

You grab some basic foods and some other things before checking out.

This is going to be something.

-------

Time skids to a stop in the middle of a monster hoard. The reason you and Malon had to escape.

The portal closes just as he reaches it.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Time ... isn't really aware of his surroundings until that evening while he's cleaning his shield of monster guts.

He listens - realizing that Twilight and Warriors are trying to figure out how to get to you and Malon again.

"It might have been a fluke." Legend pipes in.

"I doubt that." Warriors says firmly.

But none of the conversations matter. Time can only replay the minute or two he saw you and Malon.

The way his wife tackled you through the portal ... he's glad she's never lost her drive.

You had looked - well, it's really not fair how pretty you looked.

And Time is so worried.

He knows Malon can handle herself.

He knows you can handle yourself.

But still.

He'd just watched you have to get tackled through a portal so you could both stay safe.

This is some shit.

Fuck whatever deity is running this sick game.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu time #lu malon #time x malon x reader

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bisclavaret · 4 months

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post-adventure Mal doodle :)

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 durge #dark urge #bg3 tav #he did it yayyy #Mal #my art #half of faeruns most annoying adventuring duo

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rose-sophia-isabella-rogers · 5 months

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A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XII - Holding Out an Olive Branch

Chapter Summary: You wake up and discover Aleksander is gone. You hurry to the Fold, determined to help him, save him or die with him. Will you get there in time? And what do the results mean for you?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky, Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Genya Safin/David Kostyk

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Ivan, Fedyor Kaminsky, Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, Inej Ghafa, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nina Zenik, Nikolai Lantsov, Genya Safin, David Kostyk, Baghra, Tolya Yul-Bataar

Word Count: 4333

A/N: This chapter contains plot and dialogues from episode eight of season two. Also, we're get into the story from the King of Scars. Not much taken in this chapter, but later on I'm going to take some fragments from the book. Enjoy! https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089684638/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089798515/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089786937/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

When you wake up, you don't open your eyes at first. You lay in it, remembering with a smile the events of last night. You reach to the other side of the bed but you don't find Aleksander with your hand. You frown at the feeling of very cold sheets. You move your hand and suddenly feel a piece of paper.

You sit up abruptly. You grab the letter and scan it quickly with your eyes. Your face goes pale and your heart stops.

'Damn it, Aleksander!' you curse and spring out of the bed. You quickly dress yourself. For a moment you can't find your kefta. You finally notice it, but when you unfold it, you see it's not yours. You freeze for a moment. In some places, grey embroidery turns to black. In another situation, you'd be touched by it, appreciate it and maybe even cry a bit. But now you just put it on and gather your things.

You take a peek outside. In the letter Kirigan mentions that Fedyor and Ivan will look after you. You understand it as making sure you won't run. So, you look for them. You see them with their backs to you and a few feet away, talking quietly.

You quietly sneak away past them to the horses. You prepare yours and mount it. You direct him toward the Fold and urge him forward. It neighs, and galops away.

Ivan and Fedyor's head snap toward the sound. They're eyes go wide at the sight of you riding away. They sprint toward their horses.

'General will kill us!' Fedyor says, cursing under his breath, as they mount their horses.

'If he'll me merciful,' Ivan says gloomily and they ride after you.

But you're riding faster than you've ever had. Your heart beats faster, when you see the Fold is closer. Aleksander has spread it again. You bite your lip, fully believing nichevoy'a will protect you from the Volcras, and ride into the Fold.

You don't have to worry about the monsters of the Unsea long, though. Suddenly, everything is covered in blinding light. When you can see again, you're no longer surrounded with darkness. The Fold is gone. While part of you is glad, you're mostly concerned with what that means for the Darkling. You ride faster, praying to the Saints to arrive in time.

In the middle of the Unsea, Aleksander and Alina face each other. Starkov won, but Mal sacrificed himself, so she could destroy the Fold. Kirigan is wounded, but he still wants to join forces with the Sun Summoner. But when she pushes him away, nichevo attacks her, and doesn't listen to the Darkling ordering it to stop. Inej, the female thief from Ketterdam you've met, throws a sword made by Sankta Neyar at it, destroying it. It's the only thing that can do it and it's been acquired it with great difficulty.

'You can't control them, can you?' Alina asks. 'You can't control any of it.'

She's on her knees. Aleksander is already standing. He offers her his hand. She stares at it.

'I thought I could control it all… once,' he says. 'Find peace. And for a moment… I swear I did.'

He closes his eyes with a soft smile. Memories of you flash in his mind. Your smile. Your laugh. Your teas. Your kisses. The nights you've spent together.

Suddenly, he feels terrible pain in his abdomen. He coughs out blood and opens his eyes. He looks down. The sword is lodged in him, held by Alina's hands.

'Without me… know they will come for you,' he says. She stares at him angrily.

'Let them come,' she says and pulls out the sword with the grunt. Kirigan gasps and falls backward. A moment later Starkov shows up in his vision, blocking out the sun.

At that moment, you arrive. Your heart drops at the sight of General on the ground and Alina above him.

'No,' you whisper, dismounting. 'Saints, no, please!'

You run to them. Alina hears you or sees you, because she looks up. She tenses and gets ready to fight, but you ignore her and fall on your knees next to your lover. He groans as you touch him.

'Hey, hey, hey, hey. Shhh,' you say gently, as you scoop him up in your arms.

Saints, no, please, no…

'… [Y/N]… you're here?' Aleksander asks, trying to focus on you. You manage to laugh, tears in your eyes.

'Yeah. Yeah, of course I'm here,' you say. 'Now don't talk.'

There's so much blood…

'It h- it hurts,' he cries out.

'I know, darling,' you say, brushing the hair from his forehead. 'But don't talk. And don't move, either.'

No, no, no…

'H-hey, [Y/N]?' Kirigan asks. His breaths are rattling.

'Yeah?' you ask.

Stay awake…

'I-' he says and coughs. 'I love you.'

His eyes close. You freeze. You finally heard those words. But he… he's gone.

'No…' you sob. You whine, your shoulders shaking, as you press your head to his chest. You clench his kefta tight, begging him to come back to you.

You're not even aware you have an audience. Zoya and Inej are standing not far, looking at you sadly. You're only pulled back to reality after hearing a relieved laugh.

You lift your head up. You see Alina hugging Mal. The tracker is alive. A Heartrender, Nina, is next to them. Did she save him? But no, she's shocked as well. You focus on Alina… and feel it.

You feel anger. She killed Aleksander for using merzost to save Grisha. And now she's used it to save her lover? What a hypocrite…

You feel something burning inside, begging to get out. The moment you realise what it is, you calm down. You look up and meet Zoya's hesitant look calmly. Everything is gonna to be different now.

You don't know how you return out of the Fold. Or what used to be it. You get to an old camp at Kribirsk. You meet the rest of Alina's army there. Including Prince Nikolay. Your eyes meet, but he quickly looks away, finding something unnerving in your look.

You're taken away to a tent. On your way out, you didn't allow anyone to take you from Aleksander's body. Now you hesitate only for a moment.

You sit on a chair, your hands spread and bound. After what feels like hours, Nikolay enters the tent. You don't look at him.

'Baghra claims these bonds won't stop you,' he says after a moment and walks toward you. 'That if you want, you can break them free. You don't need to touch your hands for that.'

'And why would I do that?' you ask, your voice flat. The Prince… or maybe the King, just not crowned yet, sits on a chair opposite to you. You still don't look at him.

'To run away,' he answers. You focus your gaze on him. Once again, something in your eyes disturbs him.

'Where?' you ask.

'Anywhere you want,' he answers, shrugging. You smile bitterly.

'And what would I do?' you ask. 'I used to think I can use my powers to help others. To make this world a better place. How would I do that on the endless run?'

Tears glisten in your eyes. You hastily look away. Nikolay observes you in silence. He knows you were on Kirigan's side. But he can't imagine you approved everything he did. Others told him that as well.

'Are you going to kill me?' you ask.

'Do you want me to?' he asks. 'And that is a serious question. Do you want to die?'

'No,' you answer after a moment. 'I… I've done some things I'm not proud of. I need to atone for them. My death wouldn't do that. I'd be just running away from responsibility for my actions.'

'Did you really love him this much that you didn't hesitate to break your own rules?' Nikolay asks quietly. You look at him.

'I do,' you confirm. He almost shivers under your gaze. He looks down.

'You'll be a prisoner until…' he says but doesn't finish the thought. Until you atone? Until they decide you're not really a villain?

'You weren't with others,' he says instead and looks at you again. 'And you weren't with Kirigan in the Fold from the beginning. If you had been, you'd have stopped Alina from killing him. So, where were you? Why weren't you there?'

'Because he didn't want me to,' you answer after a beat. 'He was protecting me, since I'm not much of a fighter. He didn't want me to get hurt. And he also… didn't want me to bend my morals even more. He already believes… believed… that he had ruined me enough.'

Your look softens. You clench your fists.

'I'm not trying to minimalize what's he done,' you say. 'He committed hideous crimes. But he… he cared. There was goodness in his heart.'

Silence falls. This time you don't try to hide tears in your eyes.

'You know this is my third time in this camp?' you say. 'The first time was when I created my skiff. The second time when… we crossed the Fold that day.'

'Did you know what he's planning?' Nikolay asks.

'I figured it out,' you admit. 'I didn't approve of it, though. And I'm glad the Fold is gone. I didn't believe controlling it would make Grisha safe. Just as now I don't believe it being gone will do it.'

'It won't be easy,' the King says, easily getting back his confidence. 'But the country is united once again. We can do it.'

'The land maybe is reunited, but not its people. It won't be that easy. You lost what could unite them. Because it's easier to unite against a common enemy than under the kind ruler.'

'You think Alina made a mistake killing the Darkling.'

'You know my opinion on that matter. But yes. He could have been someone that could help you stitch this country back together.'

'If you didn't believe in neither controlling the Fold nor destroying him… what did you believe in?'

'Him.'

Silence falls again. Nikolay observes you, thinking how to break certain news to you.

'We have to burn him,' he finally says and you stiffen. 'Will you let us?'

'I know how dangerous it would be to simply bury him,' you say softly and then look at him with a hard gaze. 'But I have one condition. Or rather… request.'

'What is it?' the King asks, actually curious.

'Let me prepare him for it,' you answer and your lip trembles. 'Let me… say goodbye properly.'

Nikolay thinks about it carefully. But finally… he nods.

'I will send someone for you,' he says, standing up. 'But after you're done, your being tied again and in Os Alta you're going to be put in a cell.'

You nod in agreement. The King looks at you for a moment longer, then leaves.

You're not sure how much time pass until it's time of the ceremony. For the burning of the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, which is obviously attended by many people. Because officially, Alina Starkov has died while destroying the Fold. She chose a simple life with her Tracker. You can't really blame her. It's what you would want with Aleksander.

You glare at her. She's here, disguised, of course. But she wanted to see it. See him being burned. And herself. So, since you're present as well, you glare at her, angry that she can get to live the life you want.

You turn your head, not wanting to explode. You glance at your guards and look at his body. In the corner of your eye, you see Nikolay giving the signal. You watch as the Inferni summon the fire to ignite the stake. People around you call Alina's name. No one calls his. Because not many knew it.

'Aleksander,' you whisper. Suddenly, you feel arms around you. Zoya, your friend, who's not sure how to treat you now, puts her head on yours.

'It's over, [Y/N],' she says softly, with a dose of compassion, you think.

'No, you're wrong,' you say quietly, your eyes not leaving the pyre. 'It has just begun.'

Two years and a half have passed since the civil war in Ravka. Nikolay is still trying to stitch his country back together. He has help, of course. But some things only he can do. One of them isn't the new threat to Grisha. To deal with that he needs all the help he can get.

Jurda parem. The drug that modifies Grisha's power by changing their perception of the world in an opposite and unnatural direction. It is extremely addictive to them, and rapidly weakens the body of the user. Many want to use this to their advantage. Fjerda. Shu-Han. It seems only Ravka wants this drug out of the market and to save Grisha. But even though they now have the son of the creator of the drug, they're still not closer to finding an andidotum.

Nikolay sits with his Grisha Triumvirate – Genya, Zoya and David – and they have a brainstorm. The Durast is trying hard, but so far, he's getting nowhere.

'It is frustrating,' Zoya sighs, after yet another dismissed idea. 'Why did Bo Yul-Bayur have to die?'

'I'm sure he didn't just decide to die and leave us all in this mess,' Genya says grimly, but suddenly frowns. 'David? I know that look. You have an idea.'

'Well…' the Durast starts but closes his eyes. 'I'm not sure.'

'Share with us, David,' Nikolay encourages him. 'Surely it's not worse than Zoya's idea to set Fjerda and Shu-Han on fire.'

'I still think it's our best option,' Zoya says, raising her head haughtily. She is ignored.

'I have tried many things with that drug to find an antidote,' David says. 'I am skilled… but there is someone whose mind is far brighter than me… who may think of a solution.'

'There is no one smarter than you,' Genya says, squeezing the hand of her husband.

'There is one person,' Kostyk disagrees, staring Nikolay in the eyes. The King slumps in his chair. He closes his eyes and pinches his nose.

'You can't think…' Genya starts, realising what the Durast means as well. 'She won't agree.'

'She cares about Grisha,' David argues softly. 'And she's not… She helped you escape.'

'She's spent two years and a half locked in a cell,' Safin argues. 'She couldn't use her powers. Don't you think that changed her?'

'Surely,' Kostyk agrees. 'But not enough not to help.'

'Can she really find a way we haven't found?' Nikolay interrupts them.

'We've all been surprised by how powerful she really is,' Zoya speaks up. 'All but one.'

An hour later Nikolay knocks on the door to Baghra's hut. He comes in after the invitation. The old woman is sitting in her armchair. She looks at him.

'Do what do I owe the pleasure of the King himself to visit me?' she asks with sarcasm.

'I need to talk to you about our problem,' Lantsov explains, sitting on a chair.

'Jurda parem,' Baghra says and spits. 'Another abomination. Are the Durast and Alkemi any closer to finding an antidote?'

'No,' Nikolay denies and exhales. 'But David believes someone else may think of something.'

'[Y/N],' Baghra immediately guesses and nods. 'She has a unique brain. One of the reasons he was so drawn to her. Yes, if anyone can find a cure, it's her.'

'Will she do it, though?' the King asks. The old woman is silent for a moment.

'Yes,' she finally answers. 'Her heart hasn't changed. She still would do anything to keep Grisha save.'

'But what will it cost us?' Lantsov asks. Baghra smiles.

'You have to ask her about it,' she answers. 'But don't worry. Without my son, she's not your enemy.'

Another hour later, you hear footsteps coming your way. You know it's not Baghra, who's visiting you quite often, as they don't sound like hers. You look, curious, at the door to your cell and a moment later you see a guard and… Zoya.

'Have you come to kill me?' you ask.

'No,' your former friend simply denies and nods at the guard. He unlocks and opens the door to your cell. The Squaller walks inside and he closes the door behind her, but doesn't lock it. Then, he leaves. Zoya sits on a chair usually occupied by Baghra. She crosses her legs and looks at you.

You're sitting on a chair. You're thin, almost all skin and bone. Your complexion is grey. There are dark circles under your eyes. Your hair is matte. You look like a ghost.

'Then why are you here?' you ask. Nazyalensky sighs… and tells you everything about jurda parem. By the end of her story, you're frowning.

'That is… I've always known Fjerdans are bastards but what they did to those Grisha…' you say and shake your head. 'Still… I don't know why you have come to me.'

'We need to find an antidote,' Zoya explains. 'And you're the brightest person we know.'

'I'm not a Alkemi, though,' you say, frowning. 'And since Bo Yul-Bayur was one… you need another one to create an antidote for his work.'

'We don't have an Alkemi smart enough, apparently,' the Squaller says. 'And since you're a Durast-'

'It's not the same. We have completely different abilities.'

'Maybe. But you're still the smartest person I know. If you can't figure it out, no one can.'

You look away. You think about it in silence.

'Please, [Y/N],' Nazyalensky says quietly. 'David believes in you. So does Baghra. And… I do, too.'

'Trying to use my sentiment, well played,' you say.

'I'm not trying to manipulate you,' Zoya snaps. 'I'm not-'

She stops herself. She goes pale. You close your eyes.

'I still find it funny,' you say quietly. 'He manipulated everyone. I was manipulated by everyone but him.'

'I know he said with his last breath he loved you…' the Squaller says slowly, '… but he still didn't deserve you.'

'Perhaps,' you concede. Silence falls between you two again.

'Fine,' you finally say. 'I can try at least.'

'What do you want in return?' Zoya, who's relieved but also wary, asks. You look at her with a frown.

'I care about Grisha, too, you know,' you say. 'I want them to be safe as much as you all do. But since I can ask for something… there's one thing I want.'

A few months have passed since you've been officially pardoned and released from prison. It felt nice to return to your old room and not to have your hands bound. But other Grisha, obviously, don't trust you and look at you with disdain. You ignore them.

Together with David and other Materialki you try to find an antidote for jurda parem. It's not going well. One day, you even throw a mortar at the wall. David stares at it with wide eyes. You exhale slowly and run a hand through your hair.

'You know, I think it was simpler with the skiff,' you say.

'It is complex,' Kostyk says. 'Give yourself time. We're getting there.'

'And how much of that time I have?' you ask. 'The only reason I'm out of the cell is because you believed I can figure something out. When does Nikolay's patience runs out and I go back there?'

'It won't happen,' the Durast promises. You smile sadly at him. He decides to take your mind of this.

'Did you think what will you do after we find an antidote?' he asks. 'Will you… stay?'

'I am not welcome here,' you say after a beat. 'I… I don't know what I am going to do. They say, "follow your heart", but if your heart is in a million pieces, which piece do you follow?'

You blink away the tears. David looks at you with sorrow.

'You know… I miss him sometimes, too,' he admits and you look at him with interest. 'He… had something about him. A charisma. He drew us all in. We felt safe, needed. I believe that he actually cared and wanted to make Ravka better. Or at least better for Grisha. I don't think he was evil. He… just lived too long.'

'Sometimes I think so, too, ' you agree quietly. 'But then I think we didn't have enough time.'

'Did he… tell you he loved you?' Kostyk asks hesitantly.

'They were his last words,' you answer after a beat. 'For weeks I wondered whether he feels what I feel. And when I finally got a confirmation… I couldn't even be happy about it.'

You look down. The Durast wants to reach to you and squeeze your hand. But while you work, joke and spend time together… you're not as close as you used to be. He still wants to comfort you somehow.

'I'm sure you hear others gossiping,' he says after a moment. 'That he didn't and was just manipulating you. I don't believe it. He truly cared about you. I saw it. When he was dragging you away from workshop, so you could rest, for example. He was also more relaxed around you… more cheerful. And yes, it was friendship at first. But at some point, I noticed that he was looking at you differently than he used to.'

You smile at him, grateful for his words. But he's not done yet.

'When he was leading me to the workshop in the mansion,' he continues, 'he said you're there and you're definitely going to be happy to see me. He… he seemed so happy he can brighten your day. He always was like that with you.'

'If you won't stop, I'm really going to cry,' you chuckle, trying really not to break down. 'Thank you, though.'

David nods. You go for the mortar you've thrown and return to work. Your fellow Durast observes you.

'I think, though, that you deserve more,' he says after a moment. You look at him, curious.

'You deserve to be someone's priority,' he explains. 'And while there's no doubt Kirigan loved you… he cared more about the Fold and power.'

'Thank you, David,' you say. 'I… I think I really needed to hear all that you said. About… him… and me as well.'

Just then Tolya Yul-Bataar shows up at the door. He looks at you grimly.

'Speaking of,' you say and pack your things. 'See you in a week.'

'Until next week,' Kostyk says, nodding. You smile at him and leave with grumpy Tolya. You go outside and mount your horses. You set off immediately.

A few days later you reach your destination. You ride through an open space that used to be the Fold for so many centuries. Finally, you stop and dismount. Tolya stays with the horses and you continue on foot for a moment longer. At last, you stop and stare at the ground.

This is your price for helping with an antidote. Every two months, you're to travel here with someone, not always Tolya. To the place where Aleksander died. It's your way to deal with grief. At first, you wanted to come here every month. But since travelling there and back takes about a week, you agreed for two months. You're relieved Nikolay agreed at all.

'So, here I am again,' you start. 'Missing you the same way I did three years ago. I told you, didn't I? That I would never forget you. Three years it's probably not much for you, since you've lived hundreds of years. But I know you'd want me to move on by now. I don't think that's ever going to happen. You'd probably be frustrated by that.'

You exhale slowly. You can hear Tolya pacing behind you, but still giving you some privacy. You know he wishes to go back already.

'To be honest, I'm a bit frustrated, too,' you admit and your lip trembles. 'You were never supposed to mean this much to me. I was never supposed to fall so hard. But you know what? I did and that's the truth. That's what keeps me holding on, because it hurts like hell to let you go.'

Tears stream down your face. You don't stop them this time. You sniffle.

'It's hard without you,' you whisper. 'I feel lost. I don't know what to do. I wish you took me with you that day. Maybe then everything would be different.'

You fall silent. You think of what else to say, as you remember your last moments together. You saved him from merzost. But he died anyway. Still… at least you had that one last night. You smile at the memory.

'I don't know what will I do in the future,' you finally say. 'But I will find an antidote for jurda parem. And protect the Grisha. Because that's what you'd want. You'd want them to be safe and healthy. Mind you, you'd probably want to rip Fjerdans apart for what they're doing.'

You chuckle. Then, you kneel and press your hand to the sand. You focus on the ground beneath it for a moment, remembering how you held Kirigan in that spot three years ago. Your heart breaks, when you remember how he fought for his breath. But he still tried to hold on, wanting to at least tell you how he really feels.

'Until next time, Aleksander,' you whisper and stand up. You turn and return to Tolya. He fails to mask his relief that it's finally time to go. You almost roll your eyes, but you understand that most feel uneasy here. You don't. Not anymore.

'Done?' Tolya asks.

'Yes,' you confirm, mounting your horse. The Heartrender does the same.

'We can go back,' you say and you look at the place where the Darkling gave his last breath. 'I'm done here for today.'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/134689462

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