#grishaverse nikolai x reader
Note
because I'm in the mood for Pain could i request a nikolai fanfic with a grisha reader. they were childhood friends, but then one day reader was captured by fjerda and after they find the cure for parem they come back to ravka and don't think they're good enough for nikolai because they were too weak to resist the drug. i hope you're having a lovely day!
'only in my dreams ' - nikolai lantsov
masterlist
There’s an old saying, one that’s been tossed around by generations of practitioners of the Small Science and otkazat’sya alike, one that you’ve heard since you were small and keep hearing as you get older. There’s no good place to be a Grisha. It’s been used as a weapon and an assurance at times, a claim that you don’t belong and a reminder that life doesn’t really get better, so you might as well enjoy who you are wherever you are.
Right now, though, it just feels all too real. When you were a child growing up in the middle of nowhere in the Ravkan countryside, no one trusted a Grisha. When you were brought to Os Alta to train in the Little Palace, the glimmering city didn’t feel like a home either, just a place where you would be brought up to fight in someone else’s wars. You could go anywhere you want, but it would never quite be enough. You find your home in people you trust, but no place will ever want a witch.
And, rotting in a Fjerdan cell, you think it’s especially true now. You pity the Grisha who were born in Fjerda, and wonder how they would have managed to grow up in a country whose own army was dedicated to the cause of hunting them down. It wasn’t all that great to grow up empowered in Ravka, either, but at least there was somewhere for you to go once you were discovered, and that was the Little Palace. In Fjerda, the only place that newly discovered Grisha go is the grave.
That, or the cells, and right now you’re wishing that you were six feet under instead of here right now. Other than wanting them dead, the Fjerdan government seems fascinated by just how Grisha work. They’ve managed to get their hands on jurda parem, and you’re a part of their latest batch of test subjects.
You last received the drug a few days ago, and already the debilitating ache of withdrawal is starting to press against your bones, tearing against your sinews and skin until all you can think of is when you last had it and where you could get some more. The Fjerdan scientists are single-minded in their approach to treating Grisha with parem; exact doses are carefully measured out and only delivered in the precise windows of time that they desire. Once medicated, the captive Grisha will have their hands unchained for slim opportunities to practice their gift, most likely to build or destroy or torture other captives as directed by the Fjerdan guards.
Eventually, the parem will wear off, and then you’ll be back to where you are right now: curled into a corner of your freezing cell, desperate for warmth or parem or anything more than this heavy, never-ending horror.
You used to be more than this, you know. You used to be a proper Grisha, one who could never imagine themselves as you are now, exhausted and starving and addicted to a drug no one even knew existed until just a short time ago. You had been brought to Os Alta when you were quite young, so for the most part, the Little Palace was the only life you had ever really known.
And what a life it had been; your mind drained by the constant tests of parem, you slip into a dreamy half-sleep, letting the memories cloud your consciousness so you don’t have to think about whatever horrors await you.
Os Alta had been beautiful. Ravka has been a struggling country for quite some time, and will likely go on eking out its days one by one for quite some time, but the royal family spared no expense on its capital city. Even the Little Palace, the smaller and humbler variant of the Grand Palace, was intricate and masterful, a testament to the artistic prowess of the Ravkan people when its creators went long enough without hunger pangs to focus on their craft.
You can almost imagine you’re there if you close your eyes. The sensations come back to you as if in a dream: the rustle of your kefta as you walk, the smooth edges of the cobblestones where they’d been worn down by hundreds of feet, the sharp voices of your tutors, the thrill in your veins as you used your powers. You can still remember when it had been a joyous thing to use your powers uncorrupted by parem. Now, every tug to the making at the heart of the world feels like a betrayal of your own people, a sick and terrible thing that should not be practiced by any living thing.
You turn your mind away from that harsh reality, opting instead to remember the good days, the golden memories when the worst thing you could imagine was doing badly in one of Botkin’s training sessions. Since you’d been at the Little Palace since you were small, you had plenty of friends across the branches of the Small Science, plus one extra boy whose eyes used to shine like sunlight off of the True Sea. He wasn’t a Grisha though. He was–
He was a prince.
Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t supposed to visit the Little Palace. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to leave the Grand Palace at all except when instructed by the king and queen or one of his tutors. However, the young prince didn’t seem to care for rules, and rare was the day when he wasn’t sneaking off to pass days by his own volition. More often than not, his errant path brought Nikolai to you.
The two of you had been friends for years. Never mind the fact that a friendship between a Grisha and a prince would be strictly forbidden, no one ever caught on and the two of you were quite obliged to keep it that way. Nikolai was brilliant in mind and spirit. When you think about the happiest you’d ever been, the days you wished could stretch on forever, it’s the time you spent with Nikolai that was the best of all. Sometimes, you snuck him an extra kefta and the two of you would explore the Little Palace, or you’d run around the countryside surrounding Os Alta. You’d swap stories and little trinkets or gifts, and you’d smile like everything was alright, because when you were with Nikolai, it was.
Then he got older, and you did too. Nikolai stopped being able to visit you as often. You grew through the ranks of the Grisha, and were sent on missions with increasing frequency. Sometimes, you’d be away from Os Alta for months at a time, and only come back to find out that Nikolai had just left on a similar errand. Your paths started diverging, and even though every time you saw him, it was like the days hadn’t passed at all, both of you had growing up to do, and unfortunately, that didn’t involve each other.
You still held out hope that maybe he would become king and find a way to loop you back into his busy days. Just recently, he had returned from his years at school (and, as the rumor has it, at sea), and you had hoped that maybe you’d be able to spend more time together. All you had was one more mission, then you’d be back in Ravka for many months. Surely you could use that time.
The Fates didn’t seem keen on that happy of an ending for you, however. Your mission went awry. Fjerdans intercepted your group. You distracted the enemy soldiers long enough for the rest of your party to get away, but you were captured and brought back to Fjerda. You had assumed you’d be killed, but instead, you were sent to their experimental division and given your first dose of parem.
So the angels fall. Now, the idea that you could be remotely close to a prince’s best friend is laughable. If you could see him now, you have no doubt that he would still be the same golden, glorious boy he had always been, now imbued with the confidence of years wearing the crown. By contrast, you are huddled in a cell, your powers harshly amplified by the corrupting influence of jurda parem.
No, Nikolai Lantsov certainly wouldn’t want you now. The only way you can have him still is in your dreams, those beautiful fragments of imagination in which both of you are still young and blameless. He hasn’t fled Os Alta for a false name and a life at sea. You haven’t been captured and forced to undergo cruel tests. Both of you are happy and whole, and nothing bad has ever happened to either of you. What a dream indeed.
A dream, but dreams are all you have. The dream of being back with Nikolai is a good one. So, too, is the dream that someone will come to take you out of this place. You’ve had this one many times before, and it slips over you like sleep. It would happen quickly, the break-out. The Fjerdan guards would shout in surprise, then be quickly silenced. You’d hear the rattle of fast footsteps, and the door to your cell would fly open. All doors would be open, and all Grisha would live. You’d run far away, to a place that would finally want you again. All would be well.
You’re comfortable with it, not bothering to open your eyes lest you lose track of the dream. Only– maybe the parem is still lingering in your system, because you swear the faux sounds of fighters are louder than they usually are in the dreams. It’s not real, but the shouts do seem real, don’t they?
It’s not real. After all, parem has a way of messing with your mind. Many times during your captivity, you’ve thought you’d seen someone from home only to realize differently during the cloudiness of withdrawal. This is the same as that.
However, when the door to your cell clangs open, you feel the reverberations through your skin and bones, something that never happens when the Fjerdans come to get you. Your eyelids fly open and you scramble back against the wall, watching with terrified eyes as soldiers hurry to you. One’s in Ravkan fatigues, but the other is a Healer in a red kefta.
“You’re not real,” you grit out, teeth pressed together.
She shakes her head sympathetically. “I am, my friend. We’ve broken you out at last. Here, I have the cure.”
She holds out a syringe pre-loaded with some sort of substance. You snap back when you see it, too familiar with Fjerdan tricks of trying to inject you with different medicines. “Don’t you dare get that near me. I know what you do.”
The Healer jerks her chin towards you. “Hold her,” she says to the soldier.
You scream, a high, drawn-out sound, and do your best to fight, but your captivity has left you frail, and he’s able to subdue you after minor effort. The Healer pushes the needle into your veins, and you wait for something terrible to happen, another grievous experiment to begin in your body, but the strangest thing happens: you feel better.
You stare up at the Healer. Your mind feels clearer than it has in days, and, impossibly, you can feel your strength returning. “What is that?”
“A cure to jurda parem,” the Healer tells you. “Sincerest apologies that it’s taken this long to get to you.”
You’re guided out into the corridor, where you join the former occupants of the surrounding cells. All of you regard your rescuers and each other with the same incredulity and faint excitement. Is this really it? Are you finally out?
The ride back to Ravka should be long, but it feels as if it’s over in the blink of an eye. Several times, the rescue party stops at safe houses along the way, giving all of you opportunities to wash up, get new, warm clothes, and eat and drink to fix the gnaw of hunger that clings to all of you. By the time the gates of Os Alta swing wide to admit you, you’re almost feeling normal again.
Almost.
The torment of your time in the Fjerdan cells will stick with you forever, and the awful memories of what it had been like to be under the influence of jurda parem. However, the Healer’s cure worked well. When you try to use your abilities, they work the same as they had before the awful drug was first administered to you. By all accounts, you’re back to normal, even if your mind doesn’t entirely feel that way.
The driver calls to your group that you’ll be arriving outside the Little Palace shortly. “King Nikolai will be there to greet you,” he announces over his shoulder.
Excited whispers surround this, and you can’t help but listen in intently. “Nikolai Lantsov will be there?” One girl giggles by your side.
Another smiles in encouragement. “They say he’s been observing each coach that brings back rescued Grisha from Fjerda. It’s like he’s looking for someone. Maybe an old friend?”
You feel your stomach chill, the warm delight of rescue starting to cool off again. You have no doubt that you’re the one Nikolai is looking for; he had told you many times that you were his favorite Grisha by far, even when he was briefly engaged to the Sun Summoner for purely political reasons, but you find yourself hoping he doesn’t find you when you get out of your coach.
It’s not that you don’t want to see him, you do– the idea of being with Nikolai again had sustained you through your time in the Fjerdan cells better even than food or drink, but the fact remains that you are no longer as you were in your memories. You are no longer someone that a king would care to see. More so than just your weakened frame, your disorganized mind– you were captured on a mission, and you succumbed to jurda parem. In the back of your mind, a cruel voice whispers, pathetic. Nikolai will be spending his time with the finest diplomats, the noblest princes and princesses. He will not want a Grisha who could not hold out against a drug.
You gather your borrowed cloak about you, pulling the hood down over your face. It’s a size or two too large for you, by virtue of it belonging to someone else, and right now you’re glad for the extra fabric to disguise you. Nikolai is looking for a ghost, and probably out of necessity. He’ll likely be relieved that he won’t have to handle you like a difficult situation.
The coach pulls to a stop. Many rescued Grisha are crammed inside, so you blend into the crowd as you all pour out. Other Grisha from the Fjerdan prison are there already. It’s easy to slip amongst their ranks, keeping your head down. Nikolai is there in front of you as promised. His head is tilted up slightly, his gaze sweeping row after row of visitors. Maybe he isn’t even looking for you at all.
Then, his eyes catch yours briefly. Immediately, you look away, and start backing through the crowds again, trying to lose his gaze. When you feel it’s safe to look again, you breathe out quiet relief when you notice that he’s still scanning the crowd where you had been. Lost him. It’s a victory, but it’s an awful pain nonetheless.
Once everyone has arrived, Nikolai says a few kind words about how he’s glad everyone has returned home and how apologetic he is about the time it took to get you all back. No one seems to hold it against him, though, and how could you? He rescued you in the end, and managed to get you the cure to jurda parem to boot. It’s a fine success if you’ve ever seen one.
Nikolai releases you to the Little Palace to rest. Grisha stream past Nikolai, but he doesn’t stop to talk to any of them, looking again for someone. For you, maybe. You pull the hood down low again. If you move quickly, maybe he’ll miss you. You give him a wide berth, keeping your eyes low. You’ve almost made it to the edge of the courtyard when you feel a hand rest on your arm, carefully pulling you to a stop.
You don’t look up, not at first. You don’t have to look to know who it is. You’ve known Nikolai for years. You would know how he walks, the precise pattern of his boots against the cobblestones. You would know how the breath hitches in his throat when you’re reunited after too long a separation. You would know how his hand feels on you. You’ve dreamed of it a thousand times, but this isn’t a dream anymore, this is real.
“Excuse me, moi tsar,” you whisper. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s you yet. Maybe you can still escape with your dignity intact.
Any hope you had of avoiding recognition vanishes in an instant when Nikolai murmurs, “Y/N,” in such a desperate voice that you feel you could hardly move if you tried.
You stand still. A strong wind could blow you over, maybe. You watch the ground as Nikolai’s boots cross the ground to stand in front of you. His other hand rises to brush your hood back from your face. A gasp is ripped from his lungs as he takes in the sight of you.
“I look that bad, then, do I?” You can’t help but laugh quietly. It’s a bitter sound. You used to sound happier when you laughed with him, you think. A lot has changed.
Nikolai’s hand leaves your hood, drifting to your face. He raises your chin with a soft finger until you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Not to me,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”
A quiet scoff escapes you. “I have been a prisoner of Fjerda for months, moi tsar. I doubt that was conducive to beauty.”
“You’d be surprised,” he tells you. Then, a bit more insistent, “You don’t need to refer to me with a title, Y/N. You didn’t when we were little.”
“I didn’t know better,” you say. It’s not quite true, and he knows it.
“Don’t say that,” Nikolai pleads. “We were friends, excellent friends. Now we’re older and you’re avoiding me. Why?”
You look away again. “Don’t ask me that,” you say with a laugh. You meant it to be a joke, but it comes out as a plea.
“I will,” he insists. “I have always been stubborn, you know that about me. Stubborn enough to search every single Fjerdan prison my spies could find when you went missing. Stubborn enough to stand here and wait in the cold until I could find you. And certainly stubborn enough to wait here with you until you tell me why I’m no longer good enough for you.”
This, at last, is enough to make your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true,” you insist hotly. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re a king and I’m a Grisha. And a Grisha that couldn’t even withstand jurda parem, to be specific. Saints, you win wars and I lost the first one that ever came to me. If there is anyone that has ever been insufficient, it would be me.”
The hand on your arm slips down to your fingers, and Nikolai squeezes once, twice. A heartbeat. A prayer. “You have never been insufficient to me,” he tells you. You make some sound of disagreement and he repeats it, insistent as ever. “No, you listen. You aren’t. Jurda parem is notorious for the pain it causes. You think you lost the war? The fact that you’re still alive in front of me tells me that you won it. Every day since you went missing, I woke up and went to bed terrified that you were dead and I would never know. I need you, sweetheart, and I need you to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”
You stay quiet for a while, letting the words turn over in your mind, then, impulsively, you ask, “Sweetheart?”
He grins, easy as always. “It fits you. Don’t argue with me, I’ve had plenty of arguments prepared to convince you otherwise.”
You laugh, and this time, it’s real. “I wouldn’t dare, then. I just would have thought that you’d have plenty of princesses who would have won that nickname for real by now.”
Unable to stop yourself, you cast a glance towards his left hand. No ring. When you look back up at Nikolai, he’s beaming. “No queen for me, I’m afraid. I was waiting for mine to return from captivity.”
You roll your eyes. “Still haven’t given up on that, have you? I seem to remember you trying and failing to convince me to marry you since we were six.”
Nikolai grins, slipping your arm inside his so he can guide you back to the Little Palace. “I will never give up. Not until you say yes.”
You laugh again, shaking your head in mock disbelief. It’s been a while since you saw him. It’s been a while since he asked. If he were to do it again, you think you might have a different answer than when you were both so small.
Nikolai turns to look at you, his eyes shining. He’s always had a gift for knowing what’s on your mind, and judging by the light in his smile, you think he’s predicted your thoughts yet again. He’s got some time before he attempts another proposal. This time, though, he’ll have a better outcome than before.
grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu
all tags list: @wordsarelife
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov oneshot#grishaverse#grishaverse imagines#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse oneshot#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagines#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone oneshot#nikolai#nikolai imagines#nikolai x reader#nikolai oneshot#grishaverse nikolai#grishaverse nikolai imagines#grishaverse nikolai x reader#grishaverse nikolai oneshot
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stay, stay, stay | Nikolai Lantsov
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Nikolai Lantsov x gn!Reader
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of an argument
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | after an argument Nik and y/n apologise and confess how much they love each other
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | based on this request <3
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 600 ish words I'm sorry its short :(
I pace a few times outside the door before gathering the courage to knock. I freeze. I can't do this
I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night, I remember all the yelling, I cringe as I recall throwing a book across the room.
“Who am I kidding he probably left early this morning, he probably hates me now” I drag my hands across my face.
As I turn to leave I see the door swing open, I whirl back around to see Nikoli staring back at me.
“Nik” I breathe out in relief “you stayed?”
He looks at me questioningly “where was I going to go?”
I shake my head “doesn't matter” I wring my hands nervously “can we talk?”
“Of course” he steps back letting me into his room.
I hear the door shut and Nikolai makes his way until he was standing in front of me “Okay let's talk”
“Nik I’m so sorry, I don't know what happened last night but I feel so guilty” he doesn't say anything so I continue “I'm not good at this whole relationship thing, and anyone I've ever dated took all their problems out on me”
“y/n you know I didn't mean-”
“I know” I cut him off
“Look Nik, I love you, you have given me no choice but to
stay,”
He looks shocked for a second ad I fear I said something wrong “I'm sorry i-” he takes my hand cutting me off “y/n! I've loved you for quite some time!”
“Really?” I start to smile
“Really” were both grinning like idiots now
“I'm sorry about last night y/n”
“You know what will make it better?” I grin slyly
“He laughs at my obvious ploy but goes with it nonetheless “what?”
“A kiss” my arms go up to his neck as he laughs
“I can't argue with that” he leads down meeting my lips with his
It's a sweet kiss full of apology and love, all too soon we have to break away as there's a sharp knock at the door
“Sorry love,” he says to me
I pout jokingly as he greats whoever's at the door
I make my way over to his desk which is covered with papers, I spot a book sitting on the floor and pick it up examining it for damage, it must have been the book I threw across the room, I smile at just minutes ago I was stressing over this very book I place it gently on the desk and make my way over to Nikolai and the interrupter at the door. It's Zoya, she seems to be annoyed at him, something about missing a meeting. She says one more thing before stalking off.
Nikolai runs his hands over his face, and I giggle over his frustration “hey, hey look at me it's okay” I pull his hand down and hold them in mine.
“I know, it's just frustrating, sometimes I wish it was just you and me.” he sighs and pulls me into a hug placing his head atop mine I hum in agreement “I love you y/n it's like you know everything about me” I look at him in curiosity his eyes meet mine and I can tell his words are true “you've memorized all of me. My fears, hopes and dreams” he presses a kiss to my forehead “I just like hanging out with you, all the time”
“I step back and study his face “Nik honestly, all those times that you didn't leave It occurred to me I'd like to hang out with you for my whole life”
“Honest?” he breaths so quietly I almost miss it
“Honest” I conform
A smile breaks out on his face and I can't help but kiss him
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov oneshot#grishaverse#grishaverse imagines#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse oneshot#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagines#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone oneshot#grishaverse nikolai#grishaverse nikolai imagines#grishaverse nikolai x reader#grishaverse nikolai oneshot#sturmhond#sturmhond imagines#sturmhond x reader#sturmhond oneshot
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Six Of Crows/Shadow & Bone Recommendations
Main Master-list
Smut - *
Kaz Brekker Masterlist
The Darkling Masterlist
Matthias Helvar Masterlist
Jesper Fahey Masterlist
Tolya Yul-Bataar Masterlist
Nikolai Lantsov Masterlist
#shadow and bone#six of crows#kaz brekker#the darkling#matthias helvar#nikolai lantsov#kaz x reader#kaz brekker smut#the darkling x reader#the darkling smut#matthias helvar x reader#matthias helvar x y/n#nikolai lantsov x reader#grishaverse#netlfix#jesper fahey x reader#jesper fahey#tolya x reader
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Yours No More
Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader
Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint
Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”
A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon
Sobachka - puppy
Moi tsarevich - my prince
Moi tsar - my king
SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS
When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.
You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.
While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.
You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.
He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.
If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.
He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.
“How do I look?” He asked you.
“Different.” You nodded.
“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.
“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”
He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”
“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”
He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”
You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”
“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.
“Am I what?”
“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.
Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.
“Come in.” Nikolai called.
Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”
Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.
You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.
“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.
You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”
“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.
“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”
“I would.”
Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.
He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.
“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.
“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.
“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.
You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”
“Privateer. It’s an-”
“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.
Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.
“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.
“Yes?”
“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.
“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.
He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.
You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.
“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”
He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.
“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.
He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.
Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.
When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.
You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.
Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.
Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.
“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.
It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.
“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”
He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.
Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.
You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.
Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.
He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.
You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.
You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.
He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.
He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.
Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.
She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.
“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.
You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.
“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”
“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.
His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
He nods and takes a deep breath.
“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”
Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.
When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.
You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.
“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.
He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”
“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.
“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.
You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.
You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.
“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.
He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.
The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.
Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.
“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.
“The king.” Zoya corrects her.
“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.
Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”
“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”
You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.
Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.
You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.
“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.
“Moi tsar-”
He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.
“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.
He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.
You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”
He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”
You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.
“I promise.”
You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.
Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”
You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”
You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”
You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.
After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.
“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”
Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”
Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.
“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”
You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.
Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.
“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.
You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.
“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”
She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.
You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.
“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.
She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”
“He doesn’t-”
“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”
You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?
“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”
You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.
Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.
Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.
Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.
When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.
“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.
“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.
Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.
“Now, you know sacrifice.”
“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”
“Indeed. Look what it did.”
You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.
“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”
You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.
You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.
“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.
After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.
Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.
There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.
You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.
“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.
“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.
“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.
You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.
His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.
“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.
He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”
You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.
“It seems you need it more than I do.”
“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.
His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.
You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”
He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”
“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.
“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”
“But Alina-”
“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”
“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.
He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”
You can’t fathom doing any of that.
“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”
A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”
Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.
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come on back to me - nikolai lantsov
summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.
a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!
title from you’re the one by greta van fleet
wc: 7.3k
warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)
Os Alta
It all happened rather quickly.
One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere.
You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off.
The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray.
Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.
You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table.
You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them.
Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate.
You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t.
You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them.
You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened.
You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring.
“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”
You nodded rapidly. “Are you—”
“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”
“Baghra—?”
“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards.
“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?”
“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors.
“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.”
“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.”
“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.”
You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol.
“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.”
“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you.
“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.”
Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.”
The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion.
“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.”
His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.”
“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—”
“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.”
He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.”
“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.”
Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.”
You nodded. “With my life.”
Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way.
2. The Pelican
You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken.
You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots.
Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at.
Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind.
“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up.
“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.”
“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.”
“So we meet again,” you said placidly.
Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.”
“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?”
“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.”
“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.”
She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder.
“Will you sit still?” you snapped.
“I am,” Nikolai said.
“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.”
“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.”
You scowled, only making his smile grow.
“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.”
“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.”
“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.”
“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.”
“You’re impossible.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”
“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.”
He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”
“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.”
“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly.
“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?”
“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused.
You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.”
“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.
You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything.
“Are you alright?”
“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head.
“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.”
“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.”
You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point.
You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving.
Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.
“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently.
“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”
“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”
“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.”
“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.”
Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”
Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.
“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”
Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims.
“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.”
She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away.
“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka.
It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.
“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.
There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”
“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”
“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked.
“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”
You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”
He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?”
“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”
You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?”
“Answer the question.”
Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”
Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”
“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”
“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”
“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”
“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”
To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”
“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.
“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”
That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.
You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back.
When you did, he was gone.
3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan
You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all.
It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart.
You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle?
A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over.
But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause.
You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone.
“Vlachka for your thoughts?”
You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood.
You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King.
“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said.
He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?”
You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.”
“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”
“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly.
“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”
You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.”
You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?”
He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?”
“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.”
“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”
You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—”
“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”
You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.”
“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.”
“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”
Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”
“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.”
You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.”
You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”
“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.”
You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly.
“Do you miss your parents?” he asked.
“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.”
You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either.
“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.”
Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him.
“You’d do that for me?”
He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?”
That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again.
“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—
“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.”
It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?”
“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.”
It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it.
It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina.
But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly.
So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you.
“I’d love to.”
“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”
You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long.
Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile.
He knew exactly what he did to you.
4. The Bittern
Sergei sold you out.
That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get.
You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite.
His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.
By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save.
“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did.
Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over.
Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds.
Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough.
And then your mind went to Nikolai.
Nikolai.
In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety.
You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway.
“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?”
Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured.
“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?”
“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.”
Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle.
Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds.
Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate.
Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it.
Saints, you wished you had.
“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai.
You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be.
“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.”
Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you.
You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.
He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone.
It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling.
Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—
It was too much. It was just too damn much.
You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened.
Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done.
The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it.
Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once.
“Nikolai,” you whispered.
You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel.
The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger.
Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him.
“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.”
His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.
You held them up. “My hands?”
You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up.
He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were.
This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there.
The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part.
Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.
“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”
The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.
And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place.
All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.
You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much.
5. The Shadow Fold
“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!”
“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall.
It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first.
Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning.
You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai.
He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks.
“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?”
You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened.
His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name.
“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?”
You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back.
“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.”
Darling.
You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.”
“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.”
“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.”
You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?”
Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.”
You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?”
Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.”
“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.”
“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said.
“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.”
“Good.”
You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai.
“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?”
“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.”
“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.”
His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up.
The Darkling’s Skiff
You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead.
A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive.
“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.”
“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.”
“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.”
“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled.
A moment passed before he spoke again.
“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.”
Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on.
“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.”
“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.”
Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered.
“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—”
“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him.
“What?”
“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.”
You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating.
“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.”
It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had.
For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—
Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.”
You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris.
“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai.
“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”
You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest.
“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.”
His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.”
You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place.
But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you.
And for now, that was more than enough.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov x y/n#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov angst#nikolai lantsov the love of my life#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone fic#grishaverse x reader#sadie writes
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In Emerald Hearts, Emerald Minds - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader
[mentions of unwanted advances + suggested groping + suggestive/sexual (consensual) themes]
☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾
SUMMARY: When Vasily asks you to forget his half-brother and marry him instead, you escape the Little Palace along Alina. Nikolai realizes something strange is going on when Kaz mentions seeing a similar emerald ring on the woman that came with the Sun Summoner. With how much you and Nikolai have been running in circles to find each other, the reunion aboard Volkvolny feels almost fated.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.6k
>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<
It feels like the Winter Fete has been going on forever. The champagne keeps on being poured, the guests keep on dancing and the circus acts just keep on performing as though tomorrow is a mere mirage, a concept of a certain time period that never actually comes. Inside those walls of gold and marble, the misery devouring all of Ravka seems like nothing beyond a mad nightmare - something so removed from reality, it’s hilarious in its ridiculousness. Everyone is so carefree and happy you almost take their joy as your own.
Almost.
The orchestra begins playing Waltz of the Flowers and you feel your throat tighten. Despite doing your best not to, your mind relives that fateful night when everything changed. For the longest time, you’d been claiming that the change was for the better but now, standing alone for another year in a row and watching the dashing aristocrats spin to the music, you’re not so sure anymore.
“You really need to stop doing this,” Nikolai says firmly. Although his tone is decisive and clearly unwilling to accept defiance, a pronounced hint of amusement lives between his words - a thread of light-heartedness, one might say.
Your eyebrows gently furrow. “Doing what?”
“Smiling at me like that. Any longer and I might ask you to marry me.”
It feels like you’re about to burst at the seams. Trying to contain your emotions, and failing at it quite horribly, you bite your lower lip. “I might say yes.”
“Where have you gone, Kolya?” you whisper under your breath. The gloss of vacancy covering your eyes blurs the dancing bodies into one mass of faceless strangers. But it also makes you not notice someone approaching you.
“I find it quite admirable.”
Vasily’s voice startles you. To your now-gone relief, you didn’t have the displeasure of running into him all evening - until now. If you were to list all of the things about the older Lantsov son that makes your skin crawl, you’d be done by the time another Winter Fete is organized. The top of the list, however, deserves to be mentioned as it’s an inseparable part of your every interaction with the prince: he’s quite adamant and crude in his desire to be more than just a future brother-in-law to you.
“Excuse me?” you stutter out.
That patronizing look on his face is now accompanied by a cocky half-grin as he realizes he caught you off-guard. “Your devotion to my brother. For all we know, he might be already dead, Saints’ protect him.”
“Don’t even say that!” you hiss at him. Right after, you look around to check whether one of the guests has noticed your unpleasant exchange.
Despite what you’ve just said, you know he’s right. There’s no way you can be sure that your Kolya is either dead or alive. Perhaps this is the detail further ripping your heart apart - you don’t know anything about his fate; you’re mourning, although you’re yet to see the coffin. You haven’t for a few years now and each passing month of silence only made court gossip more cruel and bold.
“All I’m saying, dearest,” Vasily begins quietly as his hand drags along your arm, “is that the moment the news of Nikolai’s death reaches the Grand Palace, you’ll be thrown out. On the other hand, I can make you the Queen of Ravka. And unlike my brother, I won’t disappear off the face of the Earth and forget about his beloved lady.”
The word of endearment is dripping with sarcasm as it leaves his chapped lips. His breath reeks of alcohol and you unknowingly turn your head away. Vasily seems to think you’re about to leave his side, so his hand tightly grips your arm. The hold is almost bruising. He yanks you even closer towards himself.
“Kolya hasn’t forgotten about me,” you say in a shaky voice. Maybe he’s not as foolish as he appears and Vasily is genuinely trying to break you down.
The prince studies your face for a moment, definitely noticing how shaken you are. His eyes have the strangest glint to them - something between desire and contempt. “Is that so?” he barely stifles a grim laugh. “He would have written you a letter if that were true, no?”
Tears sting your eyes. Vasily is certainly smarter, or at least more cruel, than he lets on. He knows exactly what to say to get into your head. It’s a startling difference between him and Nikolai - only one of them does what he can to keep a smile on your face. Well, did.
His dirty, rough hand grabs your chin. Vasily forces you to look at him, his smile wavers upon noticing your desperation. “Consider your options, зайка,” he purrs out. The prince’s other hand trails your face. “The choice is yours.”
A tear falls down your cheek. You feel it rolling across your skin and you silently hope the guests surrounding you are watching this scene. Then, you lean in even closer to Vasily’s face. The whisper leaves your lips like a viper’s venomous hiss: "I will marry you the day you lay his dead body at my feet."
To your surprise, Vasily drops his hands and takes a step back. Despite the self-assured smile on his face, you can see the fury inside his eyes. “As you wish.” He bows curtly, turns on his heel and marches away, undoubtedly looking for another glass of alcohol and a lady naive enough to warm his bed.
The palace suddenly feels stuffy and overcrowded; the music is too loud, the plethora of smells make your head spin.
Outside. You need to get outside.
Bumping into several guests and mumbling half-coherent apologies, you run through the halls of the Little Palace. When the cold, night air hits your flushed cheeks, only then do you stop. Taking in a deep breath, you can actually feel your thoughts becoming clearer.
With each gust of freezing wind, all the anger and sadness is leaving your shaking body. Vasily just wanted to get a rise out of you and, as much as you don’t want to admit it, he succeeded. Unlike he claims, Nikolai surely is alive. Maybe bruised or sick or not sleeping well but as long as there’s no news about him being dead, he is as alive as one can be. The same starry sky hangs above your and his heads. Perhaps, in this small moment of longing, he’s thinking about you too. Wherever he is.
A tired sigh leaves your lips. You’re about to turn around and go back inside when a silhouette moving in the night catches your attention. The shape is swift although careful like a lizard approaching a fly. You see them looking around before running for another few meters only to hide behind a bush or piece of architecture.
Curious and a little scared, you follow the stranger towards one of the carriages. Quietly, you get close enough to grab their wrist. The shape lets out a gasp and turns around to look at you.
“Alina?!” you whisper. What in Saints’ mercy is she doing? You look at her warm, casual clothes and the bag on her back. “Are you running away?”
“I need to leave,” she answers equally quietly. Her voice as well as her stare is filled with certainty - she’s convinced beyond reasonable doubt this is the right thing to do. “Please, don’t try to stop me.”
You let go of her hand. “Stop you?” A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “I’m coming with you.”
“What?” she deadpans. Alina is staring at you with a vacant stare and her mouth slightly agape. Apparently exchanging royal comforts for hay and stolen apples is unthinkable.
“If I have to spend one more day around Vasily, I will murder someone.”
Alina slowly nods her head - she can definitely understand the sentiment. A dimwitted Fjerdan would have more charm than the older prince. But then she squints her eyes, looking at you with a sense of scepticism.
“Out there, there won’t be warm beds and three-course dinners, you know?”
“I know,” you answer with a careless shrug. Loitering and wandering isn’t for ladies of your sort, it’s like throwing a finless fish into a tank with sharks. Despite that, you’re quite convinced the means justify the end, at least in this scenario. “But out there is my Kolya. And I’m done politely waiting for him.”
A shadow of sadness covers her face. If there’s anyone who can understand your plight, it’s her. In fact, she is luckier than you - she saw her lover maybe an hour ago. Pleasant or unpleasant, the meeting confirmed to her that Mal is at least alive. It’s not a privilege you could afford.
“Then let’s go,” she says to you before opening the chest in the back of the carriage. Forgetting all of your etiquette and social standing, you climb into the compartment with her. Towards adventure or death, you’re going somewhere.
“The ring gave you away,” Kaz announces. “It’s too expensive for a bodyguard.”
Jesper knits his eyebrows together, suddenly remembering something. He leans towards Kaz but speaks a little too loudly for the question to be inconspicuous: “Didn’t that girl wear the same-”
When Kaz’s cold glare meets Jesper’s squinted eyes, the dark-skinned man immediately closes his mouth halfway through the question. Both of them sit back as they were but the cat is already out of the bag. Well, not entirely - half of it is peeking out of the metaphorical sack.
Nikolai looks between them with unmissable suspicion. Although he’s heard enough to be aware of the possibility that the Sun Summoner isn’t travelling by herself, this is the first time either of the Crows admits it.
His heart begins to beat slightly quicker: Alina run away from the Little Palace along with another woman and that lady was wearing a royal jewel at the time. As long as Vasily didn’t lose his signet on one of his distasteful escapades, the course of events points to only one person - you. Shoving his restless excitement into the deepest chasms of his heart, Nikolai manages to remain his composure:
“Who was wearing that ring?” The prince-turned-privateer unknowingly fiddles with the heavy jewellery on his finger. Noticing the Crows’ reluctance, he makes them an offer: “If you tell me who you saw wearing an emerald ring, I might, say, give you ten minutes to escape.” Nikolai vaguely gestures to the closed window on his right-hand side.
Kaz knows there’s no point in lying any longer. The man in front of him is not only well-informed but also smarter than he looks, making the Crow wonder whether he also knows the answer to this question but prefers to play some kind of a game. In any event, he’s done his part of the deal and his ex-accomplices are left to their own devices. Additionally, he could really use those ten minutes. “A young woman that accompanied Alina Starkov. High-born, confident, decisive. Not a Grisha as far as I know.”
“Not a Lantsov, obviously,” Jesper chips in.
Brekker’s keen eyes catch the barely noticeable change in Sturmhond’s expression - the corner of his mouth merely stuttered up and down but it is enough to tell Kaz as much as he needs:
“You know her.”
Know her? If Nikolai had a weaker grip on his emotions at the moment, he’d laugh until his stomach and diaphragm hurt and then he’ll burst with laughter once more, unspeakably joyous that he might get to see her sooner than he thought. Yes, he does know her but in the way heart knows blood and lungs know air. She’s the ligament that keeps his bones together, the fibres that construct his muscles, the very blood that runs in his veins. Does the Moon simply know the stars? Do trees know their roots and branches?
But for now, he needs to stay focused.
“Not really,” Sturmhond answers while scrunching his nose. “Many aristocrats wear a ring like that. While I may know of a lot of them, I hardly know anything about them.”
Kaz fights back a mocking half-grin begging to twist his thin lips. “I’d argue that an emerald in Ravka is a rather rare gem.”
“Hers is probably genuine. Mine’s stolen.”
Silence falls between the three men. Nikolai and Kaz are staring each other down, battling in some kind of war of wits and nerves, waiting for the other to give in. Jesper is stealing glances at both of them, feeling the cold tension rise in the air.
Against his deep-seated desire, Kaz doesn’t inquire further about the emeralds or the strange coincidence that the two enigmatic characters wearing them might know each other. He sits back in the chair, his shoulders visibly drop. As much as he’d love to dig deeper, he’d much rather get out of here and reclaim his freedom that is now endangered.
“Well, gentlemen,” Nikolai begins in an upbeat tone, “your ten minutes start now.”
Without saying anything else, he leaves the room. Only then, when the dark, wooden door close behind him, does he let suppressed emotions wash over him. A quiet chuckle brushes past his lips and for a moment even tears sting his eyes. Delight, worry, relief - conflicting sensations merge into one, completely overpowering flame burning inside his chest.
Maybe he doesn’t have the Sun Summoner and he still needs to come up with a plan to catch her but Nikolai hasn’t been this happy for a while now: his солиышко is alright, still making the world brighter and warmer. If he can get to Alina Starkov, he might see her again, although he begins to wonder whether she wishes to see him after all those years of silence and ignorance. But if he can see her, just witness the marvel of her entire being even for one last second, he’ll be cured of the longing and loneliness that has been gnawing at him ever since he left Os Alta.
You’re following the Shu man to what you assume is his captain’s cuddy. The ship creeks and groans under the weight of the crew as well as the power of the waves. The bussing crewmen spare the three of you a glance, only to show disinterest and go back to their duties. It’s a nice change compared to the kerchen ship you travelled on to Novyi Zem, where the captain asked Alina and you to stay under the deck because of the sailors’ superstition. After getting off the ship, it took you a good week to wash out the reek of cured cod from your clothes and hair. Sometimes you still felt like you can smell it in the air, even in the dusty wind sweeping through Novyi Zem.
Your ‘guide’ pushes the door and they swing open with a creak, the list of the ship aiding the motion. Except for the squeaky hinges, probably rusting faster than anyone can manage, Volkvolny is in good shape. In fact, it looks brand new - no mould or woodworms.
“Captain, request for charter,” the stocky stranger announces with a hint of amusement or excitement in his voice. Despite his imposing visage, the Shu man has made a good impression on you but the long sword on his back kept you vigilant against getting too comfortable in his company.
Only when he moves to the side, presenting the three of you to his captain, do you see the face of the infamous Sturmhond.
You want to laugh. In fact, you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from bursting out with laughter. This situation feels like the strangest coincidence that you can think of, which in turn makes you suspect that it’s not a coincidence at all. Because what are the odds?
Nikolai’s face momentarily brightens up when he recognizes you, a new glint lights up his eyes. He looks different than you remember but in all the right ways: his shoulders look broader and his hair is longer, curling in a way that makes him appear more infantile. You remembered him as a handsome man but the Nikolai in front of you is beautiful enough to be considered unreal.
He's staring into you like a deer caught in headlights until Tolya hands him Alina’s unusual means of payment. As Nikolai is turning the piece of jewellery in his fingers, you notice another change: his hands look rougher, definitely scarred from all the adventures you hope you’re yet to hear about.
The blond prince turns his attention back to Alina, Mal and you. “A gold hairpin can get you anywhere. But an emerald ring?” He gestures to you. “It can get you everywhere.”
“It’s not for sale,” you answer, although you know he’s not trying to buy it. After all, he’s the one that gave it to you.
“I don’t want it.” Nikolai shakes his head. Then, a flirty smile appears on his face. “Looks better on you anyway, doll.”
You’re about to respond to his remark when his attention is once again placed on Alina. “Now, Tolya says you’re looking for a charter. Where are we sailing?”
Alina begins the story with ‘the creation of the world’ as your mother used to say: the Little Palace, Darkling, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Fold. Nikolai nods along, never giving away that he’s privy to most of the story. He doesn’t believe in the Sea Whip at first but that’s hardly his fault - not too long ago people wouldn’t believe in the existence of the Sun Summoner and now she’s standing beside you, nervously rubbing her hand. As you have expected from the moment you saw that Nikolai is Sturmhond, he agrees to the insanity of taking up the quest to catch the amplifier.
“Tolya will show you around.” He sends you off. You’re about to follow your friends out of the cuddy when he adds: “You, emerald lady, I’d like to talk to in private.”
Alina gives you a concerned look (‘blink twice if you need help’) but you only smile and nod at her in response. With Mal tugging at her arm, she reluctantly leaves you and Sturmhond alone.
The moment the door closes behind Tolya and your friends, Nikolai runs around his desk towards you, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug. His hand threads through your hair, pushing your head further into the crook of his neck. Even if you tried, there’s no way you can pull away or even move. Taking a deep breath, you smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne but now it’s mixed with the scent of resin, saltwater and seaweed.
Then he pulls away, looking you up and down with burning worry. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”
You swear he could be bleeding out on the floor and still he’d be apologizing for staining your clothes. It’s heartwarming that despite the years and evident change in his appearance, Kolya is still Kolya.
A wide smile enters your face. “Looking for a frisky sailor to take me on a voyage filled with indecency, obviously.”
“Well, here he is.” Nikolai points to himself and winks at you. “And he’d really like to know why you’re in Novyi Zem with the Sun Summoner and whats-his-face and not in the Grand Palace in Os Alta.”
You let out a heavy sigh and shake your head gently. “I grew tired, Kolya.” His eyebrows slant upon hearing the exhaustion in your voice. Despite the sheer happiness he feels when you say his name, the concern gnawing at his heart seems to be more powerful. “Years have gone by without you giving me even the tiniest sign that you’re alive and well. And your brother, Saint’s have mercy on him because I won’t, has been adamant about marrying me ever since you left. I told him I will accept his proposal the day he lays your dead body before me.” You make pause, noticing a strange shadow hanging over Nikolai’s face. But he’s not saying anything for a moment, so you finish what you wanted to say: “I had to get away from it all. There’s only so much uncertainty and intruding fingers a lady can take.”
“By the Saints,” he breathes out, “did Vasily lay a hand on you?”
You feel his grip around you tighten but it’s not painful, rather securing. “If you’re asking whether he hit me or forced himself on me, then no, he did not. He did, however, make it abundantly clear what he wants from me. On multiple occasions.”
Nikolai’s face twists in a scowl. The glint that lit up his eyes when he saw you is now gone, exchanged for something dark and unstable. “I’m so sorry, if I knew-”
“I know, love,” you interrupt him. He doesn’t need to announce the ends he’d go to in order to ensure you’re safe and comfortable. Nikolai has never said or done so but you’re fairly convinced he wouldn’t shy away from fistfighting Vasily if he said something less-than-savoury to you. “But neither of us could have known.”
“I promised you’d be safe in Os Alta.”
“And I promised to stay put.” You can’t keep laughter in any longer. You’re not quite sure whether your chuckle is born out of happiness or disbelief. “Now look at us.”
Suddenly, he knits his eyebrows close. At first, you think he’s confused but then the slight rise of his cheeks suggests something closer to contempt or disgust. "Would you actually marry Vasily if he gave you my dead body?"
You can only give him an indifferent shrug. "Maybe?” you ponder aloud. “If you were dead, I would lose all care about what happens to me or with me. In a way, I’d be dead too."
Nikolai takes one of your hands and kisses its fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his warm lips against your skin. “I could never rest in peace knowing how he’s treating you.”
“Having you haunt me would be incomparably better than you just being gone. Everything is better than silence.”
His shoulders slouch. Nikolai looks away from you for a moment, admiring the floor in his cuddy but even this can’t hide his guilt and shame. “I couldn’t have just popped in for a visit. Not anywhere in Ravka.”
"You couldn't even have written me a letter?"
"Someone at the palace would recognize my handwriting. I couldn't risk it."
"Then you could have dictated the letter to one of your crew."
That self-assured, flirty smirk appears again on his face. "And scandalize my crewmen with the things I want to tell you?”
As much as you’ve dearly missed his insufferable humour, at the moment it’s making your skin crawl. “This is a serious conversation, Nikolai,” you state firmly.
“I am serious, солиышко.” The pet name rolls off his tongue with both weight and lightness as though it belongs exclusively to you and no one else can ever claim it as their own. He kisses your hand again but keeps it against his lips for a while longer. Then, he places your fingers on his chest and you can feel the soft thrumming of his heart. “Do you think I never thought about writing to you? That I didn’t stay up at night thinking about what I will tell you when we meet again? Countless letters I have begun only to tear them apart and throw them into the sea or burn them. If some people found out we know each other, you’d be in much greater danger than Darkling following your steps. I’d rather deal with the heartbreak of staying away from you than know I put you in danger because I can’t live without you.”
It brings you a grim sense of comfort that he’s been equally torn as you were over the lack of contact. You never thought about it before but Nikolai must have been worried sick, not knowing whether you’re alright and happy. Has he imagined your plight and misery as often as you did his?
“What did you write in those letters?” you ask in a shaky voice.
“I wrote about how much I miss you, how it physically hurts to consider that you might think I have abandoned you. When I was hungry, cold, tired or sick, only the memories of you made me push on. On nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d stare at the sky above me and wonder whether you’re looking at the same stars. I wrote that wherever I go, I see your face. You are in every sunrise and sunset, every flower I see and every fire that warms me.” Nikolai lets go of your fingers, placing both of his hands on either side of your face. The softness in his eyes makes you swoon. “I only wrote the truth,” he says slowly, making sure you understand the weight of his words.
Swallowing back tears, you lean into his warm touch. “My beloved, my heart yearns for you?” you jest in a dramatic voice.
A playful smile creeps back unto his lips. “If only my heart.”
“Gross.”
“You wanted a frisky sailor.”
"You’re a pirate, not a sailor.”
"I’m a privateer,” he drones out the word as though it makes a world of a difference.
"Pirate sounds sexier."
Nikolai gives you a fake frown. “Oh, I definitely am a pirate."
Without thinking twice, he’s kissing you. The sensation is just as comforting as you remember. His soft lips are doting on you, growing needier with each peck as though this is some feverish attempt at making up the lost time.
He pulls away to catch his breath and although you’re panting yourself, you unknowingly chase after him, unwilling to dismiss this carnal desire just yet. Nikolai seems to notice your eagerness - he flashes you a cocky grin and shortly pecks your lips again.
“You crossed Ravka, the Fold and the sea just to find me?” he whispers. His eyes are stuck to your wet, swollen mouth.
“And I’d do it a hundred more times if I had to.”
You exchange a few more hungry kisses, pecking and nipping at each other’s lips, before Nikolai continues the conversation:
“I want to say that I’m flattered but I’d rather not encourage you to do something this stupid and dangerous ever again.”
“Hate to break it to you but you took all the stupid with you.”
He rests his forehead against yours; hot, laboured breaths brush against your flushed cheeks. “I’d like to clarify that I’m not stupid, I just can’t seem to think about anything other than you.”
Nikolai wraps his arms around your waist. In a swift motion, he turns you around and pushes you against the edge of his desk. His strength surprises you when Nikolai effortlessly lifts you and places you atop the table, pushing off maps and navigation essentials. Firm, warm hands are restlessly wandering across your body, unsure where to lay or what to grab.
You gasp quietly when his fingers sneak underneath your shirt. “Is this the indecent part of the voyage, my frisky sailor?”
“By the Saints, I hope so,” he whispers against your lips. Then, he furrows his eyebrows questioningly. “Is that offensive to say around a living Saint?”
“I don’t think Alina heard you.”
His nimble fingers are quickly undoing the buttons on your clothes. “Well, she will hear you in a moment.”
“Gross,” you say with laughter in your voice but the word gets muffled as Nikolai gets back to kissing you again.
Even if the crew did hear you that day, no one dared say a word.
зайка [zay-ka] - bunny (feminine; term of endearment)
солиышко [sol-nee-shko] - little sun (unisex; term of endearment)
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai imagines#nikolai x reader#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x you#sturmhond#grishaverse
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Gonna include this in the Cunk on Ketterdam series. (Although i know this won't be Cunk on Ketterdam exactly)
#grishaverse#six of crows#shadow and bone#kaz brekker#kaz x reader#kazzle dazzle#nikolai x reader#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai lanstov#nikolai#soc#darkling#ben barnes#six of crows x reader#shadow and bone x reader#sab#sab s2#i dont know where to tag this#cunk on earth#philomena cunk#cunk on britain#cunk on everything#cunk on Ketterdam
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hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart……
Enchanted
Request: hi hi hi!!! i saw that you were open to shadow and bone requests and i was wondering if you’d be willing to write a nikolai lantsov imagine? just imagine princess!reader being forced into an arranged marriage with the second son of the king of ravka, and instead of going through with it she runs away. she then stumbles upon a particularly charming privateer who just so manages to win over her heart…
and: btw I saw your post about sab season 2 and i would like to request something with nikolai. i dont really have any ideas but i love that blonde boy so anything that you'll write with him is going to make me happy- but if its angst please im begging for a happy ending im already depressed because im reading rules of wolves
and: omg omg omg enchanted x nikolai sounds so perfect 😭 literally written for him
Hi! I absolutely adore these requests, thank you for sending them in. And sorry for the long wait, I’ve been a bit busy. And please bear with me while I try and get the hang of writing for Nikolai, this is only my second time. Also, this request was combined with two others, I hope that’s alright, and sorry for anyone who’s request was altered a little bit to fit this story. I’m happy to accept another request if you don’t like this one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
(Warnings: arranged marriage, swearing, very very brief angst, very vague suggestive content, drinking, let me know if i missed anything)
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You had nearly begged on your knees when you found out you were to be wed, pleading with your parents’ advisors.
You were no fool. You knew that one day you’d have to marry, and you were prepared to do your duty. A Princess isn’t awarded the luxury of a choice, and you knew any match that was made probably wouldn’t be from a place of love. But you never thought your parents would be prepared to ship you off to a man none of you had ever even laid eyes on, and that’s including the advisors.
A second son, and a rumored bastard at that. It was all happening too fast, and you weren’t having an easy time processing it.
“You can’t send me! We already have an alliance with Ravka, why send me still?”
One of the men had stood, trying to ease you. “You must go, Princess. We may have an alliance, but our forces need to be strengthened. Prince Vasily is already spoken for. Marrying you to Prince Nikolai is the fastest way.”
“I am told he is charming, if it is any consolation,” another man said, though his voice was firmer. “It is time, Princess, for you to do your duty. You will marry.”
You finally relented, your fate beginning to set in. “That’s it, then. When will I be expected to leave?”
There was a moment of silence, and an awkward shuffling of feet as the advisors stood. And then one of the men spoke, sending dread running through you like ice in your veins.
“Your arrival is set for the end of the week. The King and Queen are expecting you.”
—
The journey passed far quicker than you had anticipated. A trip like that should have been grueling, yet each moment felt more fleeting than the last. By the time you arrived on Ravkan soil, you would practically be theirs. Upon your arrival, you were escorted to the Great Hall to meet the King and Queen.
“Moi tsar,” you curtsied, keeping your eyes low. “Moi tsaritsa. It is an honor.”
The words tasted sour on your tongue, but you spoke them anyway. The King and Queen were not known to be the kindest of people, and you’d rather spend your time in a foreign country on the good side of the sovereign.
“Princess,” the King greeted as he stood, his eyes racking your body. “You are as beautiful as they say. My son will be pleased. Unfortunately, your arrival has preceded his. He attended a meeting with our generals, and is set to arrive in a few days. The wedding will be in a fortnight. Until then, please enjoy our hospitality. I look forward to this new found alliance between our great countries.”
“As do I,” you said, forcing a smile.
—
As the days passed, you grew more uneasy. The weight of your duties were beginning to drag you down, and you didn’t know if you could bear the burden any longer.
Nikolai had yet to return to court, but with his inevitable arrival looming, it became harder to face each day. You were practically alone in the castle, having yet to make any friends. And you doubted the arrival of a Prince—the subject of scandalous rumors—would do anything to lessen the loneliness and fear you felt every night.
One evening, the pressure became too great.
Despite your duties, and the anger you knew both countries would feel towards you, you fled. It was a rash decision, and a stupid one at that. But it was the only option that could give you your freedom, so you took it.
It led you all the way down to the harbor, which you briskly made your way to with little more than the clothes on your back.
Your window of opportunity was closing, and you took it. In mere hours, someone would notice you were missing from your room. Guards would be sent all throughout the palace, and they’d track you down if you weren’t quick enough. One way or another, you would marry the second Prince of Ravka. You’d be forced to. And although the thought of being alone in an open country you knew next to nothing about terrified you, it was less terrifying than the thought of being trapped in that castle forever.
So you went. Fled, more accurately. All the way to the harbor, in nothing but a dress and cloak, with a bag of coins hidden in your skirts.
As you approached the harbor, the shout of guards could be heard in the distance. “Spread out! She cannot have gone far.”
The Kingsguard.
You felt your chest tighten as you quickened your pace, pulling your hood over your head. You rushed as inconspicuously as you could, clambering to get as far from the palace as possible. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your wrist.
“What’s the rush for, My Lady? You’re going to hurt yourself running in those shoes,” the woman said, her brows furrowing.
You stopped in your tracks to take her in, realizing she was standing next to a much larger man. She had axes sheathed at her waist, and a confused but intrigued grin.
“Please, excuse me—” You stuttered out, trying to pull away.
“There’s no need to be afraid,” the man said, in a tone much gentler than his appearance. “We mean you no harm. What are you running from?”
“I need to get away from here, and fast,” you pleaded, deciding to trust these people who stopped you.
“That wasn’t an answer to our question,” the woman said, easing her grip.
You let out a frustrated sigh, turning to look over your shoulder before turning back. “Please, I’ll pay you whatever you want. Just let me go. I have to get out of here, and quickly.”
The woman shared a glance with the man, and for a minute, you were beginning to think you had been found out. They somehow recognized you, and would know that the castle guards were looking for you. If that was true, the pair didn’t show it, looking back at you.
“We have a ship,” the man finally said, gesturing behind him. “And a captain. A name you’d perhaps recognize. Sturmhond.”
Sturmhond, you thought to yourself. The richest pirate on the True Sea? What was he doing in a port in Ravka? You shook your head, having no time for questions.
“Would he grant me safe passage? I can pay, I have the means. Please, I need to know if this is my only option of getting out of here. I haven’t done anything illegal, I promise. I just need to go.”
The woman laughed, her relaxed disposition beginning to ease you. “Illegal would have been more fun. Don’t worry, Princess. We’ll take you to our captain. You’ll be safe with us.”
Your eyes widened, and you stepped back to retreat, when the man raised his hands in surrender.
“We mean you no harm, Princess. Clearly, you’re in trouble, and we have the means to get you away from the palace.”
“Trust me,” the woman said, offering you her hand. “We have no wish to return to the palace.. I’m sure our captain isn’t too keen, either.”
You looked between the ship and back at the castle uneasily, when you heard another shout coming from the guards marching through the village. You turned towards the man and woman, who you just realized looked very similar. Siblings, perhaps, who had just gotten back from a journey at sea.
“Sturmhond is quite the character, but he’s a good man. You have my word,” the man said.
“Alright,” you said, making your decision as you took the woman’s hand. “I’ll go. Thank you, uh…”
You trailed off, making the man smile. He led you towards a nearby ship, helping you climb your way onto it.
“I’m Tolya, and that’s my sister Tamar. We’re part of Sturmhond’s crew. Come along, he’ll want to meet you.”
They quickly led you aboard a ship, ushering the crew to cast off. The crew looked around with confused faces, but listened anyway. As the ship slowly left the harbor, you were led downstairs to the cabins below.
“Captain,” Tamar called, knocking on the first doorway below deck, before opening the door herself.
“Do you want to tell me why my ship is moving away from the dock?” Sturmhond asked without turning around, shuffling through his cabin as he pulled on his coat.
You cleared your throat. “That would be because of me, I think.”
Sturmhond turned around at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening as he took you in. “I don’t believe it. Good evening, Princess. I do hope you are well. Tamar and Tolya have treated you kindly, I expect?”
You shrunk under his gaze, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Is my title that easy to spot? You’re the second to figure it out, is it something I’m doing?”
“Tamar has a keen eye,” Sturmond shrugged, grinning. “But you’re also wearing an evening gown fit for court, and the jewels around your neck could buy a small country. Those things aren’t exactly subtle, darling. Even with that cloak.”
You nodded, still nervous but relaxing with his calm demeanor. “I was told you could grant me passage away from the palace? I can pay, I don’t expect you to do this out of the kindness of your heart. But seeing as we’ve already left the harbor, I don’t think you have any other option but to take me with you. Unless you intend on throwing me overboard into the bay, although I’ll thank you kindly not to do that.”
“In that dress? You’d sink to the bottom, darling. There’s no need to worry, Princess. You’ll stay dry on deck, that I can assure you,” he chuckled, motioning for you to sit.
“We’ll inform the crew our trip has been extended,” Tamar announced, pulling Tolya behind her to leave the cabin.
You sat in the chair on the other side of Sturmhond’s desk, and he sat across from you. He offered you a kind smile, one that surprised you. You had heard plenty about the infamous privateer. You hadn’t expected him to be this young and handsome. His reputation matched that of an old tycoon, not of what appeared to be an ex soldier. He looked at you with curiosity, motioning for you to speak.
“So, would you like to explain to me why my ship is sailing back out to sea? Not that I’m upset or anything, I was dreading my return to Ravka myself. But as I understand it, you were asked to come to Ravka to strengthen a political alliance—”
“And how would you know about that?” You interrupted, raising a brow.
He smiled, shrugging. “I have my ways. It pays to know lots of things about lots of things. Including which Princesses are being married off to far away royalty.”
“Do you know him?” You asked, your voice a little unstable. “The Prince, I mean. Nikolai. I could hardly find anyone who knew him, and any knowledge of him was limited. I went into this alliance blind, thanks to my parents and advisors.”
Sturmhond’s grin widened as he nodded. “I do know him, yes. We were briefly acquainted some time ago.”
“And?”
“He’s alright,” Sturmhond laughed, leaning back in his seat. “Dashingly handsome. A bit cocky for my taste, perhaps a little spoiled, but what royalty isn’t, right? No offense.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “None taken.”
“I suppose you’re lucky in that you’re set to marry him, and not the Crown Prince. Vasily is—how should I put this—well…”
“A bastard?” You finished, making Sturmhond chuckle, nodding.
“He is, yes. Nikolai is, in another manner of speaking, the same as well. Is that why you’re running? You don’t want to risk your reputation on a second son who may not even be the second son?”
Sturmhond looked at you through curious eyes, although there was a little apprehension in them. A little vulnerability that you didn’t quite know what to make of. You shook your head, inadvertently easing his thoughts.
“It’s just rumors, Sturmhond. Whether there is any truth to them, I don’t know, and I don’t care. History records names, not blood. A true Lantsov or not, it doesn’t matter to me. It’s not Nikolai’s fault who his true parents are, and he shouldn’t have to bear the consequences of their actions. All that matters to my parents is what he means for my country. His reputation doesn’t affect that.”
“And what matters to you?” Sturmhond asked, his eyes softening. “Your secrets are safe with me, and I promise to not throw you overboard for whatever your answers are. Why are you running, Princess?”
You sat in silence for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. Sturmhond politely waisted for you to start, nodding encouragingly for you to speak.
You fiddled with your hands in your lap nervously. “Nikolai’s blood doesn’t matter to me, truly. All that really matters is that he has a kind heart, and he makes living at Ravkan court for the rest of my life more bearable.”
Sturmhond nodded as he listened intently. You continued.
“From what I hear, he’s a perfectly good man. Compared to my list of options, he was probably the best I could have hoped for.”
“Was? Or is? Do you intend on running forever? Seems like a waste of time in what is already a fleeting existence, Princess,” he said quietly.
“I know,” you nodded, growing frustrated. “I don’t know why I did it. I just thought about being alone at court for the rest of my life, and even the promise of a semi decent Prince wasn’t enough to ease my fears. I just wanted control over my own life for once, you know? My own freedom. It was a rash decision, I admit. But it seems to be working well in my favor so far.”
Sturmhond nodded, standing up from his desk to pour two glasses of whiskey. You downed yours the second he placed it in front of you, deciding it was better to let the second one sit when he refilled your glass.
“And Nikolai? What are his thoughts on the matter?”
You shrugged, fiddling with the glass. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been at court since I arrived. I have yet to meet him. Although, once he hears of me running, I’m sure any first impressions he could have had of me are ruined.”
“I don’t know about that.”
You raised a brow, coaxing him to continue. “Really? Why is that?”
“From what I hear, Nikolai isn’t really one for court, either,” he started, shrugging. “He runs when he gets the chance, too. Why do you think he’s away from court so often?”
You pondered the thought for a minute. “I don’t know. I always assumed his duties took him elsewhere. He’s not the Crown Prince, so he doesn’t need to remain in the palace. He serves in the First Army, doesn’t he?”
Sturmhond nodded, grinning. “He does. Or, to put it more accurately, he did. I think he just loiters around neighboring countries until his Mother forces him to come home and make an appearance now.”
You chuckled, letting out a deep sigh. “Isn’t that a treat? Coming home for the first time in months, only to find out your bride to be has run away.”
“With a face like that, I doubt he’ll care much about anything once he sees you.”
You felt the heat creep to your cheeks at his words, setting your eyes to your lap to avoid Sturmhond’s heavy gaze. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he breathed out a laugh.
“Besides, I’m told the Prince isn’t expected back at court for a few more days. Plenty of time for you to decide whether or not you want me to turn this ship around. Who would I be to deny a Princess?”
You smiled, your voice soft. “And if I don’t want to turn around?”
“Well, you’re paying me. I don’t really care either way, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he said, grinning as he topped your glass off. “But just between you and me, I’d do it for free. Anything for a pretty face like that. Just don’t go telling everyone I said that, I have a reputation to maintain.”
You laughed, nodding. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”
—
You spent the next few days on the ship, feeling more and more at ease the further you made it from Ravkan shores.
At night, you longed for home.
Not for you parents, or any of their advisors. But for your own bed—not on a constantly rocking ship—and the familiar trill of the birds outside your window on dewy mornings. For the library in the East Wing people seemed to forget was even there, and the soup the cooks would make when a chill was in the air. For the gardens midmorning where you could escape to when you wanted to avoid all the guards constantly watching you.
Sturmhond did a good job at keeping you distracted from saddening thoughts, though. It was sweet of him, really. Making sure you had someone with you during the day, taking all his meals with you in the evening.
Your time on the ship was the most relaxed you had been in a long time, actually, which you attributed to him.
Sturmhond had quite the representation amongst high society—or any society, really—and he certainly met your expectations. He was charming, and attractive. Clever and ambitious, like everyone said he was.
You hadn’t expected him to be as attentive as he is, however. He seemed to really enjoy a new guest on the ship, one that could keep up with his banter. He didn’t make you feel like a burden like your parents so often did, actually including you in his daily routine.
Tolya and Tamar were great, too. Kind, and funny. Fiercely loyal and protective, both of their captain and of each other. They were the kind of friends you hoped to make during your time in Ravka.
So far, it was off to a good start.
As the days moved on, you found yourself growing closer to Sturmhond. You tried to stop yourself in the beginning. Despite not wanting it for yourself, you were engaged to Nikolai. Falling for another man wasn’t exactly a good thing for your future
But that damned smile.
His ridiculously attractive smile, and his stupid mop of hair that had only gotten longer from his time at sea. The infuriating way he’d look at you and make you want to shrink away from his gaze, but you could never bring yourself to look away. The obnoxious green emerald ring he wore that could probably buy a small village.
He had charmed you, despite your reservations, and you were practically head over heels. It scared the absolute shit out of you.
Tamar had of course noticed already, confronting you about it one night after dinner. She joined you on deck, sitting next to you on a crate as you watched the stars twinkle in the sky. They were so visible out at sea, away from all the lights and clutter of the cities.
“You’re not hiding anything from me, you know,” she smirked, sneaking your flask away to take a few sips from it.
You feigned innocence, shaking your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tamar.”
“Come on, darling. Let’s skip the bluffing…you like him. It’s so obvious.”
“Saints, I hope not,” you groaned, scrunching your nose up at the thought of Sturmhond finding out.
Tamar grinned at your embarrassment, chuckling. “Don’t worry. I may not swing that way, but I know the look when I see it. He’s all puppy dog eyes and desperate looks of longing when he sees you. It’s gross, really. I can actually hear his heart skip a beat when he sees you. He likes you, too. I’d stake money on it.”
You swallowed down your excitement, trying to think rationally. “Don’t even joke about that, it’s not funny.”
“I’m serious! You’re a catch, Princess. He may be my captain, but he’d be a fool not to want you.”
“That’s sweet of you to say, but we can stop there,” you nervously chuckled. “We don’t need this going to my head. I’ll do something stupid like staying on this boat forever.”
She grinned, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Would that be so bad?”
—
The next few days, you couldn’t get Tamar’s words out of your head. You went on with your routine with Sturmhond as usual, trying not to put much thought into it.
Your feelings for him were true, that’s for sure.
And when you’d catch him looking at you from across the deck, you’d swear by the look in his eye that he felt something for you, too. What it was, exactly, you didn’t know.
But it was something.
On your last evening before you had to make a decision about where you wanted to go, you skipped dinner. You couldn’t bring yourself to go along with your usual banter with Sturmhond, beginning to feel guilty about just how close and comfortable you’d gotten with him.
You still had a duty to your country and your family, which meant at least a little to you. Plus, it wasn’t fair to make a promise to Prince Nikolai, only to leave him hanging when he returned to Ravka.
You were leaning against the deck railing, watching the way the moonlight bounced over the still waters. So lost in thought, you almost didn’t register Sturmhond’s approaching footsteps.
“A bit chilly for stargazing, isn’t it?” He asked, coming to stand next to you.
You turned to see him, smiling when you noticed he was wearing his signature blue coat. You couldn’t remember a time since you met that he wasn’t dressed to the nines, no matter what time of day it was.
“You know, for a pirate, you don’t really look like one.”
He grinned, gently correcting you. “A privateer, darling, not a pirate. There’s a difference, I assure you.”
“Ah, a privateer. How could I have forgotten?” You chuckled, hugging yourself in an effort to shield your arms from the biting cold. “But seriously. The emerald on your finger is the size of a walnut, and that coat is fit for royalty. I find it hard to believe a privateer does well enough to afford things as nice as those.”
“Maybe I’m just good at my job,” he retorted, that signature smirk on his face.
It was enough to stir butterflies in your stomach, making you turn to look back out at the water. His gaze lingered on you a moment, and you could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks under the weight of his stare.
“You’re cold,” he observed, breaking the silence.
“I’m fine,” you tried to say, but Sturmhond interrupted you.
“I can practically hear your teeth chattering,” he laughed, shrugging his coat from his shoulders. “Here. Seeing as my coat is fit for royalty, as you say, I think it’ll suit you better.”
“Sturmhond—”
“Princess,” he mirrored, smirking when you relented, letting him place it around your shoulders.
“Thank you,” you said softly.
You turned away from the water to face him, leaning back against the bannister. His eyes flitted up and down your form at his coat wrapped around shoulders, before his eyes met yours. He took a seat on the crate behind him, leaning back and settling into the post next to him. It was quiet a moment before he finally spoke.
“You weren’t in your cabin at dinner. Where have you been?”
You sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of his coat. “Thinking.”
“Thinking? About what?”
“About my future,” you said shakily, shoulders slumping. “Both the imminent one, and the one to follow based on what I decide tonight.”
Sturmhond nodded, seemingly lost in thought. “I’ve been thinking about that, too, if I’m being honest.”
You raised a brow at his words. He’d been thinking about your future? He’d been thinking about you? The thought was both intriguing and terrifying, and you hoped the confusion on your face wasn’t too apparent.
“Well, I…I’m sorry, what?”
“Your future directly impacts me,” he quickly corrected, suddenly steeling his face and meeting your confusion with his usual grin. “Where you go I go, remember? You are paying me, after all.”
You tried to hide your disappointment, forcing a smile. It was a foolish hope to have, that he’d think something more of you. But it wasn’t a hope you were ready to give up.
Not just yet, at least.
He seemed to notice your disappointment, brows furrowing. “Have I upset you?”
“No,” you quickly replied, trying to brush it off with a laugh. “No, it’s not you. I’m just not quite sure what I should do. I know you need an answer, and Ravka needs an answer, but…I don’t have one yet.”
“Why?”
You shook your head, sighing in frustration. “Earlier, I had more than halfway made up my mind. I value my freedom, but I think I value my dignity more. I don’t think I could go anywhere and face anyone, knowing I’ve turned my back on my duties. It may have not been a promise I made for myself personally, but it is a promise I had every intention of keeping.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” He asked, a genuine look of concern on his face.
His eyes softened on you as your face fell, and you turned away from him as you felt heat creep up to your cheeks. You could hear him stand and approach you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.
“Princess?” He asked, only worsening your embarrassment.
He spoke again, finally getting you to acknowledge him. “You’re worrying me, darling. Surely it cannot be that bad.”
“But it is,” you groaned, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes to stave off the tears you could feel brewing.
“Try me,” he said gently, carefully placing a hand on your arm. “You can tell me the truth. What’s stopping you from returning to Ravka?”
You could feel his touch even through the coat, which struck you like a punch to the gut when you remembered it was, in fact, his coat you were wearing. And to make it worse, that damned grin was on his face as he spoke with such a genuine kindness in his voice that it made you want to cry.
You finally met his eyes, taking a sharp breath. Shit, you thought to yourself. You were really going to admit it. He eagerly awaited your response, which you finally managed to utter.
“You.”
He sucked in a breath, withdrawing his hand. He looked up at the sky for a moment, before taking another breath and turning back to you.
“Me?” He asked.
“You,” you said again, exasperatedly laughing. “You, and your ridiculous clothes, and your infuriating charm, and your kindness and ambition…that damned smile.”
Sturmhond’s cheeks flushed, and he took a step back, although he was grinning like a fool. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. You didn’t dare speak, waiting for him to say something. After an agonizing moment of silence, he leaned against the bannister, letting out a chuckle.
“What?” You forced yourself to ask, preparing yourself for his answer.
“Saints, Princess…you’ve gone and done it now.”
You shook your head, your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach. “What?”
“You’ve managed to outdo me. On my own ship. Quite the feat, I’ll give you that,” he laughed, still grinning.
You narrowed your eyes, still shaking your head. “Sturmhond, I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re saying to me right now. Will you do the honor of enlightening me, or are you going to stand there grinning at me all night?”
“You like my grin,” he mused, making you flush.
He spoke again, saving you from your embarrassment. “And it just so happens that I like yours, too. I like all of you. Very much so indeed, Princess.”
Your heart lurched into your throat at his words, and you had to grab ahold of the bannister behind you to keep yourself steady. He placed his hand over top of yours, his palm warming yours.
“I cannot believe you beat me to the punch. It’s rude to upstage a captain on his own ship. You’re lucky you’re royalty. I’ll allow it just this once.”
You had just now calmed your breathing, beginning to take in the weight of his words, and what it meant for you both. “Sturmhond, I—”
“I have a confession to make,” he suddenly said in a very serious tone, startling you. “I don’t mean to interrupt you, but I must tell you something before either of us share something we can’t take back.”
“Alright…” You said uneasily.
Carefully, he took your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. You let him hold it, waiting for him to speak. Absentmindedly, you comfortingly ran your thumb along the back of his hand, silently reassuring him.
“My name isn’t Sturmhond,” he finally said, the nerves in his voice the worst you had ever heard them.
Trying not to jump to any hasty conclusions, you nodded, squeezing his hand once more. “Alright…if it isn’t Sturmhond, then what is it?”
“Well, technically it is, but it also isn’t. It’s just a nickname—” He rambled, and you placed your other hand on top of his to stop him.
“I gathered that much. What else are you trying to tell me? Go on, you can say it.”
He took a deep breath, his voice soft. “It’s true that people call me Sturmhond, but I’m much better known for my birth name…Nikolai. Nikolai Lantsov.”
The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. You tried not to flinch in his grasp, but you knew he could feel you stiffen. You cleared your throat, feeling your voice begin to grow hoarse
“Nikolai Lantsov…as in Prince Nikolai Lantsov, second son of the Ravkan throne? Moi tsarevich,” you croaked out, attempting to curtsy.
“Please,” Nikolai said, holding both your hands in his to keep you from bowing. “There is no need for such formalities, darling. If anything, I should be the one bowing to you.”
You stood up straight, shaking your head. “We’re long past that, don’t you think?”
He chuckled, nodding. “I suppose so.”
The reality of your situation began to set in, and you couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling along with him. He smiled at the sound, raising a brow.
“What is it?”
“I suppose my little dilemma is solved then,” you said, shrugging. “I was beginning to spiral, thinking my annoying habit of not being able to contain my feelings had ruined any decision I could have made. But of course—in your usual fashion—you’ve managed to upstage me. As is your right, it is your ship, after all. Well, I suppose there’s no decision to make now. At least, I think there isn’t…right?”
Any nerves you had mustered up were immediately squashed when Nikolai brought his hands up to cup your face, running his thumbs across the tops of your cheeks.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I’d take you wherever you wanted to go. All I can hope now is that you’ll allow me to join you…wherever that is.”
You brought a hand up to rest against his wrist. “Don’t you want to go home? You’re expected back in Ravka any day now.”
“I love my country, but I’m in no hurry to return. You’ve told me multiple times how dreadful court was for you—”
“That doesn’t matter,” you quickly said, squeezing his wrist.
“Of course it does! I cannot ask you to return to a country you’ll be miserable in for the rest of your days for a man you barely know.”
“It’s a good thing you aren’t asking, then,” you reaffirmed, giving him a smile. “I told you. I made a promise, and I intend to keep it. I said that I was afraid I would be all alone at court, and that I was afraid the man I am promised to wouldn’t want a life with me.”
“What a fool he’d have to be to not want that,” Nikolai joked, making your grin widen.
You continued to reassure him, not convinced that he was believing your words.
“You say that you’ll follow me wherever I go. Well, I want to go with you. Wherever that is. And I want you to go home. I may have not known you for long, but I’ve been around you long enough to know that you won’t truly be content if you’re tied to my wishes. And I know you’re too stubborn to admit that, so I’ll tell you my wishes, and I need you to believe me. I wish to be with you. I wish for you to return to wherever feels like home, and I wish for you to take me with you. If that’s Ravka, then Ravka will be home. Court will become much more bearable with you there. And if it begins to become too much, I know a certain privateer that can whisk us away for a few days.”
He was doing it again. Smiling like an idiot. He seemed to be in disbelief at your words, this being one of the very few times in his life that he couldn’t find the right words to say.
“I didn’t mean to trick you, Princess. I should have told you who I was from the beginning.”
You shook your head. “I don’t blame you, Nikolai. If I was given the chance, I wouldn’t have told you who I really was, either. At least, not until I knew I could trust you. I would have done the same as you did. It’s alright.”
“I can’t believe my luck,” he grinned, taking your hand. “How is it that my betrothed managed to stumble upon my ship the very hour I returned to Ravka?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not one to believe in fate, and it sounds impossible.”
“Not impossible…improbable,” he corrected, smirking when you playfully narrowed your eyes up at him.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile at your turn of luck. “Are we doing this? Are you going home to Ravka?”
“Are we going home, you mean? I can’t be expected to abandon my betrothed when she turns out to be the single most invigorating person I’ve ever met, now can I?”
“You cannot,” you agreed.
A comfortable moment of silence passed between you both, and you looked down at his hands as you held them in yours. The familiar glint of green on his finger made you chuckle.
“I knew it, by the way,” you added, grinning. “This coat and that ring are far too ridiculous for a privateer. They’re fit for royalty. Fit for a Lantsov.”
“Am I to understand that you’re not interested in a Lantsov emerald for your engagement ring?” He asked, smirking when you quickly shook your head.
You laughed, pulling his hand closer to inspect his ring. “I said nothing of the sort. I was merely observing how ridiculous it is, as well as this coat. But I’m still wearing it, aren’t I? If I’m going to be married to a ridiculous man, I should begin preparing now, shouldn’t I?”
He narrowed his eyes, playfully jutting his chin up at you. “You just like the coat and want to keep it. It’s alright, darling, you can admit it. We can have your own fitted for you, all you have to do is ask.”
Nikolai gripped the hem of your sleeve, tugging you closer by the arm of his coat. You let him pull you, chuckling nervously when he drew you nearer.
“I admit nothing, only that my future husband has a taste I will have to acquire. But I’m sure I’m up for the task. We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”
“We do,” he smiled, settling his hands around your waist. “Although I’ll have to admit, I don’t think we know each other well enough to become husband and wife.”
You tensed under his hold, and he quickly retracted his statement, shaking his head. He didn’t give you enough time to truly panic, interrupting your train of thought.
“And that’s perfectly fine, darling. Like you said, we have all the time in the world to get to know each other. I think I’d like to take advantage of that starting now. After all, it is our last night on the ship, isn’t it? At least, I assume it is. I expect you’ll want to set a course for Ravka now. Unless you’d rather I get down on one knee, and make a big show of it first. I can do that, if you wish.”
“I certainly wouldn’t stop you,” you chuckled, letting your hands rest on top of his as your tone shifted to a more serious note. “Are we really doing this, Nikolai? Returning to Ravka? Getting married?”
He smiled wider, a twinkle in his eye as he looked down at you. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you stepped foot on my ship, the second I laid eyes on you. And I’ve wanted you more every day since. I’m not one to believe in fate either, but I do think the Saints may have gifted you to me. Who knows what I did to deserve it, but you most definitely won’t find me questioning their will if you’re the result.”
You felt your heart swell at his words. He was right. Of all the ships in the harbor, his was the one you found yourself on. Of all the captains in Ravka, he was the one who took you in. The man you were supposed to marry, and you found yourself falling for him long before you even knew who he truly was. If that isn’t fate, then what is?
“I’ll take all the influence from the Saints I can get when it comes to explaining to your parents why I’ve disappeared right out from under them,” you said with a groan, leaning into him.
Nikolai chuckled, holding you close. “My Mother will forget all about it when she sees my future safely secured with marriage. There is no need to worry, trust me.”
“I may not have to worry about her, but I do need to worry about Tamar,” you said, letting out a pained chuckle. “I think she staked money on our little situation.”
“She most definitely did. I expect Tolya will be paying up when they hear the news. Who should break it to him?”
You grinned, shaking your head. “I think that duty lies with you, as my future husband. If I’m going to have to listen to Tamar’s endless bragging about being right, then you should have to take half the burden in the form of telling Tolya. That’s how marriage works, isn’t it? Half and half. It’s only fair.”
It was his turn to groan now as he pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, taking yours in the other.
“Alright, I’ll do it, but you have to accompany me. I think your presence will help soften the blow. What do you say, darling? After all…it’s only fair.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, squeezing his hand. “If I must. You’re lucky you’re pretty, Lantsov.”
“Darling, I’m lucky for a lot more than that,” he smiled endearingly, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
—
A/N - Hi! This is SO long, I’m so sorry. And I’m so sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been busy and had no time to write. But I finally forced myself to get this done, and now I have more time to write! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this, let me know what you think! Thank you again for the requests :)
#grishaverse imagine#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse imagines#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone x reader#six of crows#six of crows imagine
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Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.
Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞
Masterlist<3
Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else...
Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader
Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.
Word Count: 2.9K!!
Requested: Yes
A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)
˚ · • . °
Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.
How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?
When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.
Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.
Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.
They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.
His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.
"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.
"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.
Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.
Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.
The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."
Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".
˚ · • . °
She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.
Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.
He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.
If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.
Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.
"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.
She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.
The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.
"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.
Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.
Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.
"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.
Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.
Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.
Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.
This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.
So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.
After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.
"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.
The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.
A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.
"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".
˚ · • . °
And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.
As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.
Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.
"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.
As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.
They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.
She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.
Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.
Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.
They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.
˚ · • . °
Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.
In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.
Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.
He just hated that feeling.
It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.
And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.
The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.
"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"
The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.
˚ · • . °
Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.
He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.
He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.
He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.
He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.
He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.
He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.
Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.
˚ · • . ° .
Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...
Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!
Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3
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#kaz brekker#six of crows#kaz brekker x reader#shadow and bone#grishaverse#six of crows x reader#grishaverse x reader#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker fic#kazbrekker#kaz x reader#kaz brekker fanfic#kaz brekker angst#kaz brekker smut#kaz brekker oneshot#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lanstov#prince nikolai#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov smut#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lanstov x y/n#nikolai lanstov x reader#grishaverse oneshot#grishaverse headcanons#grishaverse fanfic#grishaverse imagines
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Dancing With Our Hands Tied
summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings.
warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, not proofread, no gendered pronouns used (that I know of), grisha!heartrender!reader
author’s note: dancing with our hands tied by taylor swift inspired this! also listen I love zoya and nikolai but nikolai is just sooooooo ksjfjsjs I wanted to write a reader insert for him.
—
What you had with your captain was something no one understood– not even the two of you.
Sturmhond– or Nikolai, as you knew him in secret– was your friend. Your captain. But he was also something more.
He was a rogue ship, and you were a lighthouse guiding him home. He was a dangerous sea, threatening to drown you if you tested your luck– and oh, how you were so close to seeing what would happen if you did.
You shouldn’t even know his true identity. But, as fate would have it, he needed a heartrender with a specific set of skills that you just happened to have, and you needed an escape.
You were his tailor– disguising his appearance and turning him into the infamous Sturmhond. That was the only reason you were allowed to see him without his mask– you were the one to put it back together.
“You’re not surprised?” He had asked you the first night your services had been requested.
The ginger hair of Sturmhond had faded. The crooked nose had straightened, but the same smug grin was still present.
“No,” you had said. “I know that heartbeat. I knew it was you a mile from your ship.”
That took him aback. How did you know his heartbeat?
You had laughed, your eyes twinkling with something he found mesmerizing. He didn’t know you– he was sure of it. He wouldn’t forget a face like yours.
One of your hands was on his shoulder, holding him still. The other roamed his face, fingers dancing across his skin as you worked.
“You’re staring,” you stated, your fingers moving to his messy blond hair. “Trying to figure out how I know you?”
“Yes,” he admitted, eyes watching your face intently. “Were you at the Little Palace?”
You nodded. “I was.” The blond of his hair started to turn red. “But I spent most of my time in the Grand Palace.” You paused, your hand leaving his shoulder to move to his chin, tilting his head to the side. You could hear his heart beat a tad bit faster.
“The Darkling gave me to your mother, as he did with Genya. I was her apprentice. She taught me how to tailor.” You told him.
“I didn’t suffer the same fate she did, if that’s what you’re wondering. Your father had eyes for her, not me.” You couldn’t help the bitterness in your voice. Nikolai flinched.
“You were rarely home– but I met you once, when we were both still small. That’s why I know your heartbeat. The only one of the Royal Family to have a good heart– not a sour one. It stuck with me, I guess you could say.”
“I don’t remember you,” he admitted, and you gave a small laugh. His blond hair was almost completely red now.
“I wouldn’t expect you to. You’re not the only one being tailored, Captain. The First Army can’t take me back if they don’t recognize me, now can they?”
“Are you listening?”
Nikolai’s voice broke you from your thoughts. He was sitting on the bed in his quarters on the ship. You stood between his knees, your hands on his face as you changed him back into Sturmhond.
“Mhm,” you hummed. You weren’t. This routine was something you could do in your sleep, and truthfully, you found your mind drifting off more and more whenever Nikolai required your assistance. It’s not that you found his company dull– quite the opposite, actually. But you didn’t want him to know that.
“No you weren’t,” he gave a small chuckle, one of his hands moving up to grab one of yours. He pulled it from his face as he intertwined your fingers.
“Nikolai,” you hissed, pulling your hand from his grasp. “Do you want me to mess up? I was in the middle of reforming your nose.”
He sighed, his hand falling back to his lap as you raised yours once more. You avoided his eyes, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw in them.
Between the two of you, he was the more open with his feelings. For the past few weeks, he had continuously tried to corner you and get you to talk about whatever the two of you were. To try and figure things out. You had successfully avoided him thus far, but you knew you were dancing on thin ice.
It was only a matter of time before he recruited one of the twins to subdue you while he forced you to listen. You wouldn’t put it past him, and you knew for a fact Tolya would help him. Curse that hopeless romantic.
“You’re insufferable. And exhausting,” he told you as you grasped his chin gently between your fingers, turning his face this way and that to examine your handiwork.
“I know. You tell me quite often,” you remarked, nodding to yourself as you moved to focus your sights on his hair.
He sighed. Silence engulfed the two of you. It was almost smothering, full of unsaid words and the tension between the two of you. You were suddenly aware of how close you were to him– his knees caging you in as you stood between his spread legs. His face in your hands, his hands now on your waist.
“We keep dancing around this,” he said. You didn’t reply, choosing to focus more intently on the roots of his hair. “The whole crew thinks we’re sleeping together.”
That caught you off guard. You gave a snort, rolling your eyes. “Of course they do. You call me to your quarters in the night, every week. You always stare at me, especially when you think I’m not looking. And you’re handsy– you’ve always got a hand on my back or my shoulder or something.”
Nikolai chuckled. “Well, you’re one to talk. Every time you laugh at something I’ve said, you grab onto my arm and go ‘oh Sturmhond!’. And don’t act like you don’t stare, too.”
“I do not say ‘oh Sturmhond’,” you said, looking down at him. He grinned that same crooked smile.
“I know you’re thinking it. Probably thinking some other things, too. Like how you’d like to–”
“Shut up, or I’m going to give you a black eye.” You hissed, pulling his hair harder than you should’ve.
He laughed. “You wouldn’t. You like my face too much.”
“Im sick of it, actually,” you remarked. “I see it everyday.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t be here.” He replied.
“You say that as if you’d let me leave. I’m the only tailor you’ve got.”
He shook his head. “That’s not the reason I wouldn’t let you leave, and we both know it.”
You dropped your hands as the last of his blond turned red. Your job here was done. There was nothing stopping you from bidding him goodnight and excusing yourself to your own cot. You knew he would drop it and let you go without another word, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. You didn’t want to say anything.
“So now you’re keeping me prisoner?” You said, suddenly all too aware of his hands squeezing your waist.
“Maybe I am. At least until you admit you like me,” he said, and you scoffed.
“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t be here–” you began, but he cut you off.
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
He moved to stand. You tried to step back, but his hands on you kept you rooted to the spot. You looked up at him, heat rising to your cheeks. Your chests were touching now, and there were only inches between your lips and his.
“When are we going to stop playing this game?” He whispered, one of his hands moving from your waist to brush a strand of hair from your face.
“You like it too much to stop.” You retorted.
“I’d like honesty more,” he said, and you shook your head. “As much fun as playing cat and mouse is with you, I’m growing tired of chasing. And we both know you’re tired of running.”
His hands were on your hips as he swung you around the deck, a laugh on his lips as you clung to his shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile as he dipped you, your eyes meeting his. There were unspoken promises in his gaze– too many feelings, and you had to look away.
Others danced around you two as a few of the crew played some song you’d never heard on makeshift instruments. Laughter and conversation made it hard to think straight. Spirits were high– you’d all just succeeded in breaking through a Fjerdan blockade– and that called for a celebration.
“They’re all going to think we’re together,” you had told Nikolai as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the dance floor. He had laughed, leaning in close to whisper “let them” in your ear.
He had kissed you for the first time that night, after the party had subsided and everyone was asleep but the two of you. You had been talking quietly, watching the stars and listening to the waves, and he had kissed you and you had melted.
“Nikolai..” you sighed, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“I don’t care,” he told you, and his heartbeat was as steady as it had ever been.
“I do,” you told him, meeting his gaze. “You can’t play pirate forever. What happens when you go back to Ravka, back to your family? You can’t marry me. I’m nobody– not a princess, not a diplomat. I’m an escaped servant who knows too much and would be imprisoned or executed for escaping.”
“Privateer,” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. “And I’m the second son– a bastard second son. I’m already a disgrace in their eyes,” one of his hands moved to the small of your back, his thumb rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. “I can’t disappoint them any more than I have.”
“It doesn’t matter what they think of you now, they still won’t let me anywhere near you.” You replied, and he shook his head.
“Why are we even talking about this?” He asked. “We’re not in Ravka. We’re in the middle of the ocean, and no one cares what we do.”
He was right. You were far from Ravka and his family and your pasts. You were someone new, and he was, too. You weren’t an escaped servant– you were Sturmhond’s first mate. You were his most trusted friend– besides the twins– and you were the one he wanted.
And you wanted him, too.
“I don’t care about details,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t care about families or consequences or rumors. I care about you, about that little smile you always get before you win at cards, about how you let me drag you onto the dance floor while the crew stares, and how you put up with me more than you should.”
You didn’t say anything, too stunned for words.
“I would do anything,” he began, his face slowly inching towards yours. “To dance with you again. To kiss you again. To not hide behind stolen glances and little jabs at each other.”
“Nikolai,” you murmured, your eyes flitting down to his lips.
“Yes?” He asked as your eyes found his once more.
“Just shut up.” You said, and you closed the gap between the two of you, your lips meeting his.
Maybe nothing he said would be true in the morning. Maybe he would realize this was all a big mistake, but you didn’t care.
He was right. You were tired of running, and you were so glad he was tired of chasing.
And as you kissed, that heartbeat that you’d remembered after all these years– that you’d always remember– soared.
And you knew he wasn’t lying.
#shadow and bone#shadow and bone fic#prince nikolai#nikolai x reader#nikolai imagines#sturmhond#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai lantsov#the grisha series#grishaverse#grisha triology#the grisha trilogy#the grishaverse#nikolai x you#prince Nikolai x you#sturmhond x reader#grisha!reader#heartrender!reader#genya safin#the darkling#paddy gibson#six of crows#sab netflix#shadow and bone imagine#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov fic
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req with nikolai lantsov x reader. they are married for convenience but are friends and support each other until they fall in love and everyone notices but them. reader and nikolai kiss a few times and sleep together but never talk about it. when zoya becomes queen nikolai asks reader if she will want to stay married to him and reader says she loves him, with or without a crown. angst with a lot of fluff at the end please!
anon i love the way you think (also all hail dragon queen zoya)
masterlist
Your husband may be joining you shortly.
It’s still strange to be saying that. Your husband, your king, your friend above all. Nikolai Lantsov has always been a great conspirator, a wonderfully clever thinker, so you trusted that he wasn’t merely making a drunken mistake when he asked for your hand in marriage over too many drinks one late night. Nikolai doesn’t do drunken mistakes. In fact, you think he gets drunk on purpose when making difficult choices to twist his enemies into thinking that they’ve got the upper hand, all so he can trick them when their eyes are closed in self-congratulation.
It might be a habit left over from his time burning the seas as Sturmhond, or it could just be Nikolai himself. Always the schemer, him; always the planner, the one with the ideas. His eyes glint like ice, his hair shines like metal. Both can cut if given the chance. No Lantsov would ever let themselves go into the unknown vastness without a weapon, even if the only one left is their own physical flesh and bone.
No, Nikolai wasn’t kidding when he asked you to marry him. By all accounts, it was a logical choice. The other nations had been clamoring for him to wed one of their daughters for quite some time now, and marrying you gave Nikolai an easy way out. You were a Ravkan noble, and well-connected to the independence cause while the Darkling was still in power. Having you as his bride would alienate no foreign powers just as it would connect him even further to his own people.
That’s the reason he gave you at least, his fingers tented in the shadow of a half-empty glass of champagne. The two of you were somewhere inside one of the Grand Palace’s mammoth rooms, far from the slippery wastes of the shadows outside. Nikolai always gambled best when his feet were on his own ground, when he didn’t have to fear anything or anyone interrupting his flow of thought. He could trick you into pledging your loyalty regardless of where he stood, of course, but it could never hurt to get the odds all in his favor.
You had said yes. Of course you had. You are Nikolai’s best friend, or so you like to claim. You think it could be true at one point. Maybe that will come after the veil descends over your eyes and a ring appears on your finger. Still, you think you’ll remember the way Nikolai’s gaze had sparked with triumph upon hearing your answers for years to come, as well as how he’d finally allowed a tipsy flush to descend upon his cheeks. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a terrible mistake after all.
The wedding served its political purpose. The biggest change the marriage gave your life was that it handed you a permanent spot in the Grand Palace. Before, you were always temporary, forever having your terms of service extended as your help was needed more and more in the war effort. Now, you’re a fixture for real, never having to worry about being gradually cut out again. It certainly allows you to make it to meetings on time with that much more certainty.
Also, you’re not alone anymore. You never were, not really; Ravka is a cramped sort of annex, the kind of place in which you can hardly go down the length of a street without bumping into at least half a dozen people. The palace is on a whole separate level, however. Here, there are guards stationed everywhere, First and Second Army alike, then all the Grisha there with the Triumvirate or having arrived to report from the Little Palace just around the corner. Factor in palace staff, random diplomats, and spies, and you’ve got an audience fit for any queen, no matter how recently crowned.
No, hardly a dull moment indeed. Still, in the times when you need company most, those late nights when you’re certain that Ravka could never possibly come back from all the fights it has chosen to pick, you have someone there with you, someone who understands. When the moon has hung overhead for quite some time and the lights are off, Nikolai sits by your side, whispers that it’s going to be alright. Neither of you believe it, but it makes it better to hear someone you trust speak the foolish hopes aloud.
In all honesty, you think you’re growing to rely on him a little too much. At the beginning, you and Nikolai both agreed that this was strictly a marriage of convenience, that you had started this whole affair as friends and you would end it as such as well. Yet when Nikolai presents you to everyone in his path as his wife with that same giddy look on his face, it’s easy to pretend that his feelings could be elsewhere.
Elsewhere, just as yours are now. You had not intended to fall for him, but Nikolai does not make it a difficult task. He never has. There is another reason you agreed to his proposal, one you would not tell him in a thousand years: you assumed that you would never get such a chance again. Nikolai is, after all, a royal, and you are not. If you had declined his offer, it would only be to watch him wed someone else. At least now you get to claim his heart. At least now it is halfway yours, even if he grows to love someone else. On paper, he is chained to you.
Some days, that is enough. Others, you won’t satisfy yourself until you know for sure. There are a few nights when both of you want to prove something, when you take kvas instead of water for too long and let yourselves pretend that your alliance is something more than mere politics. You have kissed him more than you thought you would, even when no one was watching and there was no audience in need of a ruse to be kept up. You did it because you wanted to, and he kissed you back because he needed it just as much as you.
You never offer up an explanation for those nights, and neither does he. In the morning, you both go about your business as if nothing had ever happened. In reality, it hasn’t. Small altercations involving both of you ignoring your duties have no place in the future. You are wed for Ravka and you’ll die for her too. Falling in love is only a distraction, and not one that will serve you well. You learn that soon enough.
Your husband may be leaving you shortly.
Nikolai is not a Lantsov, not really. The rumor mills have known it for some time, and you think Nikolai has as well. Of course it would all come to ruin at some point. Nikolai has had an incredible grip on his broken country for quite some time, but all those petty shards just sliced his hands to ribbon. It would all drop eventually, and no one could blame him for that.
The nobles wanted answers. They always do. What you did not expect, however, was to walk out of a conference in which Zoya Nazyalensky was named as ruler of Ravka instead of Nikolai. The general of the Second Army is a worthy queen, of course, and you easily hand your title over to her; the stress could gray your hair like a silver tiara, but it still leaves you wondering what comes next.
It also makes you think about Nikolai. Nikolai, who wed you to avoid political conflict. Nikolai, who is no longer in that same position. Nikolai, who has absolutely no reason to remain married to you at all.
Your thoughts race in a tumultuous rhythm all the way back to your quarters after that fateful meeting. It’s going to hurt. What will? And: of course it will. What in this world doesn’t? You close the door behind you and walk halfway into the room before coming to a stop again. This has been your place for so long. It almost feels cruel to leave it.
The door opens behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know who has intruded on your shared space. You have long since been able to identify Nikolai by the turn of his step, the even rush of his breath, the quiet shuffle of his fingers in his gloves.
“Do you hate me for not giving you more advance notice?” He asks. Nikolai is careful to keep his voice neutral, but you hear the way his breathing hesitates as he waits for your response.
“No,” you say, although you do not turn around, “I knew you came up with it about thirty seconds before you said it. You didn’t have time.”
Nikolai exhales slowly. “We’ve had a lot of time.”
You close your eyes. This is the part you’ve been waiting for. This is when he ends it. Nikolai has no more use for you, not after he’s done his political maneuvering and finally managed to get himself out of the whole mess of kingship. You have always loved Nikolai for his mind, but Saints, if it doesn’t hurt sometimes to feel it used in the wrong direction.
“You could do it, you know,” you whisper, “No one would blame you.”
Nikolai had been starting to walk towards you, but his heels come to an abrupt click-stop on the floor. “What?”
You let out a bitter, quiet laugh. “End it. The marriage. People are already asking if you’re going to cut it off. We only made this agreement so you could fend off the other Ravkan nobles while you were king. You’re no longer king, why keep this around any longer? I won’t force you to stay with me if you love someone else.”
Nikolai is deathly silent for a moment, then two. You tense your shoulders, waiting for the blow to land, but it never does. Instead, he walks to your side and takes your hand.
“Do you always have to be such a martyr, sweetheart?”
Your lips part in a silent gasp. “What?”
Nikolai has the nerve to smile as if he hasn’t upset your entire world. “I know you didn’t just marry me for politics. I didn’t ask you just for politics, either. We wanted something. Maybe I still want it.”
He squeezes your hand; you squeeze it back, two beats of a heart. “You could marry Zoya, though. If you still wanted the crown.”
Nikolai laughs. “I don’t want the crown, and although I am certainly grateful to Zoya, I don’t want to marry her, either. No, Y/N, I want you. I want to wander through Ravka without having to worry about all the responsibilities of my office. I want to rent a rusted schooner and show you the sea. I want to get us in trouble and out of it again and again. I want to do a thousand things with you that we never could have done as king and queen. I want to die having loved you, and having loved you right.”
You smile, unable to stop for a second. “We can grow old without anyone needing us.”
Nikolai closes his eyes for a moment as if picturing it. “I think I’d like nothing more.”
You stand in a room that is no longer yours, in a palace that no longer calls your name. You think you have never been happier about it. You still have your husband. All else is a mere triviality.
grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggiesolovey
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov oneshot#grishaverse#grishaverse imagines#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse oneshot#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagines#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone oneshot#grishaverse nikolai#grishaverse nikolai imagines#grishaverse nikolai x reader#grishaverse nikolai oneshot
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Your beauty never ever scared me
Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader
Summary: figuring out you were a descendant of the darkling messed up everything. with all the backlash you received because of this, your self esteem takes a blow. the company of a certain prince causes you to realize that you aren’t the monster you began to think you were.
warnings: some angst but this has a happy ending
a/n: the nikolai brain rot is real 😔🫶 enjoy! Also this is set before it’s revealed that mal is the third amplifier.
No. No, Baghra was wrong. You knew who you were and who your family was, she was wrong.
You’ve been going over the pieces of dialogue you had with Baghra ever since the sun set in your bed- well one of the palace’ bed. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of being related to him, to sharing his blood, his power.
To having any connection with the darkling.
You were never discovered by the grisha as a kid. Whenever the testers came by, your parents would give you a small cut somewhere on your body that could easily be hidden and at the time you didn’t think much of it- because you could barely remember them doing that.
You never had a good relationship with your parents so you didn’t think anything of it when they’d hurt you. It was just normal.
You never necessarily feared grisha, but you always feared the Fold and by extension, the power of the darkling. To think that all it would take for the Fold to get worse was to piss him off.
And piss him off you did.
During his little demonstration with Alina in the Fold, he tried to get you to join him thinking that you knew. That interaction finally made sense to you.
Feeling your head start to hurt and feeling even worse after realizing what’s in your blood, you turn off the lights in your room and go to bed.
—
“I hope I’m not ruining your day too much, sweetheart.”
Nikolai woke you up early this morning and asked for you to accompany him on a horse ride, “just for fun.” he said.
You knew better though, Nikolai never batted an eye at you since you boarded his- sturmhond-, ship. Alina was always more interesting. You knew that you were respected once you got the palace though, Tolya continuously singed out praises of your name to the army.
You knew that people in the palace had no problem with your presence, until now. Until people learned that you were grisha. Not everyone knows you’re related to the Darkling however, only a few people know.
Including Nikolai.
So you knew better. You knew that the only reason why you were with him right now is because he was told to keep an eye on you, to supervise you. You were now considered to be scum, as you were grisha.
“Wasn’t planning on doing much today, so I’m fine.”
You heard a soft snicker come from Nikolai’ direction but chose to keep your eyes forward and focused on the path in front of you two.
“Right,” he says with a slight grin on his face, “I’m glad, I’d never want to ruin a pretty girls’ mood.” From your peripheral you could see Nikolai observing you, looking for a reaction. He’s use to the normal flush of the cheeks and a stutter through a sentence, but you had no reaction to hearing him call you pretty. He had a rather flirty personality so his words meant nothing to you.
You remained silent hoping he would drop the conversation. You didn’t have anything against Nikolai, you actually really liked him. You could tell that he was going to be the king that Ravka needs.
But there was too much on your mind for you to be able to have small talk.
Nikolai suddenly let out a distressed sigh, “I have a meeting to get to sweetheart, if Vasily wasn’t getting on my back every hour of the day I would’ve stayed all day out here with you,” he pulls the reigns on his horse and turns towards the palaces’ direction, “let’s go back?” He gives you a small guilty smile and tilts his head resembling a puppy begging for a treat.
You nod feeing glad that you’ll be able to fully indulge in your thoughts and pull the reigns on your horse, riding back to the palace.
—
“She’s a monster!”
Nikolai was tempted to raise his voice, he and Vasily have been at it for the past hour. Yesterday, news got out that you were grisha- the soldiers gossip- and Vasily immediately told Nikolai that he should make you leave. Nikolai fought back against that idea and to get Vasily to shut up for at least a day about you, he agreed to “spy” on you.
“Nothing has changed, she’s still the same person Tolya constantly praised, and that you wanted as your bride.”
Nikolai did not want to have this conversation again. You were still the same girl he met on the ship, the two of you may have not interacted as much but he still saw you.
You were nothing like the Darkling and he had no problem reminding his brother of how infatuated he was with you.
“That was before I realized she was his kin, a monster just like him!” Nikolai clenched his jaw, finding it harder to control his raising temper. Vasily paced around his room, repeatedly mumbling out curses in the remembrance of previously touching you.
He was disgusted and he, like many other people in the palace, wanted you gone. He stopped pacing when Nikolai straightened his back before getting up from his chair and walking to the door of the room, indicating that this little meeting was over. “Nikolai,” Vasily called out in a strained voice, “Think about the people.”
Nikolai felt his body freeze. Think about the people. Oh, he was thinking about the people. You were no threat, maybe to your enemies but not his people. Not wanting to lash out at his brother, Nikolai took a sharp breath and rolled his shoulders back. “Good night, brother,” he decides to say. He faces his body towards him and while still trying to keep his composure, he sends his brother a sharp glare with eyes filled with pure irritation, “I will not change my mind.”
—
You pressed your head further into your pillow trying to block out the obnoxious knocks that were coming from your door. Who could possibly already be in need of your presence?
After a few more seconds of the continuous knocks getting more aggressive and louder, you gave in to the persistent demands for you to open the door and got up.
“It’s really quite early,” you said through loose lips. You abruptly finished your sentence, a slight feeling of panic rushing into your body. Nikolai Lantsov. He was here again, the people must be getting more weary of you if he felt the need to visit you again.
You didn’t bother fixing up your hair or straightening out your evening wear before opening the door and you greatly regretted not doing so at the moment, you dropped your shoulders feeling embarrassed that he saw you in an unprofessional state.
He put on a slight smile in attempt to charm you, which he succeeded at, you internally pushed away that feeling of giddiness and straightened your posture waiting for him to speak.
“Yes it is quite early, that’s why I came here,” his eyes trail down your body and back up to your eyes before outstretching an arm, “breakfast?”
“Uh,” you stutter out, “sure, just let me…clean myself up.” You awkwardly moved your gaze from him trying to avoid how awkward this situation was as you closed your door- his was mid sentence in saying of course he’ll wait- but your door closed before he was able to finish.
You sat down in the chair that was in front of a middle sized mirror just above the table. You stared at your reflection for a few seconds before bringing your hands up to cover your face and curling your body into yourself. You much prefer not having the Prince’ attention.
—
It’s been a little over three months since Nikolai invited you for breakfast and you’ve begun to question his actual intentions.
He comes to your room each morning and invites you for breakfast and shares most of his hours with you, but all of these hangouts tend to follow your own terms.
If you wanted to go back to your room, Nikolai would simply walk you to your room, kiss the back of your hand, and continue his day without you. Usually you’d be the one to reach out to him during these days if you decided you wanted to be outside your room again.
You almost forgot that he had a duty as being a prince and that you were related to their current number one enemy. And you almost forgot that people still feared grisha. Almost.
People talk and rumors spread fast, you and Nikolai weren’t invisible whenever you two walked around the palace grounds. Inevitably people began to gossip.
Nikolai was always with you, he spoke of finding a bride openly around you which has caused some people to theorize about your relationship with him. The most common theory was that you were using him, that you used your grisha powers as a threat against him, that you would hurt the people if he did not enter a romantic relationship with you.
You tried to block them out. Nikolai never brought those rumors up so you assumed he just never heard them, well you weren’t going to be the one to tell him about it. What if he hears them then realizes that they might be right, that he was an idiot for ever letting his guard down around you.
As much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn’t deny the way your heart would race every morning, every time he knocked on your door and offered his arm. Every time he’d invite you into his personal quarters and give you that stupid smile paired with a tilt of his head that made you want to do anything he’d ask of you.
He made you feel like you weren’t a monster, that you weren’t a threat. You didn’t want to loose his trust, and you didn’t want to loose him. The amount of trust he has put in you threw you in for a loop, you’ve been constantly arguing with yourself over whether or not he’s being genuine or is still keeping an eye on you.
You couldn’t fault him if he was just doing this to keep an eye on you still, the Darkling has been visiting you, just like he was been with Alina.
“Sweetheart?”
You immediately tore your eyes away from the food in front of you after hearing his voice. In front of you; Nikolai was leaning slightly forward his eyebrows furrowed giving his face a worried expression.
“Yes?” You replied. You don’t know how long it’s been since you zoned out, but when you pick up your silver ware to put some of the food in your mouth it was cold.
Nikolai let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding, “Did you hear what I said?”
Shit.
You opened your mouth to say a lie, yes, but you knew that he’d immediately call your bluff. He was observant, too observant sometimes. He had a talent for reading people.
“No,” you decided to say, “sorry, I zoned out.”
He leaned back in his chair and relaxed his eyebrows, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been telling you about my day and you zone out? Do I really not matter to you?” He whines.
Nikolai had a thing for theatrics, especially when it was to tease someone. Seeing that you had no regret in your gaze towards him, he lets out another breath and gives in to the smile he was holding back.
“That’s alright, this means that I can spend more time with you.” His wholesome smile now turning into a flirtatious grin, he puts his forearms on the table and leans closer to your face, “I do quite enjoy your company anyways.” His smile slightly drops as his eyes also fall to your lips then back to your eyes.
Lately you two have been having more moments like this, where the two of you fall into moments like these where Nikolai’ flirting feels more genuine.
The one thing that hasn’t changed throughout these few months of you two hanging out was that you knew better. Flirting was a regular thing for Nikolai, and because of that you let out a laugh causing Nikolai to lean back; seeming to now be avoiding your gaze.
“Nikolai, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for me? The big bad grisha,” you tease. You felt a little disappointed at seeing that he was avoiding your gaze, Nikolai wasn’t the type to back away from flirting. You lean forward on the table, “Saints Nikolai, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.”
Taking your teasing tone as a dare, he returned his gaze to you and leaned forward on the table coming dangerously close to your face. This time you were taken aback, and ever the observer, he saw. He accompanied his smug expression with a smirk, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.” His voice turned into a whisper as he finished his sentence.
He waited for you to do something. He wanted to see how long you’d last, for what exactly, well only Nikolai really knows that.
You counted your heartbeats, and three heartbeats later Nikolai dropped his gaze and turned his head as he let out a snicker, “Just messing around princess,” he straightened his back and got out of his seat, “we leave before sundown.”
You watched as he left the dining area, a little confused at what he meant about leaving before sundown but then you remembered; the mission.
“Shit.”
—
“Nikolai,” you called out to him as you walked into his tent, “why is my tent all the way on the other side of camp?”
This mission really wasn’t that dangerous compared to everything else that was going on but you didn’t want to gamble Nikolai’ life, since he was a prince.
“Good evening to you to sweetheart,” he said in a lighthearted tone before putting down the letter in his hand, “can’t keep your mind off of me?”
He was right, you couldn’t.
You let out a scoff slightly annoyed, “What if you get attacked? And I’m all the way on the other side of camp- I wouldn’t be able to help!”
Mirroring his actions earlier in the day, his refused to meet your gaze as he leaned back in his chair. “If I were to get attacked, you’d be safe. I have people with me- fighters who’ll be able to protect me if I somehow am not able to protect myself. You don’t need to worry.”
You exhaled as you felt yourself deflate. You wanted to say more but you knew that it wouldn’t matter once the conversation ended. All you would’ve succeeded at was creating some unnecessary tension between the two of you, with you being annoyed, which Nikolai thought was already out of character with you getting upset about something so small, and Nikolai being busy.
You glanced back at him before turning around to leave his tent, resembling a toddler who got upset after hearing they couldn’t get a toy they wanted.
Hearing your footsteps get further away, Nikolai lifted his head and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before shaking his head and picking up the letter again.
—
Nikolai lifted his head from his desk as soon as he heard a deafening scream, immediately on high alert and running out of his tent. The first thing that greeted Nikolai were soldiers running. Tents were on fire and the once peaceful camp was now overwhelmed with chaos.
Instead of his first thought being to get his people out of this ambushed camp, which was his second, he wanted to get to you. Now he regretted putting your tent on the other side of camp, now he had no idea where you were or if you were ok.
He started running to your side of the camp before getting blocked by a drüskelle-
“Desjenet!” yelled out the drüskelle. Nikolai began to reach out for his sword but made no action to take it out yet. “I’m not grisha-“
“But you protect them,” seethed out the drüskelle, “you are an enemy if you protect them.”
Not leaving anytime for Nikolai to respond, the drüskelle lunged forward but was never able to make contact with Nikolai. The man began to sway before falling apart. His head, upper body, and lower body all disconnect from each other as he falls to the ground, a dark wisp of smoke fading into the air as he does.
Nikolai didn’t take much time looking at the corpse in front of him when he heard another scream, forcing him to look up and see who was responsible for the death.
You. There you are standing in front of him, seemingly frozen in place and regret immediately floods into your veins. You just killed some using his power. You looked up at Nikolai and suddenly felt the need to throw up. So much to not wanting him to see you as a monster.
Nikolai, remembering that someone screamed, moved his gaze to the soldier a few feet away from you who had seemed to have seen you kill a man using the Darkling’ power. “Monster…” the soldier whimpered out before running away.
Nikolai had the urge to curse out his soldier but swallowed that urge down, the camp was still on fire and the two of you needed to get out. He ran over to you and grabbed you by the arm. “Are you alright,” he asks. You avoid his gaze. When you don’t answer he begins to start running, with his hand still on your arm dragging you through the camp, trying to find a horse.
He felt you stiffen and he felt you resist your urge to pull away from him. He wanted to look back at you, to talk to you face to face and assure himself that you’re alright but he decides against it. You guys will talk once you get back to the little palace.
—
You’ve been in Nikolai’ personal quarters before but you’ve never been on his bed. You’re sure your thoughts would’ve been completely incoherent if you weren’t so caught up about using the cut.
Saints, you were truly a monster.
Nikolai entered the room, he was checking up with his soldiers and making sure everyone or at least most of the people who were at the camp came back here. If there were any that didn’t, a rescue squad was already sent out.
You didn’t bother to look at Nikolai as he sat down on the edge of his bed next to you. You couldn’t look at him, you didn’t even want him to speak. You couldn’t bare to hear him call you a monster-
“Are you alright,” he says instead.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
He chuckles. You thought you’d never hear that again, you never he thought he’d bring you back to the palace.
“I’m alright. Now, are you going to give me an answer?”
You don’t give him an answer for a few seconds. Then suddenly the confusion become to hard to contain, “Why did you bring me back here?”
He turns his head to you and tilts it, now being the confused one, “You’re one of my soldiers, why would I not?”
“Because I’m a monster!” You blurt out. You don’t get why he cared, and now you’re really questioning if he was just spying on you the entire time or not, it seems like he was not.
“I’m not just a grisha Nikolai, I’m related to the enemy, I used to his power to kill someone right in front of you! Now everyone in the palace knows I’m related to him, all the soldiers are weary of me and it makes it even worse that I’m close to you. You’re reputation is getting corrupted because you’ve been seen with me.”
He doesn’t answer, he just keeps his eyes on you and lets you continue.
“The people think I’m- that I’m using my power to manipulate you and seeing how you had no reaction to me using the cut, they might come to some stupid conclusion that you’re actually conspiring with the enemy-“
“Y/N.” He finally interrupts, “Is that what’s been on your mind for these past few months?”
The last time he called you by your name was when he was Sturmhond. Hearing him call you by your name succeeded at making your heart ache even more.
“Yes,” you say, “so I don’t understand why I’m still here.”
You turn your head to meet his eyes and regret it immediately. The amount of intensity in his eyes is enough to make you choke on your saliva.
“Do you want to take a shower?” He asks. You can’t figure out if he’s trying to change the topic or maybe you just smell that bad. Maybe changing the topic is what you needed before you end up having a full on mental break down in front of him.
“Ok,” you whisper. Nikolai gets up and walks to his bathroom, soon you hear the sound of water entering his bathtub. Noticing that you didn’t follow him, Nikolai sticks his head out of his bathroom and gestures you to come into his bathroom.
Even though the atmosphere was rather uncomfortable, you still…liked him. So being invited into such a personal space still managed to make you shy.
Nikolai is leaning against his bathtub when you enter his bathroom. Hearing you enter, Nikolai lifts his head up to look at you then glances at your face, your hair, and your body before getting up to give you some alone time.
Getting a random surge of boldness you grab his hand and keep him in place. He turns his head to look at you and tilts his head in confusion, once again resembling a puppy.
“Can you…stay,” you cringe internally after hearing those words come out and avoid his gaze as you feel your cheeks flush. You hear a cough, as if someone was trying to stifle a laugh.
“Ok.”
You’re thankful that he doesn’t tease you for asking him to stay, the atmosphere is still rather uncomfortable for that.
He keeps his back turned to give you some privacy as you undress. Once you finish undressing, you fold your clothes and tuck them into a corner that you were sure wouldn’t get wet.
You cleared your throat once you fully got into the tub, “You can turn around now.”
From your peripheral, you see Nikolai sit down on a stool that was right next to his bathtub. “Do you need help cleaning yourself?” He asks.
You should’ve shaken your head because you’re fully capable of cleaning yourself, but you couldn’t fight back the giddiness in you that manifested at the thought of a physically intimate moment with Nikolai. So you nod.
Nikolai picks up a small towel and rubs it on a bar of soap before putting it on your body. You hoped he wasn’t able to see your red face as you flushed even more when he started moving the towel.
“You aren’t a monster.” He says instead once again, “You haven’t changed at all,” you turned your head to look at him but he didn’t meet your eyes, his eyes focused on your body as he cleaned it. “You’re still the same girl that boarded Sturmhond’ ship. You’re still caring, and thoughtful. You still overthink and stress too much on what other people think of you, but you’re also confident at the same time. You know your worth and you simply want to make sure other people do to.” He moves you hair out of the way as he moves the towel to the back of your neck.
“Actually maybe you aren’t the same girl I met. But you’re not to blame for that.” You didn’t think it was possible but your heartbeat began to thump even harder at feeling his hand, even though it was separated by a towel, on your neck. Oh, and also by his words. You didn’t think he noticed you that much when he was Sturmhond.
Suddenly he looked up and you looked away.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuc-
“You aren’t the Darkling. You saved me. Well I mean, drüskelle are strong, I admit, but they wouldn’t have been able to kill me.”
You could hear the grin on his face, it was attempt to lighten the mood, to see if you felt better.
“You’re power doesn’t determine what you are, Y/N, how you use it determines that. And as far as I’m concerned, you haven’t used it unjustly.” He curled his index finger under your chin and put his thumb on your chin to turn your head, so you’d finally be looking at him. “Don’t let your fear of your power determine your worth.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you got lost in his eyes. Yes, you were listening to him and it made your heart ache in a good way at hearing his words, but feeling his touch made it difficult to concentrate.
“Ok,” you whispered. You looked down, fully processing his words. You weren’t a monster. You weren’t a monster.
You weren’t a monster.
Noticing the sides of your lips slowly lift, Nikolai felt a small smile form on his face and lets go of your face. He failed to see how the sides of your lips slightly went down.
Feeling that the atmosphere felt more light, you attempted to make a joke, “Well, are you just going to sit there?”
“Hm?” Nikolai raises an eyebrow at your question. Did you want him out…?
“You’re not going to join me?”
Without missing a beat, Nikolai speaks up, “Do you want me to?” It wasn’t meant to be teasing, but it easily came off as such.
Fully expecting Nikolai to say something a little more…bold, his nonchalant yet teasing question caused you to look away from him, again, feeling embarrassed at your bold “joke.”
Nikolai lets out a laugh that makes you swoon. Saints, the affect this man had on you was embarrassing.
“Saints Y/N, if you’re going to flirt then at least commit to it.” He says, mirroring your previous conversation.
You turn your head back at him and take a moment to figure out what you want to say in return, you decide to say something you’ve heard before. Leaning slightly towards him but still managing to cover your cleavage, you say, “Is that what you want? For me to commit? To you.”
Nikolai freezes completely, not sure how to react to that. Yes, he wants you to commit, he wants you, but do you want him? He’s sure that he’s been interpreting your feelings as romantic correct, but he still had that thought of just maybe, maybe he was wrong.
Nikolai was never one to back off from a challenge however, so he leans forward and rests his forearms of his knees; leaning in closer to your face, “Yes,” he says, “I do.”
He brings one his hands up to the side of your face and cups it, leaning in closer but leaving enough room to still be able to back away if he was reading this all wrong. He looks into your eyes and practically pleads for your approval, for you to let him kiss you.
When all you do is lean closer, Nikolai fully closes the distance and connects his lips with yours.
As one could expect from a kiss with Nikolai, it was passionate and loving and deep. You could feel how deep his feelings for you ran and you could feel all of his feelings. Growing impatient, for some reason, Nikolai grabbed the back of you neck to deepen the kiss. He brought his other hand up to your bottom lip and brushed it down. Realizing what he wanted, you opened your mouth and to your surprise; Nikolai whined into the kiss.
Finding it funny that Nikolai was a whiner, you began to laugh. It started with small giggles but then turned into actual laughs causing Nikolai to pull away and slightly deadpan at you.
When you didn’t stop laughing, Nikolai leaned back and let out a sigh, opting to just let you finish laughing.
“Sorry, sorry, just didn’t take you as a whiner,” you say before you burst out laughing again.
Nikolai continued to watch you laugh with a slightly annoyed, but adoring, expression before brushing your hair out of your face. “You know, you never answered my question.”
You wipe fake tears out of your eyes as you try to calm down, “huh?”
“When I asked if you wanted me to commit to you, you never gave me an answer.”
“I think my answer is quite obvious now.” You let out a soft laugh before Nikolai spoke again.
“Yes well, I want to hear it.” Nikolai leans forwards again but not as close as before, just close enough to where he could you whisper yell, “I want to hear that you want me.” He finishes with a slight smirk.
You look away from him, getting flustered again. He really wanted to hear you profess your feelings for him, huh.
As you were getting flustered you remembered that Nikolai was a whiner. As much as you wanted Nikolai, he was arguably more desperate for you. So why not tease him a little more?
You leaned forward again, not bothering to cover your cleavage anymore, and pressed your lips onto his, but not necessarily kissing him. “Alright my prince,” you whisper out. The smirk on his lips immediately drop as he tries to kiss you again but then you pull away, and before he could whine again, you leaned forward again. “I want you to commit to me. I want you.” Nikolai could barely focus at feeling your lips brush onto his, feeling as if he didn’t kiss you right here right now, he’d go crazy.
Feeling smug, you pull away from him to which he immediately follows. He puts his hand on the back of your neck once again and pulls you forward, connecting your lips again.
He groaned this time at the feeling of your lips on his.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fanfic#shadow and bone#shadow and bone fanfic#nikolai x reader#siege and storm#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov x you#grishaverse#shadow and bone x reader
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Still be here in the morning?
Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader
Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?
Word Count: 2.9K
Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*
Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D
It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.
You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.
"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.
"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.
"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"
"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."
"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"
"I'm aware."
"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."
"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."
"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"
Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"
You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."
"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."
"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."
After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.
To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.
He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.
A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.
"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.
"What do you want, Mouse?"
"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."
"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."
"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.
"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.
"Make me."
"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.
"I said, make me, Lantsov."
"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.
Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.
"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.
"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.
"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."
Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.
"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.
Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."
He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.
He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.
He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."
His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.
Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.
Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.
"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."
"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.
He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.
Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.
Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.
"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.
Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.
You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.
You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.
Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.
"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.
His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.
"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
"It's stupid."
"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.
"Why would I be mad?"
"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.
"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"
"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.
You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"
You shook your head.
"Do you trust me?"
You nodded your head.
"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"
You hesitated.
"Well, we've found our problem."
"You don't love me."
"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.
"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."
"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.
You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"
"Honey, you drive me wild."
You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.
You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.
A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."
You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.
fin.
#grishaverse#nikolai lantsov#netflix shadow and bone#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov being kind#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov imagines#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov x you#no y/n#shadow and bone#shadow and bone fanfic#nikolai x reader#siege and storm#nikolai lantsov imagine#shadow and bone x reader
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Hi, I just stumbled upon your blog and immediately fell in love with your writing (that darkling fic), so I don't know if you write for Nikolai, but I think that man is a man written by Taylor Swift, so if you could, could you write a fic based on a song “I think he knows” like maybe they're friends but Nikolai has a crush on her and Nikolai is always smug about it and shamelessly flirts with her because he loves getting her all flustered but she just shrugs him off because she believes that Nikolai is always flirty with everyone but Nikolai proved her wrong and just continued on flirting with her until one day she confessed that she also has a crush on him? I don't know if that made sense.
this is my first time writing for Nikolai, admittedly, so I apologise if it isn't the most magical thing you've ever read. I did try though! but ill stand by when I said the entire grishverse was ghostwritten by Taylor swift. there is no questions. PERIOD. btw I love u, anon <333
warnings: none
word count: 2k
I Want You, Bless my Soul
(nikolai lantsov x fem!reader)
-
“One of these days I am going to charm you into a kiss, and then you won’t be able to resist me.”
You scoffed and looked up at your best friend while he stood over the desk you sat at, sketching a bit in your notebook, “A kiss? I bet you offer kisses to all the girls you know.” You countered and glanced back down at your work.
Nikolai simply shrugged and sat down on the other side of his desk and he crossed his arms over his chest, “Well, there aren’t many girls around here to talk to.” He argued back playfully and reached across the desk to give your nose a little tap.
“You’re insufferable!” You gasped playfully and then you shook your head, “you should be ashamed, making all the girls around you feel so pretty and special.”
“Does that mean I make you feel pretty and special?” He asked excitedly and you simply shook your head.
“No, because I know better, Lantsov.”
“Ah. Well. One of these days. You’ll see.” He promised and you rolled your eyes in return.
-
You stood up on the deck of Nikolai’s ship and drummed your fingers against the hard wood rails while you watched some of the Grisha on the ship work to keep it sailing smoothly. You’d been friends with the blonde prince as long as you could remember, and when he skipped off to do his own business and sail, he’d eagerly invited you to join him.
Meaning, you were the only person aboard the ship to know he was the Lantsov prince, a secret of which you kept at the utmost importance. You loved the boy with all of your heart- a little bit too deeply- in fact, you were one hundred percent sure that you were in love with your best friend. But the only issue was, he was a natural flirt. It seemed like every girl he spoke to, every time he opened his mouth, every word he said, had someone swooning or falling to their knees. You had accepted a long time ago that you had no shot with the prince and you had made your peace with it.
That didn’t make it any easier when he came around just to bother you, though.
Like right now.
You sat down on a little bench on the deck of the ship and peered out at the water around you, and Nikolai mirthfully approached you and reached out to hand you something. You looked down into his strong hand and saw a little pearl resting in the palm of his hand.
“Look. I found it in one of the oysters we caught.” He said proudly and you gently took the shimmering pearl out of his hand and held it up to the light.
“It’s pretty. What are you gonna do with it?” You asked and placed it back in his hand.
“Well, I was going to give it to you. Because it’s so lovely, it just reminded me of you. Plus, it sparkles like your eyes or something like that. Was that a romantic enough thing to say?” He asked and winked down at you.
You scoffed, as you often did in his presence, and took the pearl from him again, “Oh, please. It was just about as cheesy as it gets, you brat.” You replied and he hummed.
“Well then why are you blushing?” He asked and pointed down at you, wiggling his finger near your face.
You gaped up at him and you brought your hand up to your face to feel your cheeks which were indeed, quite warm and you scowled at him, “I am not blushing!” You protested, which caught the attention of Tamar nearby.
She glanced in your direction and then up at the blonde boy in front of you and she grinned, “Oh yeah. You’re blushing. Hard.” She commented and Nikolai pumped his fist in victory. You stood up from the bench and tucked the pearl away in your pocket before you shook your head and stomped off below deck.
-
The next time the Prince flustered you had to be in front of the Sun Summoner herself, and you couldn’t remember a time where you’d been more lost for words. You stood in his office while he went over some maps with Alina and her friend Mal, who stood awkwardly to the side. You took a guess and figured he did that a lot. Standing off to the side. You were perched on the corner of Nikolai’s desk and you tapped a spot on the map.
“We gotta be careful here. Big rocks, remember?” You pointed out and he wasted no time in making you a mess.
He reached down and grabbed your hand off of the map and raised it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles politely, “Ah yes. Big rocks. Not much bigger than the one I’ll put on your finger one day, though.”
You stared up at him and your jaw almost dropped. He still held your hand in his and you wanted to yank it away and go hide, but half of you wouldn’t allow you to even budge. You let out a breathy, nervous laugh and you shook your head, “Time and place.” You mumbled under your breath and looked away from him but he simply tightened his grip on your hand and grinned.
“We’d make beautiful children too, Alina, don’t you think? Her bone structure and her eyes and my hair and smile?”
The Sun Saint stood there and let out an awkward laugh before she looked to Mal and he cleared his throat, mentioning something or other about the sea whip. You tugged your hand away from Nikolai and looked down at your lap for a long time before you slid off of the desk and you put your hands into your pockets.
“I’m going to head to bed I think. It’s been a very long day.” You squeaked and then without another word, you dashed out of his office and went to stand at your favorite spot at the back of the ship.
You let the brisk night’s air cool your cheeks and you let out a long, frustrated sigh. You hardly thought it was fair that he kept flirting with you, especially when it was just so casual and asinine. No one was on deck at this time of night and you took advantage of that and leaned over the side of the boat to feel the sea spray against your cheeks. You wanted to slap the smug little smile off of Nikolai’s face every time he made you feel so… giddy. You wanted to scream at him and tell him that it wasn’t fair that he unleashed butterflies in your stomach every time he opened up his beautiful mouth. But most of all, you wanted to smack him in the middle of the chest and tell him just how in love with him you were and just how unfair it was that he teased you relentlessly for it.
That was why he did it, right?
You wondered for a moment and then finally shook your head. There was no other explanation. You’d known the boy since you were both just children and he’d always been a shameless little flirt with everyone, especially in his teenage years. It made sense that perhaps this was how he interacted. This was just his personality, everybody knew so… right?
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned around with your hands raised, only to feel waves of relief when you saw it was only Nikolai.
“You scared me.” You commented with a sigh and the boy shrugged and then he let out a laugh, a beautiful sound that brought a smile to your lips.
“Yeah I can tell. You look very menacing with your hands up like that. I almost feared for my life.” He teased and you rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him back before you turned back to the water, silence settling over the two of you.
“So,” Nikolai began and leaned up against the rails next to you, “Is this the part where we kiss? In front of the ocean, under the light of the moon?” He singsonged and sidled up closer to you.
You turned and looked at him with a frown, “You have to stop that.” You said quietly and then bit down on your bottom lip.
“Stop what?” He asked cluelessly.
You studied his face and then you shook your head, “Nikolai, I mean you need to stop messing with me like this. I’m not just every girl. They all swoon for you and they all giggle and blush when you talk to them but for me it’s just… so much more complex.”
He raised his eyebrow curiously as if he didn’t understand what you meant and you let out a long sigh and rubbed your face, already blushing, “Nikolai, I am in love with you. I have been for years, and I probably will be for a long time. And when you sit and flirt with me like this… make me feel special, make me feel so giddy, it makes it even harder for me because that’s how you talk to every girl!” You said, hiding your face in your hands.
There was a long pause in which you could only hear the ocean around you along with the wind, when suddenly the boy next to you let out a loud, amused laugh. Your face turned even redder and you went to walk away before he grabbed onto your arm and he pulled you back to him and grinned down at you.
“Oh, y/n. My sweet, sweet girl. Do you ever hear me say these things to other girls? Really.” He asked and you blinked up at him.
You knew he had a charming demeanor, but come to think of it, he’d never made comments like the ones he made to you to every other girl he ever met. You stared up at him blankly and he laughed again, a beautiful sound that made you want to melt into his arms entirely.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He replied and then he let out a soft sigh, “I don’t mess about with other girls, I don’t tease them relentlessly like I do you. And it’s all for good reason. You’re simply the only girl I have my sights on, and saints are you a slippery little worm. I think I’ve finally got you and then you’re running off and hiding.”
Shock was evident on your face, this much you were sure of, and you shook your head once, “You have got to be kidding me.” Was all you could manage and Nikolai laughed again and he reached down to cup your cheeks.
“My pretty y/n. I’d never joke about such things.” He said, leaning closer to your face.
“Oh for the love of the saints, Nikolai.” You groaned and stood up on your toes to finally greet his lips with your own.
The kiss was met with much eagerness from the Prince and he only pulled you closer to him as he kissed you back with a sweetness unlike anything you’d ever felt. Butterflies fluttered around your stomach and when he finally pulled back, his grin was highlighted by the moon as he stared down at you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world to him.
“I do believe I told you that one day I’d charm you into a kiss.” He pointed out smugly and you grabbed the collar of his shirt and shook your head.
“I think I’m the one that charmed you.” You remarked and pulled him down to where your noses brushed.
“More than you’ll ever know.” He replied softly before he brought another heavenly kiss to your lips.
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov imagine#grishaverse#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone
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reblog if you agree
#nikolai lantsov#shadow and bone#six of crows#crooked kingdom#grishaverse#kaz brekker#king nikolai#nina zenik#prince nikolai#the darkling#nikolai x reader#shadow and bone nikolai#nikolai x you#nikolai x zoya#nikolai duology#nikolai lanstov imagine#zoya x nikolai#alina shadow and bone#grisha netflix#six of crows kaz#shadow and bone memes#six of crows memes#sobachka#zoyalai#zoya nazyanelsky#zoya of the garden#zoya nazyalensky#queen zoya#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai lantsov imagine
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bad luck - nikolai lantsov
summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.
a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy
wc: 5.3k
warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending
At first, you’d thought you were hallucinating.
You couldn’t remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldn’t have exactly surprised you.
Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. You’d imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasn’t a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you weren’t in chains, and reveled in the sound.
And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you.
Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking man—though he hardly appeared old enough to be called a man—a pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didn’t belong in a dingy place such as this.
“Hello, all,” he said pleasantly. “I am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.”
Your grip slackened. “What?”
Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. She’d chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent.
You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought you’d imagined it when he looked away.
“I have no desire to keep you all here against your will,” he said. “Call me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slavers—it doesn’t matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.”
“Are we free?” you asked.
Again, the captain’s expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at you—this time, you knew you hadn’t imagined it.
“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “You’re free.”
You couldn’t help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.
The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. “Now, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we can’t find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.”
Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. “Tamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. I’d like to make a speech.”
She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. You’d been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldn’t shed any tears for them, but you weren’t accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from.
“I’d like to introduce myself to you all.” You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line you’d all formed. The Shu woman from before—Tamar, he called her—stood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they were—at least for now—on your side.
“You can call me Sturmhond,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps you haven’t. I don’t particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.”
The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you weren’t wholly naive.
“But I want to be clear,” the captain said, “this is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.”
Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the others—she removed everyone’s shackles at once.
Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little Palace—Saints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkan—but there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized.
“We didn’t really need the keys,” Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he looked—he should have been in university, not heading operations like this. “I just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamar’s axes are quite terrifying.”
“Who says we want any part of your opportunities?” asked a man from down the line.
“Because I’m allowing you the choice,” the captain said. “Those of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.”
There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again.
Your throat tightened. You ran from them—that was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again.
And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct.
“As for those of you who want revenge,” he tilted his head, “you can earn a place in my crew.”
“Why would we work for you?” a woman from across the brig shouted. “We’ve got our freedom!”
“Because there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,” Sturmhond said. “And because the sea is rather lovely when you’re not a captive.”
“That is my opportunity to you all.” He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. “A chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.”
“Why would we want to work with pirates?” you spoke up. “We have lives to get back to. And half of us aren’t fighters.”
You didn’t know what it was about you that made Sturmhond’s expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you.
“Privateer, actually,” he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. “As I said, it’s your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.”
You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. You’d dealt with too many men like him, but it wasn’t a bother—in three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck.
“Now,” the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, “any questions?”
Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel like getting on the captain’s bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem.
“Wonderful. We’ll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,” he said. “Any of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.” His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. “I doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.”
“Some of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,” Sturmhond continued. “If you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.” He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that.
“I suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.” Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. “I hope you’ve all earned your sea legs.”
He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They must’ve been his first mates—you were immensely glad they weren’t against you, what with his size and her axes.
But as he did, you couldn’t help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just… unnatural. Unsettling.
You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didn’t care if he was unnatural or unsettling—you would be gone in three days.
All you had to do was keep your head down.
-
Sleep wasn’t easy after the day you’d had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot you’d been assigned wasn’t much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress you’d ever felt after what you’d been sleeping on before.
You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.
You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.
“What are you doing here?” you whispered.
“Sturmhond wishes to speak to you,” Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did.
“Why?”
“My job isn’t to ask questions,” Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasn’t familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captain’s quarters for you.
She didn’t follow you in, and you didn’t know whether it was a relief or not.
“Ah. You’re here.” Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. “Drink?”
“You didn’t just invite me here for a nightcap,” you said placidly, “did you?”
“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it would remind you of home.”
You frowned. “You’re Ravkan. Who’s to say I am too?”
“How did you know I was Ravkan?”
“Your accent.”
“Then how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?”
“Maybe I will need a drink,” you said bitterly. “It’s the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.”
Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. “Such harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaver’s ship.”
“Who’s to say I’m the daughter of a duke?” you asked.
He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to keep playing this game?”
You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle.
“An accent gives quite a bit away,” Sturmhond said. “It’s also obvious to anyone that looks at you—and I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,” he looked you up and down, “you carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.”
Your lip curled. “How astute of you.”
“Thank you,” he said with a smile.
“Born and raised in Os Alta,” you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. “And I suppose you’re correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.”
“You wound me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?”
“I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, captain.”
“Sturmhond,” he said.
Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. “I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, Sturmhond.”
“It isn’t,” he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, “it’s an opportunity. I’m just curious of what drove your choice.”
You crossed your arms. “Strange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.”
“Privateer,” Sturmhond corrected, “and you’re no longer a prisoner.”
“My point still stands,” you said wryly.
“Is it wrong of me to be curious?” he asked.
“It’s pointless,” you said. “And if you’re done with your little interrogation, I’d like to get back to sleep.”
“I’m not here to be your enemy.” He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. “Surely you understand that.”
“I understand it perfectly well,” you said. “I just don’t see why you care.”
“Fine,” he amended, “I’ll let you be. Just one more question.” Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. “Why did you run?”
You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t waver. “I thought my question was quite clear.”
You picked up the cup he’d poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throat—your tolerance never was all that—but it didn’t make much difference with the scowl already on your face.
“You don’t get to ask me questions, pirate.”
“Privateer,” you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out.
-
Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda.
He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks.
“Seriously?” you asked. “Did he not get my message clearly enough last night?”
She shrugged. “He just asked to see you again. I don’t know why.”
You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. “Fine. Let’s go.”
You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.
“What are you playing at?” you demanded.
“Good evening to you as well,” he said. “How did you sleep?”
“What are you playing at,” you repeated flatly.
“I’m not playing at anything,” he said. “Is it a crime to enjoy your company?”
Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. “If you’re after what I—”
“I’m not after anything,” he assured with a frown, “and certainly not what you’re thinking.”
His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.
“…Good,” you said after a moment. “But I still don’t understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.”
“Because I know you,” he said. “You may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.”
“What,” you said wryly, “do you want my advice on how best to rob them?”
“Of course not,” Sturmhond said. “I wouldn’t need your advice for that.”
You huffed a laugh. “So what do you want?”
“I’ve been at sea for quite some time,” he said, “and you’ve only just left Ravka. I’d very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.”
“You assume I have any.”
“I assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsov’s betrothed would have some,” Sturmhond replied smoothly.
Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression.
He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”
You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.
“Fine,” you said. “You’ve got me. I’m the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?”
“Not at all.” Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glass—brandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. “I want your knowledge.”
“My being betrothed to Nikolai is why I don’t know as much as you think,” you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. “Nikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.”
“Disappeared?”
You nodded. “He was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,” your lips curled in a disdainful smile, “he up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I haven’t heard a word from Nikolai since.”
Sturmhond frowned. “My deepest apologies.”
You shrugged. “He made his choice. Apparently he’s in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope he’s still alive.” You huffed a laugh. “I cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.”
“I’m sure he is still alive,” Sturmhond said. “And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you.”
“How kind of you,” you said dryly.
He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I ran from my family and my fate, and that’s why I ended up here. I don’t think I can go back just yet.”
“And what fate did you run from?” Sturmhond asked.
“A marriage I didn’t want,” you said plainly.
“As opposed to the marriage you did want.”
“Are we done here?” you asked. “Because I don’t think you need to know more of my personal life.”
Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. “Yes. But I’d like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.”
“You’re not going to change my mind,” you said.
“And I don’t intend to. There’s just one last thing I wish to share with you.”
“And you can’t do that now?” you asked wryly.
“Patience is a virtue, darling.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He held up his hands. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You’re very strange for a pirate,” you said.
“I’m quite normal for a privateer,” Sturmhond said.
You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. “Enjoy the rest of your night, privateer.”
You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldn’t shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door.
“How long have you been part of his crew?”
“A few years,” she said.
“Do you ever get used to him?”
Her lips quirked into a smile. “No.”
You sighed as the two of you started to walk. “What a surprise.”
-
You were at Sturmhond’s door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadn’t come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly weren’t going to refuse her.
As usual, you didn’t bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly.
“You actually came,” he said.
“Consider me intrigued,” you said. “I couldn’t just walk off and never know what you wanted to ‘share with me’.”
The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. “You’re just as fiery as I remember.”
“We just met,” you said dryly.
“On the contrary.” Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. “You spent the other day describing our lost time together.”
“I’m…” you blinked and shook your head. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m Nikolai Lantsov,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me say all my titles, though.”
For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief.
“Is that what this is? You consider me a fool?”
“On the contrary,” he repeated. “It is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.” He offered a wry smile. “And because you don’t hate me the way you should.”
“You cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,” you said. “Anyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?”
“It sounds absurd when you put it like that,” Sturmhond said with a frown.
“Because it is absurd,” you enunciated. “I actually thank you for this, because now I know I’m making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.”
You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. “Please move. I’d like to leave.”
“He speaks the truth,” Tamar said. “I promise you. He’s Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. ”
You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. “What?”
“Nikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,” he said. “No one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.”
“Then change him back,” you said, looking back at Tamar. “Get your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.”
“They are not lies,” she insisted. “And I’m not the best tailor.”
“You’re both Grisha,” you said flatly.
“Heartrenders,” Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. “My most trusted crew. Come on, Tamar— I believe in you. Work your magic.”
She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit you’d been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didn’t take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose.
He… he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from him—or at least a mirror image of him—after so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didn’t have him anymore.
“That doesn’t mean much,” you finally said, glancing away. “If you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.”
“You overestimate my tailoring abilities,” Tamar said dryly.
“I still don’t trust it,” you said, and you started again for the door.
“When we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,” he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. “You scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the waters—you still have the scar on your ankle.”
You turned around. “How do you know that?”
“My father held a party and your family attended,” he continued. “We were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parents’ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.” He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so many pastries in my life.”
A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadn’t thought of that party in years.
“And when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress you—I only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.”
“I can’t believe you remember that,” you murmured.
“And…” he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. “I still have this.”
Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light.
Your engagement rings still matched perfectly.
Nikolai’s smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. “And you still have yours.”
“Of course I do,” you said. “It was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.”
“I’m glad you went through it, then.”
“It really is you,” you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. “I— I just don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?”
“Privateer,” he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. “Could you give us a moment alone?”
She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past.
“I do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second son—a bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.”
“I appreciated Prince Nikolai,” you said. “I appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.”
“I know,” Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. “If there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because it’s true—I have not forgotten you. I never did.”
“Then why go through all of this with me?” you asked. “Why annoy me into spending time with you?”
“Because I’ve always been quite good at annoying you,” Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. “And because… I didn’t know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was true—I did leave you, and I haven’t said a word to you since. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didn’t want to force myself back into your life.” He managed another small smile. “Fortunately for me, you did not hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Nikolai,” you murmured. “I— I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.”
“Even more fortunate for me,” he said softly.
“So why didn’t you come back?” you asked.
“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. “You talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didn’t want to force you into a life with me. If I had known you—” he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lips— “if I had known you loved me, I don’t know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.”
“You are the reason I was here,” you said. “My parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in you—a marriage my parents wanted couldn’t have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.”
“A marriage you didn’t want,” he echoed, his eyes soft.
You nodded. “They did all the work behind the scenes—I was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch banker’s son. And I just… couldn’t face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the world—” you gestured lazily— “I ended up here.”
“Then I suppose it’s only fair that I ended up rescuing you,” Nikolai said.
“I thought this wasn’t a rescue,” you said wryly.
He chuckled and shook his head. “No. It’s still an opportunity— one I think you’ll like much more.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I plan to go back and take the throne someday,” Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. “But I don’t want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,” he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something you’d sorely missed, “will you do me the honor of sailing by my side?”
“I’m not a sailor,” you said with a breathy laugh.
“I can teach you,” he said eagerly. “I can teach you everything I know until you’re a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything I’ve missed while being at sea—all the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.”
Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more.
“How can I refuse?”
Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the first one you’d shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something new—the promise that he wouldn’t let you go like he did before.
You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time.
Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once.
“And if it wasn’t clear,” Nikolai murmured between kisses, “I never stopped loving you for one moment.”
You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. “You wear too many clothes.”
“Then fix it.” His voice was sultry in your ear and you didn’t know how you went seven years without him.
You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov angst#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone fic#grishaverse x reader#sadie writes
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