#nikolai lantsov fic
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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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Nine Long Years - Part 7/?
Nikolai Lantsov x Rietveld!reader, Kaz Brekker x sister!Rietveld!reader (platonic)
Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 6
Synopsis: After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.
Author's Note: Well... long time no see. I'm happy to finally share this part. it's been several months in the works since I have been very busy with college. So thank you to all who have stuck around. This part takes place around the start of the Ruin and Rising book, and is a fair bit shorter than the last few parts have been (btw I can't believe I've written over 40k words for this series) but I hope you all like it. I went a bit easier with the angst than I expected by giving these two a slight break
Warnings: mentions of death, angst and fluff, mentions of sickness, injury, panic attacks, firepox. If I'm missing something pls lmk
Word Count: 3,570
……….
SIXTH YEAR
Genya's handiwork stung. Though she was fixing your injuries, the nature of her Corporalki abilities was that she had to undo your injuries in a similar process as their infliction. You tried not to complain as she treated your fractured and cut shoulder, but you were still swallowing back a scream. Tamar ran a soothing hand along your head as she and Tolya held you down.
"Hold still for me." You could vaguely hear Genya say.
You gave a slight nod, all you could manage at the moment. The pain was excruciating. There was fire all along your shoulder blade and up and over to the corner of your collarbone where the Darlking's nichevo'ya had clawed at you. Like sticking a red hot iron to flesh. You were biting down so hard on the handle of Tamar's axe that you thought you might break a tooth. The Tailor's hands hovered over your shoulder and your body jolted but Tolya tightened his grip.
Everything was dark. It never occurred to you how musty and dank an underground tunnel system would be. You'd never considered a place like this could even exist. But here you were, below ground, in the darkest, dankest little "room" you'd ever been in. And no amount of candles or incense trays staved your new fear of the dark.
When you closed your eyes, you could see Nikolai. The way his eyes frantically found yours across the room. How he screamed when his brother was torn apart by the Darkling's shadow creatures. The silent nod of understanding as you guarded Alina while he helped his parents escape.
You wondered where he was now. With any luck, Nikolai escaped on the Kingfisher. He was safe and sound and able to fight the war while Alina and the rest of you were all underground. He had to be safe. Saints above and below, by the grace of Ghezen, and on the holiness of even the Fjerdan god, he had to be safe.
Because if he wasn't, you simply wouldn't know what to do.
You felt the pain end, and you glanced back at the trio of corporalki behind you.
"There," Genya spoke softly, easing her hands away from your shoulder. "This is about all I can do. The scarring doesn't go away completely."
Her eyes dropped in shame, one of the scars on her cheek pulling as she frowned slightly. Tamar and Tolya had released you, and you sat up. You gently took Genya's hand, giving her a grateful smile.
"You've healed me to full strength, and that's all that matters," you said kindly. "Thank you."
She smiled back at you.
……….
Time blurred together underground. You were still guarding Alina, and you'd constantly accompany her through the elaborate tunnels. You didn't trust the Apparat running this little underground cult. He had come to Alina's aid, that was true enough. But there was no doubt in your mind that the snivelly, power-hungry little man had some ulterior motive. Nikolai had told you about him many years ago while at sea.
"The religious counsel to my father is a weasel of a fellow. That man would bite the head off a live snake if it meant he would gain control of a single chapel, let alone the whole of Ravka," Nikolai said of the Apparat.
You could only hope Alina wasn't the snake in this case.
You worried for your sun summoner. It was no wonder that you all looked worn after your fight with the Darkling, but most of you had healed up despite your weariness. Yet Alina didn't seem to recover. She had lost use of her summoning in the past few months. It was difficult to say if that was because you were so far away from the sun, or because of the strain from her last fight with the Darkling; either way, you'd never seen her look so pale and sickly.
"It doesn't seem like anything helps her," Mal worriedly whispered to you one evening as you two ate off to the side of the usual huddle your group maintained. "Not water, or food, or any sort of activity."
"She probably just needs sun," you said, trying to ease his mind. "Once we figure out how to escape this place, we'll get her above ground and she'll be better."
"What if that's not all? When she fought the Darkling--"
"Don't think on it, Oretsev." You cut him off. "That's no way to be, with your worrying. We'll get her out, and she'll get better. That's it."
Mal let out a long sigh and went back to eating.
Your words had carried conviction. You had no idea how your group would escape, but you didn't mention that. It was all you could do to lift your friends' spirits, even though you were as unsettled as you'd felt since you were a girl in a Ketterdam harbour.
In the evenings, you roomed with Tamar and Tolya. Often sleeping between them, their breathing--and Tolya's snoring--reminded you that you were alive and somehow safe, no matter how temporary.
But even so, the dank underground smelled like death. It was like you were back on the cobbles of Ketterdam, seeing your brothers in every corner of every dark cavern in this place. They haunted you, even here. And, with no one to distract you from them, no one to hold you and reassure you that you weren't at fault for their sickness, their ghosts dogged you all hours of the day.
There were a few children underground, and sometimes when they'd cry you could just feel the sobs your baby brother cried against your shoulder when Da had passed away. You could taste the sick you emptied into the harbour after you lost your brothers.
It occurred to you that maybe this was your lot in life; maybe you were just meant to be haunted. You were plagued, for lack of a better word.
You couldn't count how many times a day your mind strayed to Nikolai. Worries or memories would surface, and you were unable to stave them just as you couldn't stave thoughts of your family. Truthfully, you didn't want to keep them at bay anymore. If you could die tomorrow and join your brothers, you would rather die with Nikolai in your thoughts than with nothing but fear and grief dogging your brain.
The anger you'd harboured for Nikolai had vanished. Your grudge seemed so insignificant now that you were separated like this. Everything seemed insignificant when you were trapped in a tomb.
At night the only reprieve you had from all the ghosts was when you'd finally fall asleep, your fingers clutching Nikolai's ring on the chain around your neck.
……….
When you and your friends finally surfaced again, it was a mad dash escape from that weasel and his cult.
You were running through some forest with them. You had no idea where you surfaced, all you knew was that it wasn't just the Aparat's cult after you, but a sect of Vasily's old Grisha-hating First Army. The soldiers were hot on your tails as you dashed through the trees. Tolya and Tamar were on your right, Genya was to your left, and Alina and Mal were slightly ahead of you. Shots were being fired behind you, and you weaved and ducked to avoid bullets as you ran aimlessly. Some of the Grisha you were travelling with used their skills to take on those in pursuit of you, but there were too many of them.
Just when it felt as though you would never make it out of this forest and away from the soldiers, you heard a familiar shouting of command. Repeat revolvers starting gunning from above, and you grabbed Genya and ducked to the side as the Kingfisher flew overhead, taking out your remaining foes.
It was all a blur as the flying ship landed. Your mind was whirring as Genya helped you to your feet, guiding you to the ship. You watched the others climb aboard, then you took your turn as well. As you clutched the wooden rails, you remembered the last time you'd been on this vessel, how you fell asleep below deck, curled up against Nikolai.
Nikolai.
As soon as he reentered your mind, your head was whipping around to catch sight of him, for surely he was here. It didn't take you long to hone in on him. He was speaking with Mal, grim expressions on both of their faces. Alina was there too, guzzling down a water flask; she looked automatically healthier now that she was out of the dirt and into the sun, but still not at full strength. Your eyes went to Nikolai again, and he seemed to be glancing around as well. When his eyes locked on yours, you swore you almost started to cry. The tension in his brow loosened, his strong shoulders relaxing for a second before he quickly excused himself from Mal and Alina. He strode directly over to you, bracing you in a hug. You clutched him back, face bundled in his chest as he gripped you so tightly.
There was a long moment in his arms as you embraced, but you both needed it. You'd gone months without knowing if each other were alive, much less alright.
"Thank every Saint that ever was," Nikolai chuckled in relief as he held you. He leaned back, bracing your arms. He noticed the rip in your jacket where the nichevo’ya had cut up your shoulder in the chapel. While the cult was able to provide a new shirt and trousers for you, there'd been no replacement jacket for you underground. "That's no good. Here."
He shed his military coat and slung it over you. He dusted off the sleeves as you just stood there watching him. You'd almost forgotten how warm his hazel eyes were.
"Are you alright?" He whispered, his hands still holding to your forearms almost as if reminding himself that you were really there in front of him.
There was no way to tell him about your time underground, about the scar on your shoulder and the feeling that maybe your whole life was just haunted. It took everything in you to reply with hope.
"Better now," you whispered back, nodding softly.
He smiled regretfully at you. You knew him well enough to know that he had something to say, but you weren't going to pressure it out of him. The last time you'd seen him you were still upset with him over his engagement–something that felt inconsequential now. Months away from him had turned your anger to dust, and now you just wanted to wipe clean and move on as best as you could--with or without him.
Nikolai looked at you for a moment, then hugged you again. He whispered something in Kerch, an old saying that you could remember your Ma and Da saying to one another when you were younger and your world was a farm and a family that was whole.
"My soul knows no richer than yours," he muttered into your ear, speaking your native tongue in his pretty lilt.
You teared up slightly. Your hand made a weak fist against his chest as you replied in Kerch. "You're infuriating."
"I know."
He cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his palm, staring at his soft hazel eyes.
"Go below deck, and I'll join you in a moment, alright?" He whispered kindly.
You nodded and made your way below. It took Nikolai longer than expected to join. There were others below deck, a few injured Grisha and Nikolai's First Army soldiers being tended to. You watched bones being reset, blood being transferred, and breathing assisted. You flinched as one of the soldiers coughed up blood, making a hauntingly familiar noise. Just as you looked away for fear of nausea, a hand grabbed yours. Nikolai had sat down beside you, and he gave your hand a comforting squeeze.
He let you lean into his side as the two of you sat there in silence.
……….
The Kingfisher flew for nearly a half hour more, but Nikolai stayed with you below deck until they had to dock the flying ship. When you arrived at the Spinning Wheel, there were lots of Grisha-friendly First Army there to greet everyone. The rescued were all led to different rooms, and as someone approached you to get you settled, Nikolai murmured something to them. They nodded and helped you through the winding hallways. You were given a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, and you wondered what you'd done to earn a private space like this. Surely many people at the Spinning Wheel had to share rooms.
Once you were alone, you shed your dank, dirt-covered cult clothes and discarded them in the bedroom while you ran a bath for yourself.
As you sank into the warm water you let your mind settle. It felt odd to feel safe again. After your time below ground, you didn’t know when you’d feel this way again, but you were grateful it was now.
There was a soft knock on the bathroom door, and you heard Nikolai's voice.
“I took your clothes to the washers and brought you clean trousers and a shirt. I'll leave them just outside the door here for when you're finished your bath," he said kindly.
"Thank you," you called out, your voice slightly unsteady.
The thought of Nikolai on the other side of the door made your heart race. There was something about the moment that felt distinctly like your first trip to West Ravka back when you began to know him more as Nikolai than Sturmhond. The separation by only a door felt as excruciating as it used to feel watching him get into bed beside you without being able to reach for him. Prudence and politeness governed you both so strictly back them, and it had taken reign once again.
You shut your eyes and tried to relax some more in the bath, but your peace had shattered at the thought of Nikolai being so near yet so out of your reach.
You huffed to yourself as you got out of the bath and dried off. You took the clothes Nikolai had left for you and dressed yourself. The layers of soft white linen were slightly thin, but certainly not unappreciated. After months in the same clothes that you were rarely allowed to wash, you were overdue for something clean and fresh.
Without realizing it, your feet carried you to your bedroom door. It wasn't as though you knew where anything was in this place, but you twisted the knob and stepped into the hallway anyways. You made it two steps before you realized he was there, leaning against the wall beside your door.
"Hi," he said, blushing slightly.
You nodded at him. "Hi."
"Can we talk?" He asked, his eyes earnest.
You nodded again, stepping back into your room and letting him follow.
There were no other chairs or seating in the room, so you sat on the edge of your bed.
Nikolai sat a respectable distance beside you. "I wanted to tell you that--what's this?"
His eyes were on your shirt's wide collar, where the edge of your shoulder scar peeked out. You hooked a finger into your collar, pulling it to show a bit more of the scar as you angled your back to him too.
"Oh… it's from the nichevo’ya. One just barely nicked my shoulder as we first escaped into the tunnels." You felt a slight sting as he gently grazed his thumb along it. You relished his touch and the reminder that he was alive and with you so much so that you didn't even mind the sting. "Genya says it's permanent."
"I should have been there," he murmured.
You shook your head, turning back to look at him. "No, I'm glad you weren't. You needed to be above ground."
"I should have been with you." His eyes had that earnest look crossed with slight guilt.
"You had to get your parents to safety and rally what was left of the First Army, Nikolai."
"I wanted to be with you." He said as he held your hand, interlocking your fingers. "You're the woman I love, and I thought of you every second of every day I wasn't with you. Saints, I need you more than I need air."
You leaned closer to him, pressing your forehead against his collarbone. It wasn't meant in any romantic way, more just as a silent way to express that you loved him too, that you cared deeply for him. He brought his one arm around your shoulder as the other still held your hand.
"That's why I'm not going through with it," he said, and you could feel the rumble of his words against your head.
"With what?" You whispered.
"The engagement with Alina."
You leaned back slightly to look in his eyes. "What?"
He thumbed along your cheek. "Once the war is won, Alina and I will not be getting married. She and I have spoken already."
"But what about the unification of Ravka and the first and second army?"
"That can happen some other way." He looked deeply into your eyes. "But once we've won this war, I only want one thing."
You sighed and gave him a sad smile. "Niko–"
"Will you marry me?"
Your breath caught in your chest.
There was a time you thought he would ask you this, before you landed in Ravka more permanently, before you got launched into this war against the Darkling. But you knew he still had his ambitions.
"Is it because your brother's dead? Because you're guaranteed to be king now?" You asked.
He sighed and shook his head. It was hard to tell if he'd expected any apprehension from you. "It's because I love you. More than anything else I could ever think of. When I first arrived at the Spinning Wheel, everyone else whined about the cold of the mountains or the fact that they missed tea service and their evening kvas, but all I missed was you." He gently squeezed your hand. "Every day I spent not knowing if you were safe, if you were alive… I could barely sleep, barely eat… You're all I could ever want."
The look in his eyes was reminiscent of his soft yet resolute stare when he’d placed that crown on your head. It felt like a lifetime ago that he whispered honey in your ears and you listened without a shred of apprehension. But right now this wasn’t honey. This was raw. This was real. This was Nikolai in a state of total resolve. And you knew you wouldn’t be made a fool if you accepted him.
"I am all you want?" you whispered in response, your lips curling upwards slightly.
"You are. I want to spend my life with you," he smiled. "Will you marry me?"
“Yes." You nodded, a full smile forming on your lips. “I'll marry you. Of course I will.”
Nikolai broke into a grin. He cupped your cheeks and kept grinning at you, his eyes locked with yours. “Saints, I love you more than anything.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, then dipped down to capture your lips.
It was the first you’d kissed him in months and months. Truly, you hadn’t felt his lips on yours since before you’d crossed the fold. It ignited a forgotten hunger in you, and you kissed him back with a deep longing.
“I missed you,” he murmured as you pulled back for a moment. You noticed tears in his eyes. “I was so stupid, and I’m sorry for how I treated you. I never should have proposed to Alina, or made you feel like I only wanted you in secret. I want you, I’m proud to want you, and I never want my love for you to be a secret. I want you as my queen–my truest companion, as you have always been. I just… I want you.”
You kissed him again, wrapping your arms around him. You leaned so far against him that he rested his back against the headboard, bringing you with him. You missed the closeness with him, the intimacy of being pressed into his body as you kissed. Your fingers threaded into his golden hair as you sighed into his soft lips.
“Do you forgive me?” He whispered and you took in a breath.
Your fingers idly traced the skin right above his shirt collar. “I’ll forgive you once you get me a ring and make it official.”
“I gave you a ring years ago, my dear.” His finger went to the chain around your neck, and he pulled it loose from under your shirt, making his old silver ring dangle between you. “One could argue that we’ve been engaged all this time.”
“Then one could also argue that you were most definitely cheating on your fiance when you proposed to someone else,” you smirked at him.
“Ouch. I deserved that,” he chuckled.
He cupped your face again, his palms warm against your skin.
“I’ll get you a new ring. Something regal and fit for the most beautiful queen Ravka will ever know, moi tsaritsa.”
You smiled and leaned down to kiss him again. “Good.”
..........
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment on this new part--I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)
Masterlist
Taglist: I will reblog this part with the tags because there's too many of you to tag and tumblr won't let me do it all at once :)
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov fic#grishaverse fanfic#nine long years
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"Sea shanties" - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader
[mentions of a minor injury and blood]
SUMMARY: Alina catches Sturmhond in a surprising moment of weakness when he's quietly watching you sing to yourself and fix the net.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2.7k
>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<
☽ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ☾
The cold wind nips at your exposed skin and part of you beckons you to return under the deck to finish sewing the net back together. But you dread returning among the sailors: despite truly being a lovely bunch, their constant chattering and liveliness can wear you out. The berths and cabins are warm, yes, but the sea is silent, predictable and, most of all, doesn’t expect engagement. As long as you let her be, she leaves you alone in return. Here, where cold wind tugs at your clothes and saltwater spray your face, you can finally take a deep breath and relax your tense shoulders. Stitching the nets is a very monotone, maybe even boring, activity but it’s exactly what you need. Your hands fix the knots on their own, guided by experience, allowing your mind to let go of duties and worries, to slip away into much more pleasant thoughts.
“I’ll wander, weep and moan. All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home,” you sing barely above a whisper. Truthfully, you can’t recall where you learned the song. It’s as if you’ve always known it, the melody haunting you whenever you’re getting lost in thought.
Alina lets out a sigh of relief when she finally finds Sturmhond. For a moment she was really considering whether he could snap his fingers and vanish. He’s leaning against the doorframe but his broad shoulders still block most of the view of the deck. Sturmhond is completely oblivious to her presence and Alina has a bit too much spite in her to let the opportunity go. She quietly approaches him, harbouring a wicked hope that maybe she can scare him and single-handedly rub away that smug smirk of his.
She stops a pace or two behind him, taking in a deep breath to yell right into his ear. "Sturmhond, I-"
But the privateer is quick to silence her:
"Keep your voice down!" he hisses at Alina.
The Sun Summoner frowns at the privateer. Not only did she not scare him but also seems to be interrupting something. And considering his wish to keep things quiet, Sturmhond is doing something he knows he shouldn’t. She stares at him through half-closed eyes, beaming with suspicion, when she hears a faint hum distracting her from constructing some passive-aggressive remark. Alina recognizes your voice, although it sounds a lot softer than what she’s used to. Being the boatswain, you’re mostly heard yelling out orders for the maintenance crew that you’re watching over; forcing seafarers to tie perfect knots, no matter how many tries it takes them and raising Hell for the smallest error in repairing sails. Even if you might come off as harsh, credit is due as Volkvolny’s sails and equipment are kept impeccable. Your discipline has definitely played a significant part in Sturmhond’s successful betrayal of the Black General.
Listening in, over the howling wind and crashing waves, Alina and Nikolai eavesdrop on the sombre song you’re singing quietly to yourself — a story of a woman mourning her lover who never returned from the sea. Despite the heaviness of the words leaving your mouth, your voice is rid of dread as though such a woeful story is nowhere near relatable to you. Alina doesn’t notice that detail but Sturmhond surely does. In fact, it brings him a sense of relief: after all, how could he compete with a dead man for your love?
A mischievous smile creeps onto Alina’s face as she’s looking between you and Sturmhond. As far as she can tell, you’re completely oblivious to the small audience watching you go about your duties. The sailor, however, is unable to control his soft expression and that lovesick, mellow look in his eyes. To be honest, Sturmhond looks so removed from reality, he might actually be unaware that there are more people in the world than just him and you.
“So, genius privateer Sturmhond, the fright of the sea is in love with the boatswain,” Alina whispers, barely holding in an impish snicker, “but instead of his usual bravado he cowers away, settling for watching her from afar like a creep.”
He seems to ponder her words for a moment, nodding his head ever so slightly. “That is a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?” he asks. Nikolai appears to be well aware of his affliction but rendered powerless in the face of his heart’s desire, he can only accept the state of things.
“I wanted to say pathetic but either way works.”
Sturmhond looks at Alina out of the corner of his eye but only for a moment, unwilling to waste any more time not admiring you. “Wouldn’t it be more pathetic to be the best privateer in all of Ravka’s history but not know love?”
Alina clenches her fists. She puckers her lips, suddenly feeling hot as blood rushes to her face. Saints have mercy - he’s right. The sole act of seeing eye to eye with the blond man isn’t as terrible as the act of admitting it and stroking his ego. “I hate to say it but I agree,” she grits through her teeth.
Nikolai notices her discomfort. He doesn’t hide a certain satisfaction in the effect he has on her - it’s amusing to see her paper mache confidence falter, although he is painfully aware that this will prove problematic later on. “Oh my, I might think you actually tolerate me.”
She forces herself into a contemptuous scowl - it’s a little overdone to be considered natural. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Alina dismisses him.
“You know, I might be an incredible captain and all but without her…” Sturmhond shakes his head. His eyes follow your barely noticeable movements as you weave the net back together. “This whole ship would have already sunk.”
But she doesn’t believe him - not entirely. If she is to believe Tamar, and Alina doesn’t have much reason not to, Sturmhond chose Volkvolny despite having more captain-worthy vessels available. “Somehow, I don’t believe you’d allow that.”
“Right. If she wasn’t on this ship, I wouldn’t be either.”
Alina almost comes to the conclusion that you’re the sole reason he chose Volkvolny to be his flagship but she mostly dismisses that thought - Sturmhond may be doting but he’s far from completely losing his mind. He simply doesn’t give the impression of someone who’d shuffle his life around just to be able to creep on his boatswain. Little did she know at the time but the strangeness and dread the future holds is going to prove her wrong.
Their conversation is halted when one of the sailors on night watch passes by them. Alina recognizes him by the burn mark spreading across the right side of his face. Tolya called him ‘Marquis’. His long, blond hair sway in the cold wind. As he’s carrying a heavy crate from starboard to port, he’s quietly singing along to your song with certain carelessness as though he’s not entirely aware he’s doing it:
“My heart is pierced by Cupid, I disdain all glittering gold. There is nothing can console me-”
Alina yawns. She’s had a long, exciting day and tomorrow is not going to be any easier, that she’s sure of. Whatever she wants to tell Sturmhond will have to wait until dawn when the captain wriggles free of his heart’s restless desires. Even though at first she’s annoyed that she has to wait because Sturmhond decided to play a lovesick teenager, she quickly finds it may be for the best: an in-depth discussion will surely erupt between the two of them and doing so when the moon is high just doesn’t seem like the best idea. Aside from that, she can really use a few more hours of sleep.
The Sun Summoner murmurs something resembling ‘Goodnight’ to Sturmhond and turns around to go back to the room she shares with Tamar, when a great wave shakes the ship, throwing her against a wooden wall. Despite the impact not being exceptionally painful to her, she’s sore anyway, the sound of it carried quite well.
Hearing a thud, you look up out of reflex. Glancing around the deck, your watchful eyes stop on Sturmhond, who’s staring back at you. The privateer gives the impression that you’ve just become privy to a side of him he’s not so keen on showing. Perhaps ‘side’ doesn’t quite mirror the idea. ‘Layer’ seems more fitting. It’s as though he dropped the facade of quick wit and evasive answers, only to show the exhaustion of a man carrying the world on his shoulders for a day too long. Despite the silence and distance between you, this staring feels intimate; both of you are showing something raw to one another in the gullible hope that the other will keep it secret.
He appears different, more calm than smug, than he does during the day, although still beautiful enough to make you flustered. Truly, he looks like he breaks the hearts of naive girls for a living. Despite that, as well as your experience with sailors in general, you found yourself craving his attention. Whether it’s intentional or not, Sturmhond has the ability to make people feel seen and their efforts acknowledged. Considering that establishing your position among sea dogs as a woman is a real challenge, maybe it was your hurt ego that clawed at any possibility or delusion of your exceptionalism. And maybe the privateer never intended for you to be hopelessly in love with him. Sure, the two of you have flirted back and forth but you never assumed it means as much to him as it does to you. It’s just the way he is, right?
A sharp, stinging pain in your finger makes you yelp. Discarding fantasies about the blond man in an awful frock coat, you look at your sore hand, now noticing a drop of crimson slowly rolling down your skin.
“Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself.
You put the bleeding finger against your lips. It’s a small cut, it shouldn’t bleed longer than a minute or two and then you can get back to-
“Are you alright?”
Sturmhond’s worried tone elicits mixed but engaging feelings from you. On one hand, you’re giddy at any crumb of attention he gives you. On the other hand, you just failed at the second easiest maintenance job a ship can have - one Hell of a way to make a good impression on the captain that always seems to fall on four paws.
“Yeah, just pricked my finger with a needle fixing the net. Nothing fatal.”
“Why are you doing this anyway? You’re a boatswain. This is a deckhand’s job,” he says as he grabs the net from your hands and tosses it aside.
“Believe it or not but I actually enjoy this. It’s peaceful, helps me get my mind off of things.”
He gives you a cocky half-grin. “Pricking your finger is just a tasteful addition, I presume?”
“Oh, you know, just trying to enrich things,” you joke back.
Sturmhond lets out a quiet, resigned sigh. Of course, you told everyone to go to sleep and finished the odd jobs yourself. “Have Tamar look at this,” he says in a soft voice. Despite the suddenly mild demeanour, his smug expression stays in place. “I’ll get someone else to finish.”
“Alright, captain,” you reluctantly agree. “But can it wait a few minutes? I like it here.”
Your gaze returns to the sapphire waves and black firmament, the line of horizon barely distinguishable between them. To your own surprise, Sturmhond sits down next to you on a barrel. “Just a few,” he says insincerely. You may not know it but he’s willing to sit there with you for much longer than a few minutes.
Volkvolny bobs on the waves, headed somewhere in the South-East direction. Cold water sprays on your face and clothes but you don’t mind it. It’s quite refreshing. Only now do you notice how quiet the ship is. Most of the crew must already be asleep, revelling in the few hours of rest they have until dawn. The thought of sleeping sailors makes you aware of your own exhaustion, both physical and mental.
You barely stifle a yawn. Too tired to think twice, you lay your head against Sturmhond’s shoulder. He doesn’t shy away, quite the contrary - he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to his torso ever so slightly. He smells like expensive, imported cologne and seaweed. The fragrance is hardly likable but you’ve grown to earn some masochistic pleasure from it simply because it belongs to him. The blue frock coat he’s wearing feels nice against your skin.
“Why do you always sing that song?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.
“I always sing or hum doing manual jobs. It’s a habit I can’t kill,” you answer quietly. It’s hard to keep your eyes open and you can hear your words starting to slur. “I grew up in Novokribirsk. I know a lot of shanties.”
“Know anything happier than mourning a sailor?”
“Hardly,” you let out a tired chuckle. “Somehow, sailors have an aversion to happy songs. There’s one you might like.” You clear your throat, trying to recall the song from your cloudy, tired memories. “I’m a broken man on the Os Kervo pier, the last of Ravka’s privateers.”
Sturmhond furrows his eyebrows and he shakes his head in disapproval. “No, it’s still depressing.” Whether he means to or not, his finger is gently brushing circles against your arm.
“Alright, another one, um… Oh! Don’t haul on the ropes, don’t climb up the mast. If you see a sailing ship, it might be your last.”
“Ominous and tedious. I’m actually surprised you can put both in one song.”
To Sturmhond’s dissatisfaction, you pull away from him. Still, the distance between you is considerably small and you feel each other’s breaths on your skin. With half-lidded eyes out of exhaustion, you give him a wide smile. His breath shakes in his chest.
“You know, you might be the most optimistic sailor I’ve ever met,” you confess.
He could kiss you right now. Saints only know how much he wants to. If the odds are in his favour, and his vanity would like to think they are, you might even kiss him back. Or at least not slap him. Would your lips feel soft and warm against his? Would you taste of saltwater and rye bread like he always imagines? Would you giggle nervously after? In that specific way that makes him forget to breathe?
But Sturmhond can only hope your tired mind can’t compute his nervousness. “Does that title come with a prize?”
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Is being the most optimistic sailor truly worth such honour?” he says in an overly dramatic tone. He jokingly puts his hand on his chest. “Are you not underestimating your presence, my lady?”
“You get extra credit because I like you. A lot.”
Sturmhond swallows nervously. Since when does he get nervous around women? For a moment you’re just staring at each other again. The desire to push his lips against yours is back flooding his mind, now stronger and more desperate than before. The first chance might have been a coincidence but the second… He slowly leans in, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. But you look just as lovely as you did in the morning. His nose almost brushes yours and-
“I might have a happy one,” you suddenly speak up. You look back at the sea, furrowing your eyebrows in deep thought. “Saints, how did it go?” you whisper to yourself. “Prick your finger, it is done. Roll her out and spread her wings, the time has come for better things.”
Having mastered self-control, Sturmhond doesn’t make his disappointment visible. The third time’s the charm, right? “First one that doesn’t make me want to drown myself.” The bitterness in his voice is almost inaudible but you’re too tired to notice.
“I’ll sing you the whole thing but that has to wait until morning, alright?”
“I’m holding you to that.”
His heart quickens its beat when you lay your head back on his shoulder. He should probably tell you to go back to your berth and get some sleep but maybe it can wait a few minutes? He likes it here.
#shadow and bone#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone x reader#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov x reader#sturmhond#sturmhond fanfiction#nikolai lanstov#shadow and bone netflix#sturmhond x reader#sturmhond x you#sturmhond imagine#nikolai lantsov my beloved#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone x you
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Fireworks: Nikolai Lantsov x reader
Christmas bingo day 21: blanket
"Thought I'd find you here "
"Hm. What gave me away?" Y/n turned her head towards him and smirked.
"Really?" Nikolai raised an eyebrow, slightly amused by her antics.
"Right." The light chuckle coming form him sound like an invitation to join her and prince was more than willing to plump on the ground next to her.
She was too obvious. Once everyone gathered on the palace ground to watch the Christmas fireworks show y/n spun on her heels and rushed to the hill.
Official version? She wanted a better view of the fires in the sky.
Unofficial? Introverted nature.
"You're antisocial"
"Said the one who run away to the sea and become a pirate the second he got bored with palace life."
"Privateer!"
"Every time!" She laughed throwing her hands in the air in feigned frustration.
They loved teasing each other.
And maybe it had something to do with the fact that sitting alone in the dark hill with the star studded sky was way more emotional than any of them actually wanted to admit.
And maybe it was because it was bringing out some hidden emotions neither of them wanted to admit to.
Teasing was a safer option.
"Hey do you ever wondered how it's possible that we have grishas for everything except the earth matter?"
"What?" Nikolai made a face and looked at her a bit confused. It was one thing to be nervous and the other to act a bit crazy.
"The earth matter." She clarified falling on her back "I could be a florist or something like that." Her melancholic sigh made his heart skip a beat. "I could enchant the ground."
"By creating some poisonous bushes?"
"That would be a nice barrier to give us some privacy, huh?"
"Wouldn't you like that sunshine huh?" Nikolai fell on the blanket next to her.
"Why do you think I really keep hiding here?" She rolled on her side to look in his eyes. "It's not that I can't handle people Nikolai"
"I think you can handle at least one..."
"Very special one." She smiled softly, for a moment looking like a woman in love.
Fleeting second, since before either of them could actually gather to courage to take it further the fireworks started exploding, startling them and making them jump away from each other.
"Saints!" She was on her back instantly, gaze fixed on the show thanking the gods that it was hard to notice the blush that already crept on her face.
But he saw.
He felt her so close that this sudden distance, made him cold. And he didn't like it.
He was this close to running down the hill and stopping this crazy display of Lantsovs vanity for the fun of the crowd just so he could have a silent moment with her.
It wasn't like he chased her here for no reason!
The only hope was that it couldn't last forever and soon the fireworks stopped.
"Y/n"
"Hmm?" It was impossible to move and look at him out of a sudden.
"You'll get bugs in your hair...."
"I'll manage. Maybe you're the one who's worried about getting your fancy royal outfit dirty?"
"I got my share of dirty on volkvolny" Nikolai chuckled
"Ugh! I didn't need to know that!"
"Do I make you flustered love?"
"Crazy. You make me crazy you rascal!"
"Crazy for me...?"
"Idiot...." She pushed him away playfully letting out a chuckle, unconsciously giving him a chance to grab her hand and caress her palm.
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
"You're cold.." he whispered interlacing their fingers.
"Then do something about it...."
He leaned forward.
She met him halfway.
Finally.
The fireworks has only just started.
#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov x you#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone x reader#christmas bingo
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Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x female!reader
Request: hi! could i request a nikolai x heartrender reader where the reader helps comfort/take care of nikolai after he turns back to himself after turning into the monster one night? tysm! <3
Summary: When everything is falling apart around Nikolai, you’re there to support him and bring more peace into his life.
Words: 4k
Warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, lots of angst
You had been in the King’s service for quite a while. When you had first joined the Second Army as a child, you never imagined to one day find yourself in the King of Ravka’s inner circle, but now you were one of the first to be called to the King if he needed help.
The help you could offer was mostly connected to the powers gifted to you. Being a heartrender secured lots of different tasks in the King’s service for you, but there was one task given you that was the most important.
Countless times you had sat on the King’s bedside, your fingers moving over his palm as you slowed down his heartbeat. Nikolai’s dishevelled blonde hair was spread over the pillow, his eyes losing focus again and again as he desperately tried to look at you. “It’s alright, moi tsar,” you whispered, your voice reflecting the desperation inside you. It hurt you to see him like this. Over and over again.
When his eyes closed, his heartbeat slowing to a sleepy rate, you stayed for a bit longer than needed. How many times would you have to do this again?
Today had been a slow day at the palace. Genya had left this morning to head out to a First Army camp, Zoya leaving to take a ship to Kerch for some private business she had. That meant you and Nikolai were basically alone in the palace for a few days. At least when it came to your friends.
David was still there, but he didn’t like to come out of his workshop anyway, unless Genya made him.
However, just because your two closest friends were away didn’t mean you didn’t have any work to do. You had a heartrendering lesson to teach today, out on the grounds of the Little Palace, with the teens this time. You didn’t have a preference when it came to teaching different age groups, but all of them had a different way of listening to you and then learning from the moves you made.
It was a stormy day today and the clouds were dark, heavy with the upcoming rain. You liked to train outside and teach with the fresh air around you. It was a calming atmosphere for a lot of students and for you as well.
Yet your time was cut short. It soon started pouring rain, thunder roaring in the sky and you quickly directed everyone to get back inside the palace. “We will continue the lesson tomorrow,” you assured them. You wanted to teach a new unit and it wasn’t worth it trying to gather everyone in a room again. Until silence would have settled, your time would already be over.
So you spent the rest of your day going over letters that had been sent to you in your office. You cut them open neatly, read through them and then made two different piles. The one on your left would be for letters that didn’t require a response and the one on your right would be the ones that you had to get back to at some point. The right pile ended up being much higher than the first one.
You dipped your quill into a small bottle of ink, starting to write your letter to a Commander of the First Army. He had requested a few Second Army troops, but you couldn’t give him what he wanted at the moment.
A knock on the door made you look up from the parchment. “Come in,” you said, but you already knew who it was. You would recognise that heartbeat anywhere. It was the one you so frequently looked for, calming it, gifting this heart a well needed rest.
“Moi tsar,” you greeted the King when he closed the door behind him. He was wearing his uniform, blond hair slightly dishevelled, a few strands hanging down onto his forehead. He pushed the sleeves of his brown jacket up as he made his way over to you. Your desk was standing by the window, the lightning outside illuminating the scene every now and then.
“You still call me that every time,” Nikolai chuckled, pulling the chair from your dressing table over to the desk. He sat down opposite of you, a grin on his face. “What is my favourite heartrender working on, huh?” He seemed to be in a good mood. Just a few nights ago you had visited his chambers to free him from his pain again. To free him from the hold the monster had on him even after it visibly disappeared.
Nikolai had become more than just your prince or your king over the years. He had become a good friend, a best friend. You trusted him with your life and he trusted you with his.
After the monster had settled inside him after that fateful fight, he came to you for help. He knew you couldn’t make it go away, but you could grant him a little peace every time that dark storm raged inside him again. He trusted you, to make this your shared secret and to look after him in some way. This situation made your bond even stronger, unbreakable. Whenever his body ached, his heart dared to burst out of his chest and he was haunted by visions and nightmares, you were there to bring him calm, like the sound of soft ocean waves hitting the shore or the birds singing outside of his window.
Nikolai wasn’t too sure if what he was feeling in his stomach sometimes, when he looked at you, was only the feeling of relief, someone coming to help him. It felt more like something that reached a lot deeper.
He had so much admiration for you. Even when his limbs were filled with pain, when his hands felt like they were on fire, shivers sometimes ran through his body whenever you touched him. Your soft fingertips running over his skin left a mark on him no one else could. He wanted to carry that feeling around all day, at all times.
“Just answering some letters. There have been quite a few letters from the First Army,” you explained to him, but placed the quill down to make sure Nikolai knew he had all your attention.
“And what is my favourite king doing on a stormy day like this?” You asked, a smile on your face. Talking to Nikolai always felt so easy, so natural. There were no secrets between you two.
Except for the yearning deep inside you. The urge to kiss his forehead whenever you helped him fall asleep. The desire to lace your fingers together whenever he put his hand out to you. His pink lips looking so inviting when you came to check up on him in the morning.
Everything about Nikolai was admirable. His looks, his personality, even the way he carried himself. Yet you felt like giving in to these feelings, your deepest desires, would be a death sentence for your friendship.
For you, Nikolai was a good friend. For others, he was their king, representing a country that had been divided for centuries. He had more important things to do than form a deeper relationship with a heartrender in his service. There was enough space for you in his life to be a friend, but your love might be too big to fit his chest in times like these.
You could still dream about it at night though. Every now and then.
“I’m your favourite king? I didn’t know there was another one,” he chuckled and then picked one of the grapes from your fruit bowl. You always kept something to eat around when you were working on your desk.
“I started to-” he said with a full mouth, but then paused to speak clearly again. “I started going over some documents as well. Was really boring though, so I’m here now to check up on you.”
Nikolai did complain about his work load sometimes, but you knew that he would do even more if he had to. He would do anything for this country and make it a peaceful, balanced place again after all the chaos it had to endure over the years. The Darkling’s terror was over, as was the horrible irresponsibly of his father. The young king was here to put things right again.
“Well, I’m glad you’re keeping me company. The palace is a lot more quiet when Genya and Zoya are gone, don’t you think?” You leaned back in your chair, crossing your legs while Nikolai continued to eat some of the grapes.
“Yeah, it is. I don’t see David getting dragged around as much as usual.”
You let out a chuckle at his answer, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “He needs to get out of the workshop sometimes, you know that.”
“I do, I do,” the blonde man insisted, eventually playing with the letters you had deemed as unimportant. “So, will you join me for dinner tonight?”
Dinner? You didn’t know when you had dinner alone, just the two of you, for the last time.
“Just us. Won’t even drag David out of the workshop.”
A tingling sensation spread in your stomach. A dinner for just the two of you sounded almost too good to be true. But it was surely a thing between friends. Catching up on recent work, enjoying a day inside since the weather was so horrible…
“I would love to,” you agreed eventually, nodding reassuringly.
A grin spread over Nikolai’s face and his eyes lit up. Not only due to the lightning that basked your room in light again.
“Then I will see you at the usual time, my favourite heartrender.”
Then he was gone, leaving you with a fast beating heart and the urge to count down the seconds until dinner.
Dinner with Nikolai never came.
You sat in the dining hall at the long table, in your usual spot, right next to the King’s seat at the head of the table. The rain was still splattering against the window rapidly, the candles on the table were reflecting their light onto the polished plates in front of you.
Your hands fumbled with the sleeves of your red kefta, a sigh leaving your lips.
The white and golden walls of the room were starting to make you feel trapped in this room. Guards were standing outside, but the room itself, it was empty, except for you.
The eerie silence was only interrupted by the pitter-patter of the rain and the thunder roaring outside. Your gaze travelled over portraits and expensive furniture, over all the gold and glamour you were surrounded with.
Anything to distract you from the pressure in your chest.
Did Nikolai just forget about your meeting? No, he wasn’t someone to do that.
Did he deem something else as more important? Maybe, but he would have told you. He would have sent someone to inform you about any changes in his schedule, especially if there was something planned with you.
Did something happen to him?
The thought alone sent a wave of nausea through you. Your fingers tapped against the polished table, feeling continuously nervous. You couldn’t just sit around here all night.
You pushed back the chair and then stormed towards the large double doors that led back into the hallway of the palace.
“Miss-”
It was probably one of the guards wanting to stop you from leaving. He probably had some kind of excuse on his lips why you should stay, but you knew that something must have happened if Nikolai didn’t appear at the promised time.
Too much time had already passed. He could be dead by now. And you had been sitting around, waiting for the food to be served.
When you turned the corner, wanting to head straight to Nikolai’s office to look if he was there, David came rushing towards you. His hair was even more dishevelled than usual, sweat was pooling on his forehead and he was out of breath by the time he reached you.
“Where is Nikolai?”
It was all you said. He must know.
“He’s in his chambers. I was about to call you for-”
You didn’t need another explanation. Without waiting a second longer, you left David standing in the hallway and your feet took you to Nikolai’s chambers as fast as you could. The walls around you seemed to be spinning by the time you arrived in the other wing of the palace, standing in front of the king’s chambers.
“Saints,” you breathed out, already being able to hear Nikolai’s rapid heartbeat.
You slipped into his room, locking the door behind you.
Nikolai was sitting on the edge of the bed, blood running down his temple, claws still present on his hands. He was shirtless, his chest filled with bruises and scratches.
Your heart almost stopped. You didn’t like to see him in pain. Then there was the overwhelming urge to take it from him, to tend to his wounds somehow, even if you weren’t a healer.
“Nikolai,” you breathed out and he turned to look at you. He seemed to look right past you for a moment, until his eyes seemed to fill with tears. “My favourite heartrender,” he croaked, lifting his arm to reach out to you.
In a few big steps, you were by the bed, in front of him.
You knew he had turned into the monster again. He had probably fought with an animal, maybe losing himself between tree branches again, their sharp ends poking through his skin. Your hands found his and he visibly tensed up again.
“The claw-” he started, but you were quick to interrupt him.
“I don’t care, Nikolai. I don’t care,” you whispered, voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes as well. All this pain for a young man with already too much weight on his shoulders.
For a moment, you closed your eyes, focusing on his heart rate once more. As you had done so many times before. His heartbeat was a familiar sound in your ear, a sound following to your dreams as if it was pounding exactly like yours.
Nikolai relaxed, his heart slowing down once more and his breathing regulating again as well.
“It’s alright,” you whispered and kneeled down in front of him. His claws slowly disappeared and you watched him close his eyes for a moment. His jaw unclenched and a single tear ran down his cheek, but you were quick to wipe it away.
“Everything’s alright,” you reassured him, slowly getting back onto your feet and grabbing a towel from the nearby dressing table. With precision, you wiped the blood off his temple, before sitting down next to him on the bed.
Nikolai didn’t look at you for what seemed like an eternity. His gaze was fixed on his hands as if they were displaying a horror he had never seen before. His breathing stayed the same but you could feel his heartbeat slowly rising once more. Your hand found its way onto his back, trying to keep him calm, using your powers to assist that goal.
The lightning outside lit up the room again. You could see more blood stains on Nikolai’s arms and his chest. His blonde hair was darker from dirt gathered in it. A sign of his journey, of the fate he was haunted by.
The monster would always be a part of him.
And comforting him would always be your priority.
“Want me to run you a bath?” You asked softly, fingers gliding over his bare back. Under different circumstances, you would have used the time to enjoy the view in front of you. Seeing his bare skin, his hard chest and wondering what it would feel like to let your lips meet his soft skin.
But this was far from any of the scenarios you wished for in your head.
A nod from your king.
You left him in his bed for a moment as you prepared the bathtub in the adjacent bathroom. You also got some fresh towels ready as well as some thin pants for Nikolai to sleep in, together with his night robe.
By the time everything was prepared, Nikolai was standing in the door already. He seemed a bit more collected now. “I need that bath,” he mumbled and started opening his pants. You turned around, staring at the wall in front of you with burning cheeks.
When you heard Nikolai settle in the bathtub, you dared to turn around again. The bubbles and foam were covering enough so you could only make out parts of the man’s chest. It still didn’t stop your own heartbeat from rising. Tending to his wounds was usually less intimate than watching him lean back in the bathtub, arms resting on either side of it.
“I will wait in the bedroom,” you assured him, but you were just by the door as his voice sounded through the room again.
“Stay here.”
You turned around to face him and there was a desperation in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. They seemed to be pleading with you to stay, to not leave him alone.
“I will.”
His expression relaxed once more and then he reached out for you. Your legs felt weak as you made your way closer to the tub, eventually letting your hands meet. His fingers intertwined with yours easily, as if they belonged into that position. Your eyes met again and the pain in them was gone. It had made space for something else – adoration.
His hazel eyes closed for another moment and when he opened them again, tears were dwelling on the edges, but a smile was on visible on his lips. “Thank you for doing this. For… all of this,” he whispered, his voice almost being drowned out by the sound of the rain outside.
You slowly knelt down to bring yourself to about the same height as Nikolai in the bathtub. Your other hand went to cover his as you kept it in a strong hold. You could feel the pulse in his arms, the loud beating of his heart and you knew that he was enjoying this moment just as much as you were. It just raised the question inside of you where all of this would go eventually. Would you be able to confess your feelings for the King? For someone you had sworn to protect and serve, but had found a good friend in instead?
His hand let go of yours and for a moment, you felt disappointment sink into your stomach. But Nikolai’s hand soon found the back of your neck, warmth spreading there and goosebumps making their way to every part of your body. You held your breath for a second as you felt a slight pressure on your neck. Nikolai moved you just a bit closer as he leaned forward as well. You were able to feel his breath on your lips, a shiver running down your back. You were so close – close enough to kiss.
“Can I?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
The words were stuck in your throat, so all you did was nod, too afraid to destroy the moment and the silence between you.
Then his lips were on yours, light as a feather, but it seemed to shake you to your core. It felt wonderful, almost like flying, and as if a heavy weight was finally taken from your shoulder. The heat in your cheeks was rising, your hand finding its way into Nikolai’s blonde hair, slightly wet from the bath.
The pressure on your neck increased, so you moved forward a bit, enough to make it easier for the kiss to become deeper, more passionate. Kissing someone had never felt this good and when your hands cupped Nikolai’s cheeks, you could practically hear his heartbeat jumping. His hand stayed in your neck, a sign that he didn’t want this to end. Maybe ever.
Only when you had to breathe again, did you dare to pull away. His eyes were darker, filled with a tint of lust, but more importantly, his breathing had changed. It was faster, like his heartbeat. “You don’t know how many times I had wanted to do this.”
His confession was unexpected, but very welcome. “Me too.” It was just fair that he knew your feelings as well. For a moment, you regretted not saying something, or doing something, sooner, so you could have enjoyed this a lot earlier. But everything was perfect the way it was.
Slowly, with wobbly legs, you stood up again, but your eyes never left Nikolai’s as you walked over and grabbed a bathrobe and towels for him. “As much as I like kissing you, I think you need to wash all the blood off and get into your bed. Then maybe, you can get another kiss?”
A grin appeared on the King’s face at your words. It was filled with love, adoration and most importantly, he seemed happy. His shoulders didn’t look as tense anymore and the horror in his face had left, traces of the monster inside him fully retreated.
“Then I must get to bed immediately,” he agreed and as he slowly lifted himself out of the tub, you turned around to give him his privacy.
You watched the lightning outside, seeing the branches of the trees shaking in the wind. It was a beautiful sight, but you shivered at the thought of Nikolai being out there earlier, flying through the storm, coming back with wounds and blood all over him.
Arms wrapped around your waist, Nikolai’s head resting on your shoulder as he pulled you closer against him from behind. The bathrobe felt soft against you, but his breath at your cheek was enough to make your legs feel weak as well. A kiss was planted onto your cheek and you could feel Nikolai’s heartbeat slowing down more and more. He was relaxing, finally getting some emotional rest. But you would have to get him to bed as well, so he can let his body regenerate.
“Let’s go to bed,” you whispered, before turning around in his arms. Hands found their way to your hips as you looked at the man in front of you. The smile was still apparent on his lips, the same excitement and love in his eyes as before. “I can’t even say no to you when you say it like that,” he smiled, taking your hand again as he walked back into his bedroom, eventually getting into bed himself.
You sat down on the edge again, taking his hand into your own and moving two fingers up and down on his arm. “Are you going to make me sleep again?” His voice was soft and you would have thought it might indicate that he did not want to sleep yet, but his tired eyes, now struggling to stay open, spoke another story.
“If you want me to,” you answered, not forcing anything upon him. When the beast didn’t let go of his heart, making it race over and over, and he wasn’t able to calm down, then you did force him to sleep once or twice. But Nikolai seemed alright now, not in need of heartrending-induced sleeping.
“I do. But only after you’ve given me a kiss,” he demanded, sitting up a bit in bed again as he leant forward to you. A smile on his lips, he pursed his lips, expecting a kiss from you.
You were certainly not going to deny him that.
Leaning forward, your lips met again, the same intoxicating feeling making its way through your body. Your hands cupped his warm cheeks, smiling into the kiss as you fully enjoyed the goosebumps, the shivers, all the sensations this was giving you. Nikolai’s lips felt like heaven, there was no doubt about it.
When you pulled away again, his cheeks had turned a darker colour, but he let himself drop into the pillow with a satisfied smile.
“Goodnight, my favourite heartrender,” he whispered, smile on his lips as he closed his eyes.
You couldn’t hold back your own smile and the content feeling in your stomach become even more apparent.
“Goodnight, Nikolai.”
You sat there for another moment. You would always keep him safe.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov#sturmhond#sturmhond x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov fic#shadow and bone#shadow and bone tv#king of scars#kos#sturmhond x you#nikolai lantsov x you#sab s2#sab fanfic#shadow and bone fanfiction#sab fanfiction#nikolai lantsov imagine#shadow and bone imagine#sab imagine#nikolai lantsov headcanons#alina starkov#leigh bardugo#the darkling#mal oretsev#genya safin#david kostyk#zoya nazyalensky#six of crows#soc#rule of wolves
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For the picking (Reader x Nikolai Lantsov)
Requested by: @lareinaa007 Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @evilcr0ne
Summary: I altered the storyline a bit I think cause I haven't read KOS yet sorry. Reader is one of the potential brides for the King. She doesn't like him, thinking he is stuck up for bringing all these princesses here to pick from. After he saves you from drowning, you have a heart to heart by the fireplace.
Wheels toggled over the gravely road. Picking up dust with it’s speed. Carriage wobbling around as those inside got shaken. You sighed annoyed spreading your arms to held yourself in place. – “Only a few more miles.” – One of your father’s loyal servants said. Practically his right hand, signed to accompany on this trip of potential marriage with the king. The wheel hit a rock, bouncing you up in the carriage. You landed back down, tiara moved forwards on your head.
It made you groan loud puffing some hair out of your face. – “You’ll have plenty of time to fix yourself once we arrive.” – he spoke adjusting his gloves. As if not effected by the rough terrain. You reached for your tiara, pulling it out of your hair. The second you raised it up, he clicked his tongue waving his finger in disagreement. – “It is already ruined.” – you puffed out. He gestured for you to set it back down.
“Do you truly wish for the king to see me like this?” – you mocked with a sarcastic smile. He cleared his throat making you roll your eyes. You set the tiara back down, handling it as best as you could around it. Tugging some loose strays aside as best as you could. Exhaling deep, you leaned back against the seat with your arms crossed. Osmo sighed briefly. – “Perhaps you could admire the view?” – he suggested with a gesture at the outdoors.
You brought your chest up a bit, taking a peek outside. Nothing but the same boring old road in sight. – “No thank you.” – you answered letting yourself fall back. Osmo sighed again pinching the bridge of his nose. – “Princess you have to work on your enthusiasm. How do you expect the king to pick you with this attitude.” – he said. You raised your eyebrow quick. – “Perhaps that is my goal.” – you answered with a sneer. Osmo straightened his posture, folding his hands together on his lap.
“Princess I hope I don’t have to remind you of your duties and the stakes?” – Osmo narrowed his eyes, mimicking a glance that reminded you of your father’s scowl. You sighed out obediently. – “No, I have not forgotten why I am here.” – you told him pulling your glove by your elbow a bit up. – “Meet the King, seduce him, become Queen and live an unhappy marital life with a king who chose me for simply how I look or how pretty I talk.” – you declared making Osmo clear his throat in disagreement.
“Princess!” – he slightly rose his voice making you raise an eyebrow. He apologized with a deep sigh only a father figure could. – “I am well aware of your disproval of this potential marriage but think of your duties. Think of our people, think of the alliances it could bring. Our lands are being threatened by Grisha. We cannot fight them.” – Osmo declared hitting you with regret and remorse.
“You are right.” – you answered folding to your duties. – “It doesn’t mean you should like it, but please try to see all the good from it.” – he reached his hand out to take yours. – “For our people.” – he gave your hand a good squeeze making you smile faintly at him. Having Osmo around was both a curse and a blessing. A curse for he would make sure you offer yourself to the king, not giving you any chance at escaping. A blessing for you had known him your entire life.
He had been there ever since you were born. Whenever father was busy with his duties Osmo would take the time and either entertain you or calmly tell you that now was not a good time to disturb your father and that he would make sure he’d come see you after. If there should by anyone by your side right now, it should be him. Your father’s most trusted friend and advisor. Osmo let go of your hand, turning his attention to a little notebook he pulled out of his pocket. You took a deep breath, looking outside. Your doom approaching closer as you saw the waters in the distance.
Once where the fold was far behind you. The carriage came to a stop by the castle. Osmo got out first, offering you his hand as you stepped out. The sight of many other eligible princesses, you swallowed nervously. – “There are so many.” – you whispered to Osmo who placed a hand on your lower back. Perhaps to keep you in touches range so you wouldn’t run. He guided you closer to the slowly growing larger crowd of princesses and their guardians. Some were personal maidens as others were captains of the guard. A few lords with a high status within the inner circle as you recognized the pin clipped on their uniform.
Each and all likeable in their own way. Osmo pushed you closer to a girl in a red dress. She glanced briefly to you with a whiff of attitude. It made you roll your eyes. – “Don’t pay attention to them.” – Osmo whispered to you. You coughed loud, waving your hand in front of you when a girl walked passed consumed by an overwhelming perfume. – “How can I not.” – you coughed out as the sensation tickled your nose. Osmo simply gave you a stare to not be so dramatic.
It made you shrug your shoulders as another carriage came to a stop at the castle. Osmo furrowed his brows, taking out his pocket watch. You peeked curiously at the time. He tugged it away once more, clearing his throat. – “What is it Osmo?” – you asked seeing him trying to overlook those standing before him. – “Why are we not greeted yet? Brought inside? Where are the king’s manners?” – he mumbled to himself. You didn’t agree mostly with Osmo, but now you were wondering it too.
“Perhaps he has already found a bride and we are simply gawking here catching flies.” – you said with a chuckle. Osmo sighed loud at your foolish attempt of a joke. – “I’m sure it won’t be long till the King comes and greet us.” – he answered. Looking around you noticed some others were getting suspicious of this unusual greeting. Perhaps he had forgotten he had invited so many eligible princesses from all around in the hopes to find a wife among them.
You were about to convince Osmo to leave as nothing was budging when the large doors opened slowly. In the midst of it appeared a figure in a blue uniform. You stared questionable at him as he stepped through the doors, clasping his hands together. A cocky smile on his lips. – “Princesses.” – he addressed rubbing his hands together. Some giggled at the attention of being addressed. – “It is an honor to all see you. I hope your travels have been well.” – he said as you immediately got from it that he was King Nikolai Lantsov. Some princesses answered.
“It has been well, your majesty.” – a girl in a green dressed dropped into a curtsy. Nikolai smiled pleasingly at all the attention. He clapped loud in his hands startling a few girls. – “Let us get to know each other. If you would all follow me.” – he gestured with his hand behind you. You and many others turned to see what there was. The king walked amongst the princesses as they made way for him to lead the way. – “Your majesty… are we not being welcomed inside?” – a bold one dared to ask him as she strutted beside him.
Nikolai smiled. – “You are all to be welcomed, just not inside.” – he gestured once more for everyone to follow him. Osmo nudged you to follow the king. A princess puffed loud beside you. – “He’s taking us outdoors. Doesn’t he know this weather is making my skin humid.” – she whined out pulling her gloves higher up than possible. The servant she was with started fanning her. The kings intention of meeting outside wasn’t much appreciated.
Many princesses were huffing and puffing at the hike they were forced on. You looked at Osmo with a glance how foolish this was. Osmo tried not to sigh loudly at that. – “He’s maybe an alternative type?” – he whispered to you not sure what to say to this idea. You hummed mockingly in agreement. You sighed loud at the sight of the sea. Nikolai smiled presenting everyone with his ship. – “Let’s all get on board.” – he said happily as some princesses groaned. – “Is this why we hiked almost through all of Ravka for a ship?” – you heard someone complain. – “My feet hurt.” – another one complained.
Osmo placed a hand on your shoulder. – “He’ll never pick them with their whining. The chances are growing in our odds.” – he told you making you roll your eyes. Even now he still only thought of your duty. All of you board his ship with the help of him. Nikolai was waiting at the top, offering his hand to every princess to help them on his ship. Osmo bowed to the king as he got on, helped out by one of the crew. You were just behind Osmo when a hand got practically shoved in your face.
“Princess.” – he said ever so sweetly it made you nauseous. You kept your hand by your side not needing his assistance. Certainly not from such a bloated king. Nikolai furrowed his brows when you ignored his hand attempting to get on it yourself. He saw you struggle a bit, placing his hand on your lower back. – “Allow me to help you.” – he spoke taking your elbow as well. With a shove, you pushed his hand off you. – “I can assist myself!” – you called out. Nikolai moved his hands back watching you try to get up.
“Are… are you sure you don’t need any assistance?” – he asked as you looked over your shoulder to him with a glare. The king swallowed laying off. Osmo came to the rescue pulling you on board. – “Don’t.” – you told him before he could give you a lecture. Osmo simply sighed deep as if once again unable to handle an untamed daughter. You joined the others gathering around on the ship. Once everyone was on board, got you lined up. Your guardians standing a few paces behind you. Nikolai went down the line, greeting each and every one in person. You puffed loud with a roll of your eyes.
How conceited you thought he was. This wasn’t a marital allegiance; this was a fair where the best looking animal got picked out to win a prize. You felt like a toy waiting to be possibly picked up by the king who wants to play with it. You heard Osmo clear his throat behind you, making you straighten your posture with a sigh. You couldn’t hide it away. You didn’t want to be here and it kind of showed. The king was nearing you as you tugged at your gloves. Nikolai said his goodbyes to the princess as his eyes met up with yours. He stepped to the one beside you, yet his eyes rested on you. You ignored his stare too stubborn to give him any attention.
Nikolai started speaking to the girl beside you but with haste. He didn’t take his time as he did with others. He took her hand, pressing his other hand on top of hers. He then moved on to you. – “Your majesty.” – you said dropping into a curtsy. – “I’m glad you have made it aboard my ship.” – he answered with a chuckle.
You found him anything but funny. Wanting to have this greeting over as fast as possible you introduced yourself. – “Princess Y/n.” – curtsying again. Nikolai whispered your name in repeat with a smile. – “Tell me Princess Y/n what are some of your likes.” – he asked making you snort loud. He raised an eyebrow with a funny smile. – “Am I that amusing?” – he replied chuckling. You favored him with a sarcastic smile. – “Is this the base you will find a wife upon?” – you asked him without any shame. Nikolai’s funny charade dropped. You clasped your hands together between the folds of your dress. – “Tell me my king am I pleasing your choice with my beauty or has this gathering given me the wrong impression?” – you leaned a bit closer to him with a big smile.
You could practically hear Osmo restrain himself from strangling you there and then. Nikolai chuckled nervously. You dropped into a curtsy letting him know to move on. He cleared his throat moving on, yet his eyes lingered on you. You caught him staring, trying not to give in to it. Once the King had spoken with every princess, the line scattered. Small groups of princesses got formed as the King mingled from group to group. You stood a bit aside with Osmo near the railing. Osmo sighed deep pinching his nose bridge.
“Y/n! Honestly did you truly have to make such a fool of the King?” – Osmo scolded with disappointment. You swallowed nervously, knowing he only used your name when he was truly cross or disappointed with you. – “There is too much at stake. Can’t you for once put your pride aside. These prejudices against the King have to stop.” – he told you.
You lowered your gaze, shoulders untensing. – “My apologies Osmo.” – you said softly. You never liked it when he was cross with you. The feeling burning hard through your veins. Osmo took a deep sigh grabbing onto the railing. – “This isn’t a game Y/n.” – he said looking up to the blue skies. Barely a cloud in sight. – “When will you grow up and take up your responsibilities?” – he breathed out as his words cut you deep. Blinking quickly you hoped to keep your tears at bay. – “I…I…” – you started wanting to apologize when Osmo tapped the railing hard. – “I’ll go fetch you a drink. Remain here.” – he spoke out taking his leave before you could finish your words. – “I’m sorry.” – you whispered out.
Grabbing onto the railing you exhaled loud. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a dazzling figure approach. The princess who had stood beside you in line was smiling rather wickedly at you. As if she had a devilish plan in her head, still debating to give in to it or not. You straightened your posture to her. – “Yes?” – you asked direct as she giggled amusingly with a hand on her chest. – “Why are you here?” – she asked bluntly. – “Same as you.” – you answered with a gesture. – “To woo the king in marrying one of us.” – you replied with little intention to mock her. She scoffed loud. – “Is this a joke to you?” – she called out crossing her arms.
“Why are you here when you are clearly not interested.” – she said loud untangling her arms again. – “Forced?” – you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. The princess turned her head seeing the King look your way with a certain glance in his eyes. It made her grit her teeth. You weren’t even trying yet it seemed the King was interested in you. – “Unfair!” – she suddenly called out giving you a little shove. – “Hey!” – you called back in shock. The moment she saw that Nikolai was occupied in a conversation she grabbed you by the arms. – “Let me go!” – you said trying to break free.
“You don’t deserve the King.” – she grunted out pushing you hard against the railing. With a bit more force was she able to toss you overboard. You lost your balance, toggling over the railing into the cold waters. A splash washed up when you hit the water. The splash caught everyone’s attention. Nikolai’s gaze flashed in your direction immediately spotting you were gone. He quickly pushed some people aside wanting to reach the railings fast.
Grabbing the railing hard, he stared over it down to the waters. The vibration of the water letting him know something had disturbed it. He didn’t hesitate to jump after you. There were loud gasps when Nikolai jumped over the railing into the water. Your head emerged above the water, sputtering out water. Waving your hands around, you felt yourself sink more at the weight of your dress. Your head went under again, water clouding your vision. – “Princess Y/n!” – Nikolai called out swimming over to you.
The moment you went back under, he took a deep breath, going under. The water was cold, colder than he expected, yet it didn’t stop him. Underwater he saw you sink deeper into the emptiness of the waters. Nikolai swam and dove down after you. He scooped his arm around you, kicking his feet to change his position under water. Head upwards, he started kicking his feet to reach the surface. He felt the weight of your dress in his arm, but despite it he didn’t let go. His breath was nearing as he needed to breath fast. His head emerged above water, gasping loud.
Your head came above water too as he wiped his hand over your cheeks in a useless attempt to dry you. – “Princess Y/n. Princess Y/n can you hear me?” – Nikolai spoke staring desperately at you to give him a sign of life. Your chest spasmed as you coughed up water. Nikolai straightened your posture a bit so you wouldn’t choke. – “Thank the Saints.” – he breathed out brushing his thumb against your cheek.
You slapped his hand away, teeth clattering. – “Get me out of the water!” – you called out, seeing the spectacle from above. Nikolai noticed them as well, nodding. He helped you swim closer to the ship where you both got helped back on the ship. Water drenched the deck where you stood, dripping from down your dress. Osmo dropped his drink at the sight of you drenched. – “Y/n!” – he shouted running up to you. Nikolai snapped his finger as two of his crew ran over with blankets. Nikolai took them from him, placing one over your shoulders. – “Saints Y/n, What happened?” – Osmo asked in a panic.
You were shivering to the bone as Nikolai draped his blanket over your shoulders as well. – “We need warmth.” – he said placing his hands on your shoulders. Another blanket got brought for the King as Nikolai accepted it. He guided you off the ship, Osmo close. Leaving his other guests unattended. They all whispered and blinked confused as they were requested to safely leave the ship and gather back on the mainland. You were rushed into a carriage with the King and Osmo.
You were still shivering as the King ordered the carriage to go faster. The moment you arrived at the castle; you got pushed around by Osmo who followed the King. – “In here.” – Nikolai said standing by the door. Osmo pushed you inside. – “She needs to get out of those wet clothes.” – Nikolai ordered with a point. Osmo nodding pushing you behind a screen. The King went across the room disappearing behind a screen as well. – “I can handle it.” – you told Osmo who wanted to help to a certain point.
You shoved him back as he bowed and left. You started undressing, pulling the weighed down dress of you. It dropped with a loud thud to the floor, leaving a small puddle of water. There was a knock on the door as it opened. – “New cloths your majesty.” – a girls voice came through. You saw a pair of hands appear behind the screen offering you clothing. Never once you saw a face. She then hurried over to the King to do the same. – “You better get dressed warmly.” – you heard Nikolai say from across the room.
The dress was rather simple compared to the one you had been wearing. No jewels embroidered on it or any sparkles in sight. Dressed, you came from behind the screen at the same time as King Nikolai. He gave you a smile gesturing at the fireplace. You sat down before it as Nikolai came sitting beside you. Holding his hands out to warm them. – “Are you warmer?” – he asked as you slightly shook your head. He looked around for something, spotting one of his jackets he wore on his travels. You watched him get up and return with the jacket. Laying it over your shoulders. He then came sitting back beside you.
You took a deep breath, wiping your cheek a bit dry. – “This is not how I imagined to stand out.” – you sighed out. – “Oh standing out you sure did.” – Nikolai answered with a chuckle. You shot him a glare making him smile even more. You sighed again, pulling his jacket closer by your chest. Nikolai swallowed softly. – “You know… I have a feeling you don’t want to be here.” – he asked cautiously making you snort loud. – “Understatement.” – you answered. Nikolai looked with pity at the flames. – “I never met anyone who could make finding a wife feel so unpersonal.” – you added sparking his curiosity.
“I do have to admit it is an easy way. Simply invite every eligible princess in all of Ravka and she’s ready for the picking.” – you chuckled softly staring at the fires. – “Tick off a few boxes, illiminating those you don’t find pretty or smart enough.” – you didn’t mean to laugh, but it was rather funny to you. Nikolai hummed deep. – “You are right.” – he said making you turn to look at him surprised. – “I was ticking off boxes… I guess I lost the care when the pressure of finding a wife increased.” – he continued.
“So this was not your idea? To pick and take the Princess of your liking?” – you asked. – “No.” – Nikolai laughed out. – “I was far from thinking about marriage… but duties…” – he sighed out. – “Tell me about it.” – you responded. Nikolai glanced at you, nudging your shoulder with his to cheer you up. It made you smile. – “I like your smile.” – he said catching you off guard. – “It’s real. Not formed, twisted, or turned but genuine.” – he added.
Slowly your heart started to warm up to him. Something you didn’t think possible in the beginning. – “I like yours too.” – you responded. – “It’s simple, playful and honest.” – you told him as a smile formed on his lips. – “Are you any warmer Y/n?” – he asked as you hummed staring lost in his eyes. Nikolai stared right back at you guiding his hand to yours as he took it.
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everything stays
nikolai lantsov and giving someone a second chance is like giving someone another bullet 'cause they missed the first one
long live the liar
thinking thoughts. *ೃ༄ i dont know if this was meant to be angst but. tada?
pairing: nikolai lantsov x wife!reader
fandom: grishaverse
warnings: very obvious cheating, implied s*x, angst <3 sadly, zoya is a bad guy in this </3
“i— y/n, just wait!”
nikolai chased his wife through the halls, one hand in front of his pants to keep them from falling. when she has entered, they had been unbuckled and had been halfway down his thighs.
he had been with zoya.
“no, nikolai!” she shrieked. she whipped around to face her ex-beloved. tears streamed down her face, running tracks through the makeup genya had so carefully applied moments before.
“please.” he dropped down onto his knees and clasped his hands, looking up at her.
zoya tumbled out of his office, fixing the last strap on her gown. she smirked at the sight and sneered, “almost had ya there, your whoreness.” then, to his wife, “think you might need to reapply your makeup, sweetheart.” she waved her fingers and proceeded downstairs, to the ball being held in the queen’s honor.
“y/n—“
“how long.”
nikolai looked down at his knees. “two months.”
y/n scoffed. “so you’ve been lying to me. your wife.”
“im sorry, y/n. please, my love, give me a second chance.”
she laughed, a sound short and hysterical that sent chills down the king’s spine. “giving someone a second chance is like giving someone another bullet because they missed the first one.”
a servant walked past at that moment. they startles, then bowed deeply. “long live the king.”
they scurried away, leaving the king and queen alone.
“long live the liar,” she spat, turning and running towards the end of the hall.
nikolai kneeled there, looking at the space his love once occupied. “long live the liar,” he mumbled sadly, wiping away tears.
#lizzie’s fall fifty event ♡.#ellora <3#nikolai lantsov#nikolai x reader#nikolai lanstov x reader#grishaverse#grishaverse x reader#nikolai lantsov fic#[🧸] dear diary
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⚓️nikolai lantsov masterlist⚓️
key: ❤︎︎ - fluff, ☁︎︎ - angst, ★ - smut
coming soon!
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov x y/n#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov
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zoyalai fic rec list because i’m always in my brainrot era for these two and there aren’t enough fics about them
i will continue to update this because i’m always finding new fics that i want to tattoo in my brain
dedicated to feentanz for making up like 80% of the ao3 zoyalai tag i’m your biggest fan
CANON-COMPLIANT
Ocean Eyes by feentanz (T) 2.6k
“You know,” he said into the silence. “With all those suitors now asking for your attention, I could begin to feel slightly neglected.” Zoya raised her head, narrowing her eyes ever so slightly. “I think your ego can handle it.” “My ego perhaps, but what about my poor heart?” She smiled at that, brushing some hair back from her eyes while she approached him. He still hadn’t quite gotten used to this version of Zoya, the version who wasn’t hiding from him, who didn’t have to pretend.
wondering if you knew by tsaritsas (NR) 1.5k
Zoya tells Nik how she knew she loved him.
Dearly Beloved by storm_dog_pirate (G) 5.1k
So what should he give to a woman who already had everything? He found that it was difficult to answer. Had he still been a king, he would have offered her plenty, and those words and sweet nothings wouldn't have been empty promises. But he was just Nikolai Lantsov now, barely having anything in his name besides the former royal title and the scars and nightmares he bore.
Zu Ende by feentanz (T) 1.9k
And so she rolled her eyes, following the king into the parlor. “You really like losing, don’t you?” Zoya commented, sitting down at the table where Nikolai had already set down the chessboard. She refrained from commenting on that. He was smirking, sitting down across from her. “Only to you, Nazyalensky,” he replied, and Zoya felt a weird sense of hurt at those words. “Then I hope your wife doesn’t know how to play,” she said, already moving her first piece.
The place in our hearts where we hide by disjointed_scribblings (M) 5.5k
"Someday we’ll see an end to war, and then you and I will take a nap together."
In the days after the peace, four beds where Nikolai and Zoya nap (or "nap").
in the tongue and teeth of old by peterpan_in_neverland (E) 1.2k
“I’ve had an illustrious life, Zoya,” she tells her. His hand skates higher, brushing the conclusion of her sternum, and it makes goosebumps break out between her breasts. “I once slept in wildflowers. A whole field of them.”
The thought of it sounds nice, but admitting that to him feels too close to telling a secret, and she is not yet there; he has her heart and her ribbon in wholes, but the rest of her is coming slowly. She is revealing herself in ebbs and flows like the tide.
“I can't imagine the bugs,” she says.
Somehow We’ll Get There by orangeslices4scott (NR) 1.2k
In the aftermath of the civil war, Nikolai’s injuries take their time in healing.
When the Party’s over by feentanz (T) 1.4k
Nikolai still looked unbothered, her words failing their mark once more. His calmness made it even worse. He didn’t even care enough to react. He didn’t even care enough to explain himself to her. “I thought we were a team,” Zoya added under her breath, despising herself for the weakness. For even saying those words out loud. For even bothering. Apparently he didn’t return the sentiment.
mornings like these by noorakviigmohn (G) 1.1k
Nikolai sighed dramatically and rolled over to the side, so that they were laying side by side again. He threw his arm over his face and groaned. "I need a fucking break."
or, a domestic early-morning scene for our favourite royal couple
Emerald by orangeslices4scott (G) 1.5k
Zoya brings Nikolai back after an episode, but the demon doesn’t want to give up his host.
I Do Aim To Please by StripeySocks (E) 1.5k
Zoya tells Nikolai she's had better lovers. He's determined to give his Queen the ride of her life.
ribbons in her hair by bendingwind (T) 4.2k
Nikolai was laying on the floor in a pool of light, face turned to the ceiling and eyes shut against the sudden intrusion of light.
She stepped inside and shut the door.
Zoya's POV of the cargo hold.
as the morning comes by awanderingtortoise (G) 1k
"Nikolai, at this moment, has decided on two things: the first being that he is a hopelessly lost cause for Zoya Nazyalensky, and the second being that he does not think he will ever stop smiling again."
POST-KoS (before the release for RoW)
our first lifetime by laurore_stormwitch (NR) 1.9k
Nikolai reflects on the aftermath of the war, enjoying a peaceful moment with Zoya, and finds the courage to voice his hopes and dream for the future.
Too Afraid by feentanz (T) 2k
The bed moved as Zoya shifted beside him, some of her hair brushing over Nikolai’s arm. He felt his entire body tense at the touch, not even quite certain why. How had he ended up here? To be precise, he did know how. Nikolai and the Triumvirate had been on a mission to Northern Ravka when a nearby village had been attacked, and his general had very recklessly decided that she should be the one to defend it. Without an army, just her alone. Naturally Nikolai had followed her, and so they had ended up here, in a small cabin in a deserted village, caught up in a snowstorm. And the small room only had one bed, and no heating.
This is me Trying by feentanz (T) 5.2k
“Nikolai-” she began, but the music had stopped, and everyone around them had stopped moving. There was something on his face that she couldn’t quite read, something that looked almost like… longing. But then Ehri was there, and Kirigin was back at her side, and the moment was gone.
Nostalgia Cycle by feentanz (T) 2.9k
She raised her head now, seemingly waiting for a reply. Her hand was still resting against his chest, and yet her face was now directly in front of his own, her eyes imploring. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a plan,” Zoya said quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. “I expected better, Your Highness.” A small smirk played around her lips, and she looked so beautiful that Nikolai could barely breathe. “I like to improvise,” he replied, but his voice was raw and didn’t sound like his own. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t break eye contact. He almost wished Zoya would turn away, putting him out of his misery. He didn’t wish to long for something he could never have.
CANON-DIVERGENT
This is me Trying by feentanz (T) 5.2k
“Nikolai-” she began, but the music had stopped, and everyone around them had stopped moving. There was something on his face that she couldn’t quite read, something that looked almost like… longing. But then Ehri was there, and Kirigin was back at her side, and the moment was gone.
all i ask by awanderingtortoise (T) 2.8k
Bravado comes easier than honesty, though tonight the late hour and glasses of wine make the latter seem far more real a possibility than should be. He suspects he’s had a bit too many drinks; head light and lips loose and an excess of truth brimming in his throat.
Capital Letters by feentanz (T) 3.7k
Genya is doing her very best to bring Nikolai and Zoya together, of course unaware that they are already secretely seeing each other. Until something goes wrong, and the secret dares to be exposed.
Nostalgia Cycle by feentanz (T) 2.9k
She raised her head now, seemingly waiting for a reply. Her hand was still resting against his chest, and yet her face was now directly in front of his own, her eyes imploring. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a plan,” Zoya said quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. “I expected better, Your Highness.” A small smirk played around her lips, and she looked so beautiful that Nikolai could barely breathe. “I like to improvise,” he replied, but his voice was raw and didn’t sound like his own. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t break eye contact. He almost wished Zoya would turn away, putting him out of his misery. He didn’t wish to long for something he could never have.
AU
How to be a Heartbreaker by feentanz (T) 8k
As Head Girl and Head Boy of Slytherin, Zoya and Nikolai are used to working together - although it is different, once they have to attend the annual Yule Ball together. Although of course, neither of them is interested in the other. Right?
Ne bis in idem by ThisQueenShallConquer (E) 7.3k
Working side by side with him was a difficult thing at the best of times, but there would be moments where he'd roll his sleeves up his toned forearms, or undo the first few buttons of his shirt, and she would find her self-restraint slipping.
Or, a Zoylai Lawyer!AU where everyone's sleep deprived and Zoya really deserves to get laid.
Cruel Intentions by feentanz (E) 8k
Nikolai stopped in front of her, resting his arms on either side of her head. Zoya’s gaze was resting on him, that dangerous spark still in her eyes. “Scared?” she commented, pursing her lips. He couldn’t think straight like this. Nikolai stepped away, already opening the door to the cage. “No one has ever won against me, Nazyalensky.” Zoya rolled her eyes dramatically, slipping into the fighting ring before him. “Always so cocky,” she drawled, turning around to face him again. Some strands of dark hair had fallen into her face, and he fought the urge to tug them behind her ear.
like real people do by storm_dog_pirate and wafflesandkruge (T) 20.2k (5/15)
Paris, 1961.
Zoya Nazyalensky was left with no choice but to work for the organization that held her family's fate in their hands. Even as she rose through the ranks and gained respect, failure was still inevitable. And when she happens to blow one crucial mission because of her poor judgment, the reputation she’d worked so hard to build crumbles to nothing.
Nikolai Lantsov prided himself as an expert of "complicated acquisition", until he was caught by the CIA and offered an ultimatum: work for them or spend his life behind bars. But after failing the last mission that would have finally let him walk free, his contract with them is extended.
Coffee At Midnight by herewego19 (G) 1.3k
Nikolai takes Zoya on an adventure.
#zoyalai#zoyalai fic#zoyalai fic rec#zoya nazyalensky#nikolai lantsov#grishaverse#grishaverse fic rec#king of scars#rule of wolves#shadow and bone#seige and storm#ruin and rising#grishaverse fic#king of scars fic#king of scars fic rec#rule of wolves fic#rule of wolves fic rec#zoya nazyalensky fic#zoya nazyalensky fic rec#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fic rec#genya safin#david kostyk#tolya yul bataar#tamar kir bataar#the darkling
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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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Nine Long Years - Part 6/?
Nikolai Lantsov x Rietveld!reader, Kaz Brekker x sister!Rietveld!reader (platonic)
Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3 --- Part 4 --- Part 5 --- Part 7
Synopsis: After watching your brothers die, you found yourself working on the Volkvolny. In the many years since then, you somehow became the queen of Ravka while your brother somehow survived firepox and life in the Barrel, rising through its ranks. In disguise during a diplomatic trip with your husband Nikolai, you meet Kaz Brekker for what you think is the first time, only to find out that he is your long-thought-dead little brother.
Author's Note: Hi! It's been a while, huh :) ? Get ready to buckle up again cause this part is another 10k words of mess and destruction <3 Hope you're ready for it. Also this part picks up directly after the events of part 5 and then takes place over a few months, so I hope it makes sense to y'all
Warnings: heartbreak, mentions of death, angst with minimal fluff in this part, mentions of sickness, panic attacks, firepox, mentions of the Hertzoon con. and if i'm missing something pls lmk
Word Count: 10,020
……….
FIFTH YEAR
You had a bag packed and ready by dawn. All you had to do was find a horse, then you'd be headed far away from this camp and the people you'd devoted so much of yourself to. Even if it pained you to leave them, it would pain you more to stay; so you snuck out of Tolya and Tamar’s tent and into the camp. You quietly approached the stable area. Not everyone was awake yet, but a few soldiers were up and roaming already. Still, no one noticed you as you went along–or, you thought no one noticed. As soon as you laid hands on one of the horse's reins, a voice called out to you.
"Leaving so soon?"
You turned and saw Mal with his arms crossed.
"Wouldn't have anything to do with your captain and Alina's engagement, would it?" He asked.
"What's it to you?" You countered, dropping your hands to your sides.
"Well, I'm pretty sure you and him are involved. So if you leave, what's stopping him from wanting a real relationship with Alina?"
You rolled your eyes. "He can have a real relationship with whoever he wants, I don't give a shit."
"But I do." He pursed his lips and sighed. "I care about Alina, and this whole… situation with Sturmhond is stupid."
"Prince Nikolai, not Sturmhond," you corrected. "And I rather think he'd call it 'mutually beneficial' for him and the saint."
"It's a sham is what it is."
"Well, take that up with him, not me." You turned back to the horse you planned on stealing.
“Back to the topic, though. You're leaving?"
"You're staying?" You sassed over your shoulder.
"I love Alina. No matter how angry I am with her or with Nikolai right now, I love her. So I'm going to protect her and stand by her, even when we don't see eye to eye."
You glanced back at him, voice quiet. "How can you do that?"
"Because it's always been her and me. Together. And I would rather be with her and be miserable than be without her and be devastated."
"I don't think I can do that for Nikolai," you admitted, eyes drooping to the ground.
"Do you love him?" Mal questioned.
More than anything, you wanted to say, but all you could manage was a shaky nod.
"And how would you feel without him?"
"Terrible." You felt your blood boil at the thought of it. "But having him like this–in the night, behind closed doors–when she'll have him in every way that counts? I can't live that way."
"She won't have him like that," he scoffed. "She loves me as much as I love her, and she wouldn't have him in any way other than ceremonial. I mean, it's like a stupid show for the Ravkans, for saint’s sake."
You whipped around to him, bordering on incensed. "And when they're married, when they have to have children--heirs--what then?"
"It won't come to that. I won't let it,” he ground out, his face going red.
"You can't stop it, Oretsev."
"Just watch me, Rietveld." He looked as angry as you felt, but he took a breath and made his next words calm yet firm. "I won't let it happen. And if you stick around, there's even less of a chance it will happen."
"I can't watch this 'show,' as you put it. It hurts too much just thinking about it all; seeing it would kill me."
His face softened. "Rietveld, please, stay with us. At least until we make it to Os Alta. You could find a job in the city, or you could always stand as a private guard–that’s what I’ll be doing. And if it ever feels like too much, come talk to me. Vent to me. I’m on your side here–I hate this all just as much as you do.”
You considered his plea. You didn’t realize how this would affect him too. It felt like the lash of this engagement had only cut you, but it was selfish to not realize how others around you were bleeding. This sort of thing hurt everyone involved, not just you–though admittedly it hurt some people more. With a frown, you realized how Alina and Nikolai must also be in pain.
But despite your deeper understanding of the situation, you couldn’t feel sorry for Nikolai–he was the one who’d dealt the blow, and he would have to lick his own wounds.
“I’ll stay,” you told Mal. “But I swear I’m not going anywhere near Nikolai. I’ll only be here to stand guard of Alina with you.”
“You realize they'll likely have to spend time together and you’ll have to see him?”
“All I have to see is Alina, he’ll be peripheral from now on.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “Thank you.”
You nodded at him and squared your shoulders. “Where is the saint then? I’d like to start working.”
……….
At first you thought the journey to Os Alta would be no big deal, that you would be able to handle how he rode side by side with her or in a pretty little carriage while you were riding ten feet behind at all times. And it almost was no big deal, for the most part. Alina didn’t seem swayed by his joking or small talk, she was too proud to let him in after he’d lied about his true identity all the time he was at sea with her and Mal.
But it was when you stopped in all the little towns on the way to the capital that things became rough. Nikolai put on a show for the Ravkans, charming them left, right, and centre. And his pretend affections--if you could even call them pretend considering how real they looked–slowly showed more blatantly in front of the townspeople and First Army escort. His hands would linger on Alina’s as he helped her off her horse; his eyes would watch her softly, as though she was the light of his life; he spoke of her to his travelling companions and hosts with a reverence and care that made your stomach twist each time you overheard it.
You kept yourself busy, preferring to spend your time with the horses or sitting in the corner listening to the gripes and gossip of the First Army soldiers. If ever Nikolai glanced at you and you caught him, you always glared back until he looked away first. Sometimes you saw a glimmer of hurt in his eyes from your harsh stare, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel bad for him. This was his doing, after all.
Sometimes Tamar or Tolya would sit with you. They would all glare at Nikolai just like you did, though you tried to dissuade them. Well, you didn’t try very hard to dissuade them; you would give them each a look if you ever caught them doing it, but you never said anything as you were silently grateful that they sided with you. The twins had known Nikolai longer than they’d known you, and you felt weird being the reason they were icy with him. And yet, you kept repeating to yourself that this was his doing, that they were also upset about the way he treated you.
The arrival at Os Alta could not have come sooner. You were glad to be in a more permanent spot, though you couldn’t say either building would ever feel like a home to you. You were used to the open decks and low ceilings of schooners and ships, or the modest rooms of inns, or even the little farmhouse you’d grown up in. The Grand and Little Palaces were greater than any building you had ever seen. When you’d been in Ketterdam, you thought the exchange was the most massive place in the world, but now you knew you were wrong; the Grand Palace stood three intimidating stories high, with marble and gold inlaying almost everything.
It was odd picturing Nikolai’s youth here. You couldn’t imagine being a child in a place like this; how impersonal it all felt to you, with its glimmering white walls and landscape oil paintings, but how much worse it would have been to be a kid here. You supposed that was why Nikolai had made an effort to fill the captain’s cabin on the Volkvolny with all manner of cozy blankets and furniture and knick-knacks he’d acquired from his travels.
Luckily for you, though, the only times you had to be in the Grand Palace was when you were on guard for Alina and she had a meeting or had to attend dinner over there. Most of your time was spent with Alina in the Little Palace. While still massive, the Little Palace had much more charm to it, with its lovely carvings and pearl embellishments. On days when you weren’t guarding Alina, you’d taken to sitting by the lake and watching the Second Army summoners training.
And, now that you had more officially started working as a member of Alina’s guard, the times you saw Nikolai were more manageable. Most times you saw him, there were royal officials or army generals around, so he had dialled back his smittenness with Alina compared to when you were all on the road. Moreover, he barely spoke to you, though you supposed that was because you never spoke to him. The most you conversed–though it was one-sided–was a short greeting and nod from him before you tilted your head away to watch whatever Alina was doing. He didn’t push it beyond that; he didn’t dare, knowing the anger you carried last time you two spoke.
It felt slightly odd to you that the last time you’d actually talked to him was weeks ago when he told you of this engagement with Alina. You’d never gone that long without speaking, not since you first met him. Even before you were his second in command, he made it his mission to speak to you and every crew member on the Volkvolny at least weekly.
His greeting to you today was the same as it had become as of late. You were with Alina at a meeting of First and Second Army generals in the Grand Palace. At the end of the meeting when almost everyone had cleared the room, Nikolai approached you.
“Rietveld,” he smiled at you, giving you an almost awkward nod. But rather than keep it at that, he also said, “You look well.”
You wanted to scoff. You’d barely gotten any sleep the night before because of your nightmares. They’d returned since you started sleeping by yourself again. Night after night, you kept waking up having relived your brothers’ deaths, and there was no one with you to help you through it.
You tilted your body away from Nikolai, doing your duty as you looked at Alina. You knew she was safe since she was just speaking with Mal, but you needed the poor excuse to turn away from the infuriating man beside you.
“I thought you might like to know that a team of Fabrikators and I are rebuilding the Hummingbird after the crash through the fold. It will be docked at the lake behind the Little Palace, so you’re welcome to visit it any time, to see how it progresses.” He spoke with all the confidence he usually exuded, though one look at him and you knew better; his eyes were nervous as he extended this small gesture of goodwill. He was worried about what you might say or do, you just knew it.
You almost said nothing, but as you looked into his eyes, you let out a short huff and grumbled, “Well let’s hope this one flies better than the last.”
“Truly,” Nikolai grinned, pleased that you’d given him a response.
You looked at Alina again and noticed she was leaving the room, so without another word, you left Nikolai.
……….
It was happening again.
You were on the streets of the Barrel, hurrying to reach your brothers after a long and stressful day of work. You wove through the alleyways, your feet moving like air; you were weightless–drifting. There was a light scraping, the prodding of the Bodymen's hooks against the cobbles, and a horrible thought came to your mind. You tried to move faster, but your feet were still drifting. All you knew was that you had to get there faster–had to say goodbye to your brothers.
Suddenly, something shifted and you were upon the tall stack of crates Jordie and Kaz were hiding behind in their time of illness. You stepped up slowly, only to see Nikolai sitting there in the place of your brothers.
He lay in a heap on the cobbles; weak with firepox, and mumbling nonsensically. Your feet could not move fast enough to be with him.
You crumbled down to your knees beside him. And you reached for him, but he used what little strength he had still left in him to push you away. You tried again, but he swatted you back with a sick wail in his throat. Again and again, you reached for him, trying to hold him in your arms, to touch his forehead or grab his hand, to comfort him in whatever way you could, but he always evaded you.
And then when you finally got hold of his shoulders and leaned in to look at his face, he shoved you away with a great force. You were knocked down beside him, and his face turned angry–hateful.
Suddenly, he shouted at you, "This is all your fault!"
You woke up with a start. Sweaty and shaking in the dark, you rushed to light your bedside lamp. The dim flame brought you some comfort, but as soon as you started to dwell on the images you’d dreamt, you felt nausea gripping you tight. You could taste the death in your mouth, stirring a sour, stale sickness inside you. You sat on the edge of your bed, your body doubled over and your head between your legs as you tried to shove the rot away.
You tucked your knees up to your chest as a sob tore through you. It was moments like this that made you most angry over Nikolai’s engagement; moments where you used to rely on him to help you, but where you couldn’t anymore. Since that trip to West Ravka a year and a bit ago now, he was the one to pull you out of any nightmares and back to the warm reality of his arms around you. But now for the last two months, he was all the way in another stupidly grand building. And engaged. And utterly unavailable to you.
You huffed, shoving to your feet despite how weak your limbs felt. With a cloak over your pajamas and your boots to protect you from the autumn evening chill, you travelled out of your stifling bedroom, through the tall halls of the Little Palace, and out into the open sky of the outdoors. You gulped in the crisp air, clearing your lungs of death as you listened to the crickets. You looked out at the lake behind the Little Palace and spotted Nikolai’s new flying boat modelled after the Hummingbird. The bobbing boat beckoned you closer.
In the moonlight, your boots crunched towards the short dock on the lake. It creaked underfoot as you approached the boat. Kingfisher was written in scripted lettering on the small vessel’s stern. The deck wasn’t too large, though there appeared to be a cabin beneath it, judging by a small circular window on the port side. You noticed the flicker of candlelight through this window, and before you could turn tail and run back in the direction you came from, you heard his voice.
“Can’t sleep?” Nikolai called out to you, appearing from the open hatch of the cabin
You gulped, not wanting to meet his eyes. You muttered, “Something like that.”
“I can’t sleep either,” he said.
He stepped towards the ramp that connected the ship to the dock. You ignored how he wrung his strong and greasy hands on a cloth. You also ignored the sweat on his brow, ignored the memories of all the times you’d once worked beside him. All the times you’d admired the concentration sculpted along his beautiful face. He wasn't dressed like the prim prince you'd seen the last couple of months, he looked more like the privateer you loved.
“Would you want to come aboard and look around?” he asked softly, his voice reminiscent of all the nights you’d once spent with him by your side.
You nearly shook your head, nearly said you should go back to sleep. But the lingering fears in your mind kept you from returning to the Little Palace. All that was there for you was nightmares and a Nikolai that despised you. At least this Nikolai spoke softly, with a lingering affection.
Silently, you climbed the ramp and boarded the Kingfisher. Your arms crossed as you took in the sails and rudders, the fine lacquer keeping the fine wood intact. The sway of the waves beneath brought you some peace. It was too long since you’d sailed.
“Come check this out?” Nikolai asked of you, tilting his head towards the stern.
You stepped over to the back of the boat, keeping a secure enough distance beside him as he braced his hands on the wheel. You eyed the lever that would adjust the sails so that Squallers could lift the boat. The designs were updated, but most everything looked the same as it was on the Hummingbird. Nikolai pointed to the back mast.
“When I pull the lever now, this mast will only tilt halfway, allowing smoother steering than the last one did,” he explained, his eyes alight. He looked like a kid on the first wintery day of snowfall.
He looked over and caught you staring at him. You turned away as soon as you could, but the damage was done. The soft adoration in his eyes snapped whatever tough resolve you’d built up over the last few months, and you took a sharp breath. It came out in a shaky exhale, and you brought your hand to your mouth.
“This is all your fault!”
The words he cried in your nightmare flashed through your ears, and you felt your throat tighten. You started sobbing, nothing held back as hot tears dripped down your face. You heard Nikolai sigh softly as he realized you were crying. Without hesitation, Nikolai brought you into his arms, holding you under the watchful eye of the moon. You should have been strong enough to push him away, to remind the both of you what you’d lost. But you just weren’t strong enough. It wasn’t in you to push him away like he had pushed you away in your dream.
"What’s wrong, my darling?" He murmured into the crown of your head.
“Nightmares.” There was so much more to your pain, but this was all you could say.
His voice fell to a whisper, "Oh, darling."
He held you close, swaying you for a moment as you stood on the deck, then he ushered you to the cabin hatch. He brought you below deck, sitting down on a plain bench with you as a lantern burned in the corner. As you sat there, you felt the boat swaying gently, rocking you.
Nikolai's one hand caressed your back, rubbing warm circles into you, as the other cradled the back of your neck, holding you securely as you leaned against his chest. He smelled like salt, grease, and pine; it was a combination so familiar and so Nikolai. You forgot what it was to breathe him in.
There was a bubble in your throat, an aching pressure on your larynx as you sobbed into his half-laced shirt. You tried to keep it inside, tried not to let the bubble burst and the truth come out, but you hadn’t been good at hiding things from him ever since the first night he saw you cry.
“I just miss you,” you whispered, praying he didn’t hear you.
His hand stilled on your back for a moment, then he kept rubbing along it. He heard, then. And yet, he didn’t say anything. He just held you to him as you kept crying.
The scent of him lingered as you stayed in his arms. Even after you shut your eyes and felt your brain slowly falling asleep, you could smell him. The boat kept rocking, and soon enough your body fell asleep in the comfort of his familiar arms.
……….
You could hear birds when you woke up. The air smelled crisp. Your eyes blinked open, looking around at the cabin of the Kingfisher. It looked bigger in the light of dawn. You lifted your head off of Nikolai's chest.
A sick form of embarrassment took root in your chest. There was no humiliation quite like falling asleep in the arms of someone you swore you were done with. And he awoke with you, just as light a sleeper as he'd always been. He smiled softly at you, and you had to look away and get up lest you do something even more stupid.
"I should go," you said, straightening out your cloak as you went to the hatch. It was still dawn, the sun had barely risen, but you needed to be off of this ship and back into your room before people started waking up.
"Or you could stay," Nikolai replied quietly, standing with you. "We could talk about us? About last night?"
"There's nothing to talk about, Nikolai," you huffed.
"Darling, you were sobbing last night. I haven't seen you as bad as that since that time we were stranded in West Ravka." Nikolai sighed, stepping a bit closer to you. You let him grab your hand. "I made a promise to myself that night that I wouldn't let you cry alone ever again.”
You pursed your lips, saying something he knew. “You’ve already broken that promise."
“I know. I know I have, so the least I can do right now is talk and listen to you until you’re better.”
“I’m not going to get better," you scoffed.
He knew that too, you were certain of it, but he didn’t dare say it aloud. Instead, he said something much more stupid. “If I knew the people of Ravka would accept me as their king I never would have–”
“Stop,” you said tiredly, dropping your hand from his. You folded your arms around yourself. “I don’t want to argue right now. You’ve made your choice, and that’s that.”
Nikolai went quiet, his eyes dropping to the floor. You took a breath and climbed up the hatch, into the open air, and into reality. You walked across the deck, but stopped at the ramp when he cleared his throat and called your name.
"I have a test flight of the Kingfisher this afternoon." He gave a weak knock to the mast, a paltry smile on his face. "You're more than welcome to come watch.”
“I’m on duty later, I’m not sure I can come.” At your sides, your fingers balled into your cloak.
“I invited Alina already. She said she has Grisha training, but she might be able to make it.”
You nodded politely. “Then perhaps I’ll see you again later.”
“Perhaps.”
You turned to leave but he called your name again. You looked at him, watching his nervous eyes.
“I… I hope you know that you can always come to me when you’re hurting. I’ll never turn you out,” he said softly. “Or if you’re not upset but you just feel like talking to me, I’m here for you.”
His words made your blood sting. You knew he didn't mean to make you mad, that he was being sincere and kind, and yet you couldn't stop the low-boiling rage that seeped into your veins. Why he couldn't just say that he missed you and that he had made a colossal mistake, you didn't know. Why he felt the need to cloak his regret in some twisted extension of goodwill, you also didn't know.
If you were even angrier, you might have called him a coward, but instead you shook your head and gave him another polite smile.
“Thank you, your highness, but don’t ever expect me at your door.”
He frowned and glanced out at the lake. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that. You know we’re beyond formalities.”
“I’ve nothing else to call you now besides formalities.” You turned on your heel. "Have a good day, your highness. I won't bother you like this again."
"It wasn't a bother," you heard him mutter as you descended the ramp and hurried back to the Little Palace.
……….
Your day wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sure, you woke up in Nikolai’s arms, but other than that nothing of note happened. You guarded Alina, you escorted her around, then you came back to the Little Palace.
As you were turning down your bed for the night, you heard a soft knock at your door. You expected it to be one of the twins challenging you to a game of cards before bed as you sometimes did with them. So you gently called out for them to come in.
It was not Tamar or Tolya. Or even Alina or Mal, the only other people whose quarters belonged in this wing of the Little Palace. It was someone who was not supposed to be here.
"No," you shook your head at him as you glanced back and saw him. You hadn't snapped at Nikolai this morning, but as he shut the door behind him you felt the urge to chew him up and spit him out. "Are you crazy? What are you doing here?"
"You said you wouldn't bother me, but I made no promises not to come and bother you," He said with a playful shrug. "Besides, last night reminded me of how terribly I sleep without you."
"You shouldn't be here, you'll be caught," you said quietly, though with a measured level of anger.
"By whom? The twins? Mal? Alina? They all know our feelings for each other, and they won't care."
You crossed your arms. "Well, I care. Staying with you on that damned boat last night was a momentary lapse of judgment, not an invitation to make this into a habit."
"To me, it's just a way to sleep better," he said softly, stepping a bit closer to you. "I would rather have four hours of high-quality sleep with you in my arms and have to sneak back to the Grand Palace while it's still dark. The alternative is tossing and turning alone in my bed because I feel so incredibly alone I could scream."
“I don’t care if you’re lonely! I don’t care!" You stormed up to him, glaring a hole into his beautiful hazel eyes. "I'm lonely too, but I don’t cry about it to you. Because what good would it do? Would it change your mind? No, it wouldn’t."
Nikolai raises his brows slightly, a signal he's about to talk, but you cut him off with a huff.
"So, your highness, no matter what you say to me, no matter how badly you want me to, I will not warm your bed. Not if there is no real future with me by your side as anything more than a mistress that you hide away from the world!”
He opened his mouth to try to speak again but a loud knock on the door cut him off before he could.
You raised a hand in front of him in a halting motion. “Don’t. Don’t say whatever it is you’re going to say. I don’t want to hear any more on the subject or I will leave Os Alta. I will pack my things and head for the coast. Because I won’t do this. I… I can’t.”
You ignored the tremble in your lip as you watched him stand there, dejected. Something in the way he stood made him look like a small child after a scolding. It was almost enough to make you feel bad for lashing out at him. Almost.
Another knock at the door made you take a breath, and you stepped back from Nikolai again.
“Come in,” you called out.
The door opened to Tamar, Tolya, Mal and Alina standing in the hall. Great, you thought, you’d woken everyone with your yelling. With your luck, all of the Little Palace heard your grievances.
Tamar and Tolya came to your side, not-so-subtly standing between you and Nikolai. Mal and Alina remained in the doorway.
“Is everything alright?” Tamar asked, carefully looking between you two.
“Nikolai was just leaving,” you muttered.
“Good. I’ll walk him back,” Tolya said.
“I’ll go too,” Mal piped in.
Nikolai shook his head with a sad little frown. “I don’t need you to–”
“C’mon, your highness.” Tolya ushered him from the room.
The last you saw of him was an ashamed glance he cast over his shoulder as he passed Alina in the doorway. Once he was gone you approached the summoner.
“I’m sorry for waking you,” you said to her. You looked at Tamar. “You and the others as well.”
“It’s alright.” Alina gave you a paltry smile. “If you want me to, I can punch him again.”
“Same,” Tamar said. “Or I’ll get Tolya to do it. That would be a spectacle.”
You chuckled. “That won’t be necessary. But thank you.”
When you looked at Alina again you saw a guilty gleam in her eyes. She almost matched Nikolai’s levels of shame as she wrought her hands. Then she suddenly hugged you.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled beside your head.
You wrapped your arms around her.
It wasn’t her fault, though you couldn’t deny that you resented her a little. She would have the greatest love of your life, living in the peaceful eye of a hurricane, while you would be caught up in the worst storm imaginable, peering through to them with desolate eyes as you tried not to lash out and harm them.
But it still wasn’t her fault. It was squarely on Nikolai. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to her, to so much as accept her apology.
Alina let go of you, and she and Tamar said their goodnights.
You couldn’t sleep, so you lay in bed, watching the stars through your window.
You recalled starry nights at sea, when the sky and the water were one with twinkling specs of white on the darkest blue you’d ever seen. Nights when you were happy, wrapped in a warm and familiar pair of arms, and the worst kind of storm you knew of only involved heavy rain on the deck of a ship.
……….
As luck would have it, there was a hunting party leaving the next day. Mal was going, and after the fiasco with Nikolai the night before, he invited you to join him and the group of nobles and high-ranking military faces on this hunt.
You gladly seized the opportunity to be away from the palace for a spell, and now you were riding horseback alongside Mal. The last time you'd ridden beside him was the road to Os Alta, but you shoved that memory aside. Nikolai was there then, putting on the show of his engagement for the Ravkan people. Saints, no matter what you were doing or what memory you carried he always seemed to linger, staining your mind and your every moment.
You shut your eyes for a second, your grip tight on your reins.
"Everything alright?” Mal’s voice reached your ears.
You glanced at him. “I’m fine.”
“Rietveld,” he started, eyes darting around before he lowered his volume. “I hope you can enjoy yourself this week. You deserve the time away from it all.”
“I know.” You nodded. “I just… I don’t know how to get through this.”
“Well, you’re faring better than our lovely prince.”
Were you though? You might have been the one to reject him last night, but you were also the one who broke down in front of him then passed out in his arms the night before. You supposed neither of you were taking this well.
“And how are you and Alina?" You asked quietly.
He turned his eyes ahead. "We're…"
You nodded after a long moment when he could not respond. "Yeah. I get that."
"It's a bit shit, isn't it?"
"A whole bucket-load of shit is more like it."
He shrugged in agreement.
……….
While you could admit it was a marvel watching Mal tracking, the hunting part of the trip was not nearly as interesting as the evening dinners. You'd be sat at tables between Ravkan lords and generals and dignitaries, listening to their stories and answering their questions. Speaking with them reminded you of your time with Lady Trokowsky; so many of them were as curt and prim as her. And though some of them were also a bit pompous for your liking, you held your own in their conversations. Plus, when there was wine and good food, even the most irritable guests were made tolerable.
"Were you really a sailor, Ms. Rietveld?" One of the lords asked you on the third night. "Grigor here says you were, but I can't imagine you at sea."
"And why's that, my lord?" You raised a brow. "Do you not think me capable?"
"Oh, not at all! Aside from our esteemed Oretsev here, you've shot the most game--I think you are very capable indeed. I just can't envision a young woman as refined as you in the life of a sailor."
"You think I'm refined? My lord, you flatter me," you said, smiling politely and tilting your glass at him. That was what Lady Trokowsy used to do when paid a compliment; you took your cues in manners from your time with her. You noticed Mal leaning forward in his seat.
"Ms. Rietveld is more than accomplished. If I'm not mistaken, she knows five languages, she can track and divide large sums all in her head and without paper, she's quite gifted with a sword, plus if you're bleeding and broken she's great to have around when there's no corporalniks nearby."
The table guests all nodded their heads, murmuring in approval, and you gave a slight look of thanks to Mal. As their new favourite hunting guest, his word meant a lot to these people. You were grateful for their good opinion; you hoped perhaps one of them might offer you a job or help you once you one day decided to leave Alina's guard.
Dinner carried on, with many of the guests asking you more about yourself or even just your opinion on local matters or the state of the war. They all seemed pleased by your answers, and you left for your tent that night feeling good about yourself and your future. Mal walked with you, and he nudged you with his elbow.
"We've got a future diplomat on our hands," he smiled.
"Well, you helped out quite a bit."
"I said one thing. The rest of that was all you, Rietveld. You charmed them all by yourself."
You sighed at his words. A small grin took up your face. "I kind of did, didn't I?"
"You definitely did." He turned to you as you stood outside your tent. "I'm glad you came on this trip. And I'm glad you got to see what kind of life you might have ahead of you."
"And what kind of life is that?"
"A life of rubbing elbows with the Ravkan 'elite.' You're already pretty good at it, but it's nice practice for once you're one of them."
You gave him a look. "Mal, that's never going to happen."
"It will once Nikolai marries you," he smirked.
You frowned at his chipperness. "He's already engaged, remember?"
He lowered his voice, looking around to check if anyone was nearby. "Alina's not going to marry him. Trust me. She doesn't want that life. When all is said and done, she won't go through with it."
"And you think he'd just marry me?" You asked in an irritated whisper.
"Yes. He loves you."
"I have nothing to offer him. At least Alina's a saint."
"He loves you, Rietveld," Mal repeated.
You looked at him, saw the certainty in his eyes, and had to look away again. You hated how sure he seemed. How confident he was, even though you knew better and he should know better too. Even if Alina didn't end up marrying him, Nikolai wouldn't marry you. The last few months had shown that. He would no doubt choose a princess or a very rich man's daughter, of which you were neither of those things.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Oretsev," you muttered, then ducked into your tent.
……….
Alina was there to greet you and Mal when you arrived at the Little Palace. But unfortunately, Mal kept riding to the stables, practically ignoring Alina. You had no idea what happened there between them to have him ice her out like that; all trip Mal had only complimentary things to say about Alina. Still, you supposed if any of the hunting party asked your opinion of Nikolai you would only say favorable things.
Regardless, Alina was there to offer you a hug and walk with you inside the Little Palace.
"How was your trip?" She inquired.
"Good. It was nice to be away for a bit," you said, remembering the tense circumstances before you'd left. "And nice to spend time with Mal. He's a good friend, even if he embellishes a bit."
"Saints, he embellished what exactly?" She raised her brows worriedly.
"Well, he was talking me up to some of the guests and he made me out to be some daring and sophisticated hero."
"Why's that?" She chuckled.
"No idea why. At one point he even said I went to the university of Ketterdam and graduated top of my class. Meanwhile, I was never educated past fifteen years old; I was raised on a farm, for saint's sake."
"Well, I'm glad he talked you up." She smiled at you. "I'm sure it made those stuffy lords and generals more pleasant to be around if they thought you were admirable."
"I suppose it did." You looked at her. "He talked you up too. Turned more than a few of them on to your side as the new leader of the second army."
"He did?"
"Yeah, he's really good at all of that."
A gentle silence filled the air. You weren't sure if it was because you'd told her what Mal got up to while they were apart, but she decided to talk about what Nikolai had been up to. Apparently, he mostly spent his time fine-tuning the Kingfisher or a number of other inventions he'd set up work on near the Summoner Pavillion.
"Also, last week he did something odd," Alina said as you arrived at the wing where both of your rooms were.
"Odd how?" You asked.
"Well, we were meeting with the royal family's jeweller." She saw the quizzical curve of your brow and added, "For Nikolai's birthday next month."
You pursed your lips. "Oh. Right."
"Part of the preparations was getting fitted for outfits and choosing which royal jewels and crowns to wear. It was a lot." She sighed. "And when we were going through the royal jewels, that’s when he did something odd."
"Oh?"
"The jeweller was showing off different crowns and tiaras for me," Alina blushed slightly, "and when he pulled out some sapphire crown, Nikolai lost it for a second."
The mention of a sapphire crown made your face burn. Could it be the crown you'd helped Nikolai recover? The crown he'd once put on your head and called you moya tsaritsa--his queen? Your heart hammered in your chest.
"He…" You furrowed your brows. "He lost it? What do you mean by that?"
Alina leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her voice despite how you were alone.
"Well, I wouldn't compare it with other people's losing it, but for Nikolai, it definitely made him lose it. He's usually so calm and everything, but he looked upset. He got all pale and then he looked at the jeweller and sternly said something like 'I told you very specifically not to put that crown in the selection.' And when the jeweller said that the queen wanted me to pick from everything, Nikolai started to go red, and he said 'I don't care what my mother said. This crown isn't to be worn.'"
Your lips parted slightly, and you glanced away for a moment, parsing out what she'd said.
Had Nikolai really been that upset over seeing that sapphire crown on display? You cared to know what upset him about it. Was it the sight of it? Or was it the thought that Alina might have picked the crown he foolishly thought you would one day wear? You weren't sure. You didn't even know if he had actually thought you could be his queen; but regardless, he had to know now that you weren't an option.
Alina chuckled slightly. "That's odd, right?"
"Yeah…" You said softly. "Odd."
……….
It was your first day off after you'd gotten back from the hunting outing. So, like most of your days off, you decided to take a walk on the Little Palace grounds. There was a pretty path behind the lake, and you were admiring the changing leaves of the trees all around you. It was understandable then that you didn't notice someone's sudden presence.
A throat cleared ahead of you on the path and you instantly snapped into focus. Your eyes landed on Nikolai and you almost sighed but then your jaw tensed instead. Since you got back you had seen him while on guard, but you hadn't been alone with him since that night he'd snuck to your room. You were afraid that the furious nature of your last conversation would only continue if you spoke again.
He gave you a slight smile and a polite nod. His hands were clasped behind his back. You took in his clothes, the slightly unkempt way his fine shirt was tucked, and the grease spot on his trousers. He must have been working on the Kingfisher again when he saw you walk by and chose to follow you. Still, he didn't look like he was in the mood for an argument either, not with his diplomatic smile.
"How was your hunting trip?" He asked, finally breaking the silence between you.
"Fine," was all you said.
He nodded, shifting his weight on his feet. "I hope you weren't too bored with all the lords and generals. I know how dreadful those trips can be."
"It was fine, really," you said, crossing your arms. "Mal is a good friend to have around those sorts. He and I spent all the time while we weren't shooting to talk up our little saint; to win public opinion of her."
"I didn't think Oretsev was clever enough for that," Nikolai grumbled, the annoyance of his words hidden under a smile. "Using influential lords and the likes to bolster the public's opinion of Alina… good on him, I suppose. It's a smart tactic."
Something about his words, or perhaps his slight irritation and the fact that he had no right to be irritated, irked you to no end.
"You hypocrite," you scoffed. "You frown down on Mal for using these lords and changing their opinions to help your fiance, and yet it's you who's engaged to her just to use her sainthood to bolster your claim to the throne."
Nikolai chuckled lightly. “And she is using me so that my family doesn't declare her and all the other Grisha enemies of Ravka. I wasn't frowning down on Oretsev for using these hunting parties. Using people for one's own advantage happens all the time in politics.”
“So I’ve learned," you said, your eyes narrowed slightly on him. You watched him for a moment. "Were you using me?”
“What?” He turned to you, his eyes turning from slight amusement to a blinking bewilderment. “Of course I wasn’t using you,” he said softly. “Do you really think I was using you?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore, Nikolai. You told me you wanted us, now and always. You put a crown on my head and called me your queen.” You tugged your simple chain out from under your shirt and let Nikolai’s ring dangle on it. “You gave me a ring that I, very stupidly, believed meant something… And then you made me feel like an idiot for thinking you could ever be mine–that I could ever share my life with a prince.”
"You still wear the ring?" His eyes seemed hopeful.
"I… that's what you've latched onto?" You blinked at him.
He stepped closer to you. His eyes were earnest. "I'm sorry. I wasn't using you. It was always love between us; I wasn't going to exploit that."
"No, instead you broke it."
You saw it on his face. Yes, I broke it, was written in the mournful line of his mouth as his eyes drooped to his shoes.
"If I could take it all back," he said quietly, "I would. And you would be happy and I could stop worrying and it would all be back to the way it was before."
Your fingers balled up at your sides as you scowled. "And how was it before? You expect me to believe you would have married me once you were back to being a prince? When you were still Sturmhond you were so ashamed of me that we didn't even let the crew know we were together!"
"I wasn't ashamed–" he started but you stepped closer to him, eyes furious.
"Why would I believe you'd ever let the royal court know you wanted to be with a common sailor?"
"Because I would!" He exclaimed, a desperate glint in his eye as he brushed his hands through his hair. "Because I love you and--despite what you think–I am not ashamed of that love. I never have been."
He took your hand, and--ignoring the urge to break free and slap him or shove him into the dirt–you let him. He took a breath, letting his eyes meet yours again once he was ready.
“What I’m trying to say is that I–"
Nikolai cut himself off at the sound of footsteps approaching. He dropped your hand and took a step back, and you pretended his actions didn't sting. The approaching footsteps turned out to be Vasily, and you kept down the groan you wanted to make.
"Vasily," Nikolai nodded.
He put on a charming smile, though his chest rose and fell quickly. You didn't need to read his mind to know what he was thinking because you were thinking the same thing--how much had his brother seen between you two? It was a wonder with the way Vasily stared so skeptically at you both.
"Who's this you're speaking with, brother?" Vasily asked, sleazily eyeing every part of you besides your narrowed stare.
"This is Rietveld," Nikolai answered calmly, though you noticed how his hands were desperately trying to not ball up at his sides. "She was my second in command at sea, now she's one of Alina's guards."
He sneered as he glanced between you and Nikolai. "Ah yes, one of your… crewmates. Seems quite pretty for a sailor. I think you spoke about her before… didn't you say she was Kerch?" He addressed you. "Are you Kerch, girl?
"Yes," you replied with gritted teeth. He bent a superior eyebrow and you added, "Moi Tsarevich," with the bow of your head.
"A Kerch sailor," he mused. "I wonder where you met her… Was it Ketterdam?"
"Yes, brother," Nikolai said, his words carrying a careful twinge of annoyance.
"Such a pretty thing… I wonder, where in Ketterdam could you have found her?" He made no attempt to hide how he watched you like you were a piece of meat. "Did you pluck her from the Barrel?"
"Vasily," Nikolai warned with a low voice.
"I imagine she came from somewhere lush and expensive, at least I hope you didn't buy her out of one of the cheap brothels. Though she does have the scowl of a cheap whore."
Nothing more could be said on the topic, as Nikolai's fist came in contact with Vasily's jaw. You heard an ugly thwack sound, and Vasily stumbled backwards, landing on his ass on the dustiness of the dirt path.
"You filthy mutt!" Vasily spat. "You nearly knocked all my teeth loose!"
You expected Nikolai to straighten out with a diplomatic apology, sarcastically citing a lapse in judgment or pretending his arm had spasmed. You expected him to act as prince, but at this moment he was privateer instead. He bent down beside his brother and grabbed him by the collar.
"If I ever hear you speak about her like that again, I will punch you so hard you bite off your own tongue," Nikolai threatened. "Am I understood, brother?"
"Some brother you pretend to be–"
Nikolai's grip tightened. "Am I understood?"
"Yes," Vasily sneered.
Nikolai let go of him and stood to his full height, dusting himself off. He was back to being a dignified prince. "Good."
Nikolai glanced at you then glanced down the path in the direction back to the Little Palace. You took the hint, and silently but with quick steps, the two of you walked along.
The image of Vasily in the dirt brought you joy, though you couldn't say the same for the way Nikolai threatened him. Nikolai's actions frustrated you to no end, making you frown as you walked. It wasn't his job to do that, to fight for you, but he was a fool who treated it like his duty.
Once the Little Palace was in sight, you spoke to him.
"I've dealt with worse than Vasily, I don't need you to defend me," you asserted.
He looked at you. "I know you don't, but I wanted to."
"You don't get to anymore," you said, "you have a fiance to defend instead now."
Nikolai scoffed. "He called you a whore, what else was I supposed to do?"
"Let it slip by. Defending me is not worth the wrath of your brother."
"Please, I've already earned his wrath just by existing." He smiled. "And besides, it was nice to give him a whack like that. He deserved it for what he said."
You wanted to agree with him that Vasily deserved a whack, but you held firm. It was hard to tell if you were just being contrary for the fun of it or if you meant it.
"You shouldn't let him get under your skin," you muttered. "Don't do that again, Nikolai."
He slowed and you slowed with him. Stopped in the shade from the Little Palace, he looked at you, his stare earnest.
"I could tell you I will only let myself lash out at him just this once, but I would be lying." You thought he might hold your hand, but as he reached for you he thought the better of it and clasped his hands behind his back. "I would be lying, because if he–or anyone else for that matter--speaks about you like that again, hitting him would be the least of what I'd do."
……….
FIFTH YEAR - KAZ
Kaz didn't know why he was in Lij.
He hadn't been in his hometown since he moved away from it at nine years old. But he was walking the harbours of Ketterdam on his day off from the Crow Club and saw a boat travelling down the coast to the southern farmlands of Kerch. Next thing he knew, he was sailing away from Ketterdam.
Then he was in his old, simple little world. Acres upon acres of farmland, a town square with market vendors and people who smiled at other people without trying to steal their wallets… it all seemed so foreign to him now.
He went up the hill to his old farmhouse first. It had sat in disrepair for a few years now since his siblings moved to the city. The fields were wildly overgrown, but it still looked like a plot of good land. Kaz trudged through the weeds to the barn out back. It only took him four seconds to pick the lock on the barn door. The inside was empty, but it still looked alright.
He didn't dwell for long, though. He stood in the barn, shut his eyes for a moment, breathed in the farm air, thought briefly of his family--of how he missed them--then he left.
He relocked the barn, instinctively leaving it how it was found, then set out on another path down the hill.
Kaz passed by the well-kept house of Old Lady Trokowsky. How that Ravkan bat frightened him when he was younger. He had no idea how his sister managed to visit with her every other day just to read to her and keep her company. As Kaz recalled, her tongue was always so sharp, and she would shout at him and Jordie from the upper porch above her front door whenever they got into the slightest bit of mischief.
He wondered for a moment if she was still alive; in his memory, she seemed ancient, after all.
A broken post on her otherwise perfect fence caught his eye, and he nudged it with his foot.
"Rietveld? Jordan Rietveld!" A worn voice called out as soon as his boot made contact with the post.
Kaz's eyes snapped wide in surprise, and he instinctively straightened out at the memory of reprimands gone past. He looked up to the porch above her front door, and sure enough, sitting there by the railing was Old Lady Trokowsky. He would have smiled at the sight of a familiar face if he wasn't so frightened of her.
"Jordan Rietveld, what are you doing to my fence? And what are you doing back in Lij? Your family's supposed to be in Ketterdam!"
Kaz blinked up at her. Did she really think he was his brother? That he was Jordie?
"Well, young man?" Her gravelly old voice called down to him again.
He felt like a child under her eyes. He was fourteen now, yet he felt like he was six and following along with whatever trouble Jordie was getting into.
Trokowsky waved an arm in a resigned manner. "Oh, come inside, boy. I've got hot chocolate and cookies that I'm too old to stomach now. Eat and talk with me, Jordan."
Kaz paused at the gate. He wanted to pass by and head back to the town, but he felt a strange desire to go into her house. The closest he'd gotten to the house was standing in the doorway with Jordie when Da would sometimes send them to fetch their sister home early; the inside of it was always a mystery to him.
He passed through the gate and went up the stone path. It felt like he'd get in trouble, but he opened the front door and peered into the front hall. A caretaker for the bat came down the stairs to greet him. She directed him up the stairs and straight to the front where Lady Trokowsky would be waiting on the upper porch.
His eyes roamed the walls as he went upstairs. All these Ravkan portraits and plaques adorning her house--the burgeoning criminal in him told him he should swipe something, but he ignored the urge. His sister had always spoken highly of Trokowsky, despite how the bat would shout at him and Jordie, so he would respect his sister by respecting the bat's belongings.
He stepped onto the upper porch and noticed immediately that her eyes had a slight wispiness to them that no doubt impaired her vision. Cataracts, if that was the right term. This was likely why she didn't recognize him as Kaz but as his brother.
"Ah, Jordan Rietveld," she greeted in her worn voice, gesturing to the rocking chair beside hers. "It's been years, hasn't it?"
Kaz nodded and took a seat beside her. "Yes."
"How are you, boy? How is the city treating you?"
Like hell.
That's what he wanted to say. He'd been chewed up at spit back out by Ketterdam. He was rising through the ranks of the Dregs, but not without a few scrapes and tussles. He'd grown to be a swindler and a scammer, though he supposed that information would be quite useless to this old lady.
"Very well," he lied, feeling compelled to smile for the bat. "I've just been promoted at work."
"Oh, isn't that wonderful?"
She did something that was nearly a smile. Her wrinkly face tightened slightly with the weak force of her mouth muscles, stretching her lips in a kind position.
"And how is that young brother of yours? Is he still as much trouble as you?" She chuckled fondly.
"Kaz is dead," Kaz said bluntly. He almost didn't realize he said it at first, but then he noticed Trokowsky's face fall.
"Oh dear… I'm sorry to hear that. Your sister always spoke so highly of her baby brother," she said with a sad coo.
Kaz glanced away over the balcony. "Well, she's gone now too. Moved across the world."
"I suppose that explains why she stopped writing to me." Trokowsky sighed. "I thought she might have passed in that plague–what a terrible, terrible bout of firepox it was this last time…"
If only she knew, Kaz mused, holding back a wry smile.
"Do you ever see her? I'd love for you to tell her I say hello and that I miss her company," she said softly.
He didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. "I see her every few months. She comes to visit me in Ketterdam, or I go visit her in Novyi Zem."
"Oh, good. I'm glad to hear that." She smiled again. "Your family has suffered enough without being separated by something so trivial as the sea."
It seemed as though Lady Trokowsky might have said more on the matter, but a sudden coughing fit wracked through her. Kaz's body recoiled from her wheezing. It brought back memories of plague.
He balled his gloved hands into fists and he looked away from her as he waited for her coughing to end. She recovered from her fit, and he stayed long enough to finish his hot chocolate and eat three cookies while he listened to a couple of stories from the bat. But he didn't stay much longer than that. Trowkowsy grew tired, in need of an afternoon nap as the elderly sometimes need. She gave him a kind parting smile as her caretaker wheeled her to her room.
Kaz waited in the main foyer until the nurse came downstairs again. He procured a Crow Club card from his pocket and handed it to the caretaker.
"Please let me know when she passes," he nodded to the caretaker.
Then he left and went down to the town square again, heading for the municipal office. He tried to acquire his family's farm back from the township. He didn't quite have enough money to buy it back yet, but he knew he would put it under Jordie's name when he did. Or perhaps Jordie's middle name would lend itself better as the ink on a dotted line. Either way, he could not secure the deed today, so he found his way to a ship bound up the coast to Ketterdam, back to the city of thieves and barterers.
A few months later, Kaz received a short letter. Lady Trokowsky had died of her old age.
At her funeral, the name card on the grandest bouquet of flowers gifted was simply: "The Rietvelds."
..........
A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment on this new part--I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)
Part 7
Masterlist
Taglist: I will reblog this part with the tags because there's too many of you to tag and tumblr won't let me do it all at once
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov fic#grishaverse fanfic#nine long years
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( fic ) hurricane
hurricane
grishaverse (nikolai series) | zoya/nikolai; mature, 3.8k
When Zoya accidentally hurts Nikolai in dragon form, he takes care of her in the aftermath.
#zoyalai#zoyalai fic#zoyalai fanfic#zoyalai fanfiction#grishaverse#grishaverse fic#grishaverse fanfic#grishaverse fanfiction#zoya x nikolai#nikolai x zoya#nikolai lantsov x zoya nazyalensky#zoya nazyalensky fic#zoya nazyalensky fanfic#zoya nazyalensky fanfiction#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#zoyalaicentral#my fic#*mine
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Not like them : Nikolai Lantsov x reader
idea/requests by @sublimepenguinpeach-blog : Reader is friends with Alina, met with Nikolai, who is smitten with her, but she reject al his advances since he remind her too much of the men who sexually harassed her in the past. But when reader starts flirting with Tolya, the price just could not hold it anymore.
I changed some things so they would fit the story better, but hope you'll like it :)
***
„You know he’s harmless, right? Just a bit too cocky and self-confident, but apart from that….” Alina started, taking a seat next to her friend on Volkvolny
“I know.” Y/N cut her off before the sun summoner could even finish the sentence “but those are men like him who …..” her voice broke a little.
“I’m sorry.” Alina looked down. “I never meant to remind you of the past.”
“Not your fault.” The other girl sighed deeply and looked at the ocean.
Back in the days, before she met Alina, she had her fair share of traumatic events. As if it wasn’t hard enough to be born into an esteemed Grisha family and yet, also being the only one who held no powers. Zero. Zip. Nada. Unless you count her social awkwardness and a bit of quirkiness.
And that…. well, it led to some complications, to say the least. Although no one ever said that straight to her face, she was a black sheep of the family and it was showing in every gesture, every word and every action taken towards her. She was treated condescendingly, humiliatingly and blamed for so many things that were simply beyond her control ….
One day she just couldn’t take it anymore and snapped. Made a mess. Screamed at the top of her lungs. The quiet girl who was taking all the tease became a snarky, snappy, sarcastic and quick to respond woman.
Oh, if that girl ever held any power she would be an Inferni, no doubt about it. She just seemed to have an answer for everything, was not afraid and that blunt, big mouth caused her some trouble. Let’s just say that her father did not like the attitude. Despite her being ordinary, from that day she was practically forced to participate in a straight-regime training wish Grisha just to punish and humiliate her. And her inadequacy was quickly noticed by some of the guys there.
And used.
One night after particularly extreme practice, when she was walking home alone, tired, exhausted and barely moving her legs three of them laid out for her, grabbed her from behind and dragged her into the nearest empty house on the roadside.
“Get the fuck off me!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, squirming against the tight grip, but she was too small and too weak to fight against her oppressors. “I will not…..”
“Will you just shut up?” one of the boys said, tightening the grip on her. “You were asking for it from the moment you showed up amongst us. You don’t belong here. You’re not a Grisha.”
“Well you don’t deserve that position either!” she spat and that got her a slap on the face. Oh, that boy was surely not holding back his strength. “Fuck you!” she screamed
“I think opposite.” He smirked taking a step forward “wonder if you’ll act the same when we are done with you. What do you think, gentlemen? Shall we draw lots who would be the first to play with her?”
Shit. She had to do something. Anything. But how could she possibly fight against three grown-up men? She was turning her head around frantically, using the fact that at this point her capturers started quarreling about the order of ……
And their absent-mindedness gave her a bit of leverage when she quickly wriggled herself free and started running as fast as she could. She might have been smaller but it also made her faster and due to some miracle she managed to escape. That was a relief, but her frantically beating heart, disheveled hair, torn coat and dirt on her knees was not something her parents accepted. They were disgusted by her outlook. And of course, she could never tell them what really (almost) happened. They would never believe her. Instead, she took her punishment, throwing some sarcastic comments, clenched her jaw and tried to move forward.
But the trauma stayed.
And those men got away with everything, and even worse – from that fateful evening started to harass her even more. Verbally. Throwing dirty jokes about her body, grabbing her while passing and making efforts to get her alone again, claiming that this was what she wanted.
And she snapped again. Causing a scandal, since after all she was a “no one” who dared to attack Grisha.
Since there was no one who could help her, she just escaped her hometown and were on the run since then.
And that was how she met Alina and Mal, who were probably the first people to accept her fully, never judge her and become her friends for good and for bad. They knew each other for a couple years now and there was nothing that these three wouldn’t do for each other.
Hunting for the seawhip amplifier included. And dealing with one, stupidly annoying price Nikolai Lanstov.
Y/N did not like him from the very beginning. Of course, he was annoyingly handsome with that infuriating smile and contagious laugh, with those shiny eyes that seemed to sparkle even more when he was at sea and his unruly, thick, curly hair.
But his attitude?
Just like Alina said. Cocky. Arrogant. Conceited. Sarcastic and so full of himself. This reminded her of those men from her past. And it was not a good memory. Therefore for the last weeks she has been avoiding him like a plague, trying to shield herself from the trip down memory lane. And both Mal and Alina supported her in this, while knowing where it came from. And they were never going to tell her secret.
The rest of the crew however, did not understand a thing. Especially Tamar and Tolya. They were a bit surprised that someone could have so much irony and power to make their friend Nikolai speechless. She was probably the only girl who could begin to compare with Nikolai in the field of hiding true feelings and using irony as a defense, a shield. And that boy just loved to spite her.
And speaking of the devil…..
“Are you ladies enjoying the view?” upon hearing Sturmhond voice Y/N just rolled her eyes.
“Be nice.” Alina hissed turning around towards the prince.
“nice. sure. It’s not like you were the one to punch him the second we found out his true identity.” Y/N spat back
“That was only because you are slower than me…”
“It’s not like we are on vacation.” Y/N spit before Alina managed to stop her “In case you forgot, tsarevich.”
“Not with you to remind me. You should relax a bit, sunshine.” Nikolai smirked with that characteristic face expression that made Y/N clench her fists. He was just so freaking annoying. “And since you two are clearly gossiping here, may I ask who is the subject of those gossips?”
“What makes you think it was a person?” Y/N crossed arms over her chest, eying Nikolai with the most stern expression she could produce.
“Call it instincts. So?”
“No one you would know.”
“Really? Wanna bet I can find out who’s the lucky guy? I got resources to do that.”
“Saints! Only you can start bragging out of nowhere.” The hell Y/N was going to listen to Alina’s advice to be nice.
“That’s just a casual reminder that nothing can hide from me. And definitely not that blush on you face Y/N.”
“I am not…..”
“Oh, you are. Is it because of me Y/N?”
“Pffff.” She scoffed and blew a raspberry. The fact was she was blushing, but the person who caused it was yet to approach them.
Tolya.
Even since she met him on the deck of Volkvolny he sparked something in her. Despite all her bad experiences and deeply hidden disgust and fright of men.
He was just different.
Y/n never knew a man who would recite poetry and be so … openly caring and romantic and courting and protective and ….
To say the least, she was a bit smitten by him.
Or maybe she was just deflecting.
But it was hard to hide that Tolya’s appearance immediately put a smile on her face.
“Are you ladies enjoying the trip?” he absentmindedly asked the exact same question as Nikolai
“I always enjoyed being in the open.” Y/N looked at him with glistening, bright eyes. Her answer, so different than before, got Nikolai pop his eyes and open his mouth wide. “Cat got your tongue, Nikolai?” she laughed lightly and it was his turn to blush. Once again, she got him speechless. And he hated that.
“Yes.” Tolya took a deep breath and closed his eyes a bit “That remind me of…..”
“Oh, no, please, do not recite the poetry again” Tamar chimed in, before her brother could say a word
“Just because you, my dear sister, cannot fully appreciate the beauty of the art, doesn’t mean that pretty lady Y/N cannot as well.”
“Pretty?” Y/N smirked. “isn’t that a little condescending?”
“It never meant to be.” The Shu man exhaled and his gaze focused on her “did you take it like that?”
“No. I don’t think I did. But still, I bet you tell that to every girl you meet.” She dared
“I haven’t met much girl lately. At least not since you, Y/N.”
“Oh….”
“is it just me or are those two openly flirting with each other?” Alina whispered to Tamar, who were barely holding back a chuckle
“Looks like it.” Tamar gasped “Wonder who’s gonna make the bigger fool of oneself.”
“Nikolai, I think. Just look at his face. Not so reserved anymore.”
“Wait. You don’t seriously think that he might…..”
“I know him longer than you, Alina. I think he does. Just wait and see….”
“I did however, have many adventures and many stories I can entertain you with, Y/N. If you’d like to listen, of course.”
“Of course!” she practically exclaimed “It would be such a relief to listen to someone who can talk about interesting things.”
“Y/N, you mind if I have a quick word with you beforehand?” Nikolai tried his best to act casual, but it was no use.
“Told ya.” Tamar raised an eyebrow at Alina
“Um, yes, I actually do mind” Y/N tilted her head. She just loved to dare Nikolai and push him past his boundaries.
“Too bad. “ he shrugged “I am the captain. You’re on my ship. So you will listen.”
“I am not…..”
“Now.” Nikolai commanded and that harsh attitude took everyone, Y/N included, by surprise. Sturmhond was not exactly known to lose his cool and temper.
***
“What?” Y/N spat the second he closed the door to the cabin. She was not even going to hide how furious she was at him “what on saints was so important that you just couldn’t wait a while?!”
“You.”
“Me?” she frowned “what …..?”
“I don’t understand you.” he sighed “I just don’t. And believe me, I’m trying. ”
“What the…..?” she tried again, but he didn’t let her finish, taking a step forward, making her retrieve until her back hit his desk. The intense look in his eyes made her panic slightly. Saints. She was trapped. Again. With no way to hide. Suddenly her mind took her back to the past, to that barn, reminding her of her oppressors, of the past, of what happened, of how she was alone and hurting and forced to move past her trauma. “No….” her body trembled and she completely lost contact with reality, too immersed in the past “No…. please…. not again.” tears started falling down her cheeks and she sobbed desperately.
“Y/N?” Nikolai voice became alerted in a second, his gaze softening while looking at her, so broken and vulnerable. He had no idea what he did and why she acted like that. “Y/N, what happened? Hey, please, I …..” he hesitated, not sure whether to hug her or not.
“I hate you!” she cried out
“Why?” he sounded broken
“you are just like them!”
“Like who?” this was all just too confusing for him
“Like those guys who tried to …. to…..hurt me” she shook again, hiding her face in hands and trembling again.
“Oh, love….” Now it became painfully clear and Nik could not hold back his instincts anymore, extending his arms and wrapping them around her, pulling her close, letting her cry into his chest, rubbing soothing circles on her back “I’m so sorry.” He whispered “But it’s ok. You’re safe now. No one will hurt you. Not when I’m around. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“How….how can you be like that?” she pulled back slightly, her broken gaze landing on him “How can you be so much like them with your attitude and confidence and smugness and yet, so different? I … I don’t understand it….. I ……”
“Y/N.” he smiled at her, cupping her cheek and rubbing her tears away “Look me in the eyes. Please.” she unwillingly raised her gaze and their orbs met “is that why you have been avoiding me and acting so rough and cruel? Tell me.” Nikolai said softly, not to startle her
“Yes.” She admitted, her voice shaking “that and …..”
“And what?”
“I can’t say it…..”
“Then let me.” he smiled “I fell for you. the second I saw you with your fiery eyes and sparkling eyes. The moment you slapped me down with that bad girl attitude of yours. Saints, Y/N, if I knew about…..”
“You cannot tell anyone about it!” she panicked again, struggling against his hold, but he only held her closer.
“Saints, girl! I’m telling you I love you and you keep projecting. Listen to me. Just listen.” Once again, he cupped her cheek and forced her distracted eyesight on him, the other hand resting on the small of her back. “I love you.” he simply said and somehow she knew he was telling the truth.
“You are not supposed to…..” she tried to object.
“Oh, saints!” Nikolai hissed, now completely drained of patience. He was done talking. Instead he just leaned forward and captured her lips in his. Oh, he wanted to satiate his hunger of having her, but at the same time, founding about her past made him slow down a bit. So instead of devouring her fully, he settled on moving his mouth on her slowly, softly, pouring all his feelings for her into that kiss. Trying to tell her, without using words, that whatever she may have thought about him, he cared. That he wasn’t like them. That he would never hurt her. He would protect her. He wanted her all to himself. And the sight of her flirting with Tolya turned him jealous and possessive. Hoping she would feel all that, conveyed by a kiss.
And the second he touched her, he was gone. The feel of her pressed against him, the fact that he finally, finally cold have her so close, not fighting against him, not spiting and biting and bittering was just too much for the poor boy. Prince, yes, but still, a boy in love, afraid of having his heart broken and scared of rejection, no matter how indifferent he may act.
But the way her hands immediately found a way up his arms and locked on his neck, how she moved slightly towards him, hugging and kissing him back with the same fire as he did, told him that maybe, maybe¸ those feelings were not one-sided. Saints, he could not get enough of the feeling of her lips and skin, the softness of her hair tickling his face, wishing he could just hold her like that forever, but eventually they both had to pull back for air. And when they did, he opened eyes, focusing on her beautiful face. She kept her eyes closed, breathing heavily, trying to contain everything she felt at the moment and processing it.
“Y/N….” he whispered, brushing his lips over her forehead, awaiting any words from her with his heart beating rapidly, almost out of his chest.
“I…. I think I love you too.” She gasped, almost inaudibly, but he heard those words. The most beautiful words he could ever imagine.
“Of course you do. How could you not?” he laughed, but it was different than before. Not conceited or sarcastic, much rather laced with love, care and so much relief that she reciprocated.
“Stop ruining the moment!” she hit his arm, but smiled lightly and he couldn’t help but peck her lips again.
“do you think they know?” he asked, obviously referring to the rest of the crew
“Who cares about them?”
“For once, I can agree with you” he pulled her closer again, the second kiss being more heated and passionate and she did not oppose to being showered in his attention and affection, not holding his desire back.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fluff#shadow and bone x you#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone fanfic#shadow and bone fanfiction#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov fic
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A Nikolai Lantsov fic coming up soon people 👀 and it's a little special too, might I add
#fanfic#fanfiction#nikolai lanstov x reader#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai#nikolai lantsov x wife!reader#song based fic#Nikolai lantsov Masterlist#Nikolai lantsov fic#Nikolai lantsov fanfiction
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the privateer & me masterlist
The Grishaverse Trilogy by Leigh Bardugo
Nikolai Lantsov x OFC
Rating: Explicit 18+
(Based on the books despite the gif of the show)
Chapter 1
Saskia Zimová is part of the crew aboard the Volkvolny. At the annual captain's party, she gets some face time with Captain Sturmhond.
Chapter 2
Captain Sturmhond invites Saskia Zimová to a private dinner.
Chapter 3
Rumors fly after Saskia's dinner with Captain Sturmhond
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
#nikolai lanstov#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov masterlist#masterlist#fic masterlist#shadow & bone fic#the grishaverse trilogy fic#sturmhond#sturmhond fic#nikolai lantsov x ofc#sturmhond x ofc
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cannot stop making textposts😔👍🏼
(pics used aren't mine)
#3am things#books#kaz x inej#kaz brekker#kanej fic#kanej fanfiction#kanej#soc inej#inej ghafa#zoya nazyanelsky#zoyalai#nikolai x zoya#zoya nazyalensky#nikolai lantsov#no mourners no funerals#crooked kingdom#six of crows jesper#six of crows#leigh bardugo#shadow and bone#s&b show#s&b netflix#alina x darkling#alina starkov#the darkling#wylan van sunshine#wesper#jesper fahey#wylan x jesper#nina zenik
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