[ she doesn't turn to dislodge him. nikolai has never felt so small to her, trembling like his bones may break apart from the sheer force of holding himself together. one indelicate touch may very well shatter him until he's shards at her feet, until there's no hope of putting him back together without slicing herself on the jagged edges of him. and so she allows him that moment — that moment to hide himself in the veil of her hair. that moment of clutching at his forearms as if she can keep him from falling to pieces. forcing herself to become a pillar of strength when he feels his own faltering, even though there's nothing more she wants to do than turn and burrow into his chest until the ugly truth is out of sight. ]
Maybe I already do love you, broken parts and all. Maybe leaving you would tear me apart for good.
[ it's cowardly, confessing it to endless rows of dusty shelves when nikolai is right there. but more than that, it's terrifying for what it invites. to love him is to grant him power over her. to love him is to hand him the weapon and show him where to aim to destroy her, once and for all, in his bid for self-preservation. to love him is a bloodier war than what waits outside their door, but saints — the truth of it wracks through her. and for a moment, she considers that maybe she isn't alone in that. that maybe his desire to liberate her isn't born from guilt and guilt alone.
maybe it's her lonely mind grasping at that delusion for comfort. maybe it's only her weakness, melting her resolve every time he opens the door to let her in, but she needs to be certain. her fingers find his at her waist, cupping the back of his hand as her head tilts back into the perch of his shoulder. at least the only casualty in this particular war will be her heart if she's terribly, terribly wrong. ]
And I think, if you're willing to let me go — [ even though ravka needs this union. even though he is placing her happiness above its needs. even though that willingness to let her go only makes her that much certain that she's too far gone to leave, to forget what it was ever like to love him. ] — then maybe you already love me, too.
[ she can't say maybe that's what i deserve. she isn't deserving of any love — not mal's, not ravka's, not nikolai's — or any happiness born from it, but perhaps it's never been about what they deserve. ]
I'm going to ask you to make me a promise instead. Give me a real chance to be happy with you. Stop making our choices for us. Stop pushing me away every time you're afraid. Promise that we'll be partners like we should be. Trust me when I say I'll be strong for us and for Ravka when you can't be.
And when neither of us can be strong, trust that our friends will be. Trust that they won't let us lose sight of what's important. We aren't alone in this fight, Nikolai. Even when there are days where it feels like we are.
[ it's too tight, the despairing grip of her hand around his that is already bracing herself for rejection. her voice fractures with it, despite her stubborn determination to get through to him. ]
I need you to understand. I don't want a chance at happiness away from this. I want you.
[ don't love me is what he wants to say, a desperate plea that he knows comes too late to make a difference. it would've been easy to pretend that none of this existed between them despite the truth of nikolai's own feelings, because it's easy for him to bury his wants and desires and his foolish but steadfast penchant for romanticism. it's never the right time or place for any of those things, and so he's become well-versed in keeping them close to his heart but never quite letting them out for air.
alina does not share those same qualms, because now the space between them is heavy with want and broken honesty. she verbalizes everything that he's wished for, everything he feels, everything that he can't say aloud because it's never mattered if he loved someone. it hadn't mattered with dominik — his parents still sent him away, the war still claimed his life — and now he's wondering how it can possibly matter here, with alina, when everything they're facing is so much bigger than the reckless movements of his heart.
her words ring true. he wouldn't send her away if he cared so little. having her here works to ravka's advantage, but he can't be sure how much more of this he can stomach. he makes difficult decisions every day, but involving matters of the heart brings a different sort of agony, one he's already had his fill of and more. ]
And if it's not enough? [ his arms tighten around her, eyes closed as he buries his face into the curve of her neck. she smells sweetly of some fragrance dabbed across her pulse, lilac and honey, a touch of warm amber. ] If love isn't enough for us?
[ if he turns more monster than man, if he can't control this, if he ends up becoming a danger that alina has to put down — all of these he leaves unsaid but they fill the room anyway, and that doesn't even touch on how he feels as though he scarcely has the luxury of love. love isn't going to protect the people. love isn't going to save ravka. and yet he aches with his entire being to give her what she's asking for, because even if it feels like too much in this moment, he knows it doesn't even begin to cover what she deserves.
his shoulders drop around a beleaguered sigh, his hand slipping out from under hers only to cover it himself. ]
Your optimism is reckless but heartwarming. I do wonder where you picked up that particular habit from.
[ he pulls back, spinning her once as if they're still in a dance. then he takes off his sash and drapes it over her shoulder, drawing it across her chest to pin over the tear at her waist, the golden fabric gleaming in the lamplight. ]
I don't have an answer for you. I want to say yes. [ he keeps his eyes down, adjusting the sash before stepping back to survey his work. he quickly retrieves her shoes and kneels to slip them onto her feet, then looks up at her. ] But come back to our party with me so I can ask you for a proper dance. Not so everyone can see how happy we are, but because I don't want this night to end just yet.
[ it rings with hollow victory. the defeat that lines her shoulders remains, as though she doesn't dare to hope that this marks the end of pushing and pulling one another in every direction until they inevitably crumble to dust. but it doesn't feel wholly like a loss, either, no matter the hand of despair squeezing her heart in its palm. it strikes her as a truce, instead, a negotiation that's more difficult to navigate than any civil political dispute they've encountered. ]
Then at least we'll know that we tried. [ at least she will never doubt that she had clawed and struggled and bled for a love that deserves no less than someone to fight for it. even if it culminates in her destruction, perhaps it's a love worthy ruining herself for, if only to avoid living with her regrets for centuries. ] At least I won't wonder what we could have been if I had stayed.
[ the edge to her laugh is strained and quiet, a bubbling hiccup of a sound she can't prepare for, as her fingertips glide over the smooth silk of his sash. not for the first time, she envies nikolai's ability to present himself as he wishes to be seen. in contrast, she's too aware of the sight she must be, swiping at red-rimmed eyes to cleanse any evidence that she could be anything less than an ideal candidate for queen. the delegates beyond the doors of their library will be able to scent any sign of weakness like sharks pursuing blood in the water.
the last of what she needs — what ravka needs — is to pick apart their engagement to find fault with it, and wonder if the stability and morale it offers is an illusion. she tries to steady her breath, having come this close to losing him in one night, and idly sweeps her fingers through the glittering gold of his hair. ]
I learned from the best. [ no one risks crashing and burning quite like nikolai lantsov. if they can change the course of ravka's future, she can cling to her hope that they can pave their own way to another destination. she smiles, a subdued and harmlessly teasing sheen to it. ] I'll just be annoyingly stubborn about it until you say yes. I've learned that from you, too.
[ carefully, she slips her aching feet into the treacherous confines of her shoes. before he can raise himself to his feet, she grasps at the heavy fabric around her legs, moving it aside to gingerly settle into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. ]
You're going to have to carry me back. These shoes are a special kind of torture. Or — [ it's wishful thinking, but she murmurs it against his cheek, pressing her lips to the sloping bone. ] — maybe we can just hope that they're drunk enough that they won't even notice we're missing.
[ he can't help his despairing smile or the way his arms readily encircle her when she lowers herself into his lap. he feels powerless against so many things as of late, and this is simply another one — her warmth, her soft touch, the lilt of her voice, all of it makes the rapid pace of his heart feel like entirely too much, his breath quickening in response. would it be easier if she was someone he could never love? he always thought that sounded like the worst fate, marrying a stranger and putting on a show for the rest of his life, but perhaps he's even more ignorant to matters of the heart than he gave himself credit for. ]
And after all the time I spent fixing your dress, now you don't want to go back?
[ soft lips brush his cheek, and he turns into them, catching her mouth in a gentle kiss as his hand trails down her collar, past the stag's antlers and down to the center of her chest. nothing about any of this has been wise, and sometimes he wonders what would have been if he'd never come back at all, if he'd lost himself completely to the monster and nikolai lantsov ceased to exist. would ravka be better off without his endless ambition and relentless drive for change? would someone else have stepped up to fill his absence better than he ever could?
he tires of the questions and the constant wondering. his mind has always worked like a ceaselessly hyperactive machine, and for the most part he's comfortable with it, but then there are moments like these that he wishes he could just stop. stop thinking. stop wondering. stop obsessively picking apart his failures. when he kisses alina it feels like a reprieve, however unwise and fleeting, but he chases after the feeling regardless, his hand roaming to pull at the sash he just placed on her minutes ago. now it's just in the way. ]
Are you saying we should go missing like a pair of misbehaving rogues? With the way you keep trying to get out of things, I'd say you were born to be my queen.
[ he pulls her close, his back coming to rest against a shelf as he ends up on the floor again. saints, he shouldn't, but there isn't a moment that goes by that he doesn't want her, no matter what he says. his hand cradles her cheek, kissing her languidly, his head resting against a collection of leather spines. the silken fabric pools between them when he finally gets the sash off, and he pauses mid-kiss, his eyes opening to suddenly gaze into hers. ]
Don't go tomorrow. Don't go to him. Alina, I — [ he swallows, his hand sliding softly into her hair. ] I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. If you want to be partners in this, then let's start here. Don't go off alone. When we face him, it'll be together.
So sorry, moi tsar. The two minutes you spent fixing my dress must have been very arduous for you.
[ his mouth muffles her scoff, but it can't quite silence her mouthy behavior. no matter how distracted she sounds while pressing into his embrace, pressing into him as though even the smallest distance between them is too much to bear. and, in truth, it is; she's too familiar with his pattern of retreating from her to allow him an opportunity to run, caged beneath the long line of her legs cinching tighter around his hips. she's too familiar with the longing ache of missing him as if they're too ghosts passing by one another to let him go this time. ]
I've already shared you with them tonight. It's my turn to have you to myself.
[ there are too many stares piercing into their backs, making her too aware of doubters and dissenters waiting for them to falter; there are too many whispers flitting from ear to ear, and too many smiles alight with expectations she feels forced to meet. for all that it's their betrothal, it has equally belonged to ravka tonight — theirs to celebrate, and theirs to scorn. but these quiet moments, the gentle cradle of his hands, unhurried kisses that steal the last of her air — they belong solely to her, intimate and sacred and hers. free from an outsider's judgment, uninterrupted by pointless flatteries she's learned to tune out, and unhindered by every political issue ravka has felt the need to bring to their attention tonight. returning with him only provide her limited time at his side before someone tugs either of them away for a so-called pressing matter.
at least this is a memory they can claim for themselves.
if only for an hour, she can pretend this is all they are: a misbehaving boy and a rebellious girl in over their heads, hiding away from their own party. she aches to hold on to it, but nikolai's plea washes over her like an icy river that drags her away from the comfortable warmth of his embrace. her throat is already forming a noise of protest before she can silence it, choking out a breath that spills over his lips. she tilts her head back into the soft brush of his fingers to drink him in — the openness in his eyes, lips that have turned kiss-swollen — and wonders how he could ever expect that she could find the willpower to leave him now. ]
Even if you have to live with this? [ she drags his hand away from her sternum and lifts it to her mouth, brushing her lips to each leather-clad fingertip and sealing it with a nip of her teeth. he's already declared as much to her tonight, but nikolai's desire to risk his chance at freedom to ensure her own is too much for her heart to comprehend when there's no guarantee they'll find another means to access the information they need. ] I won't go. I won't. But I promised you that I would find a way to make things right, Nikolai. What if I can't? What if I fail and that that never happens?
Well, I certainly can't blame you for wanting to skip out on the rest of the party.
[ nikolai is used to the scrutiny, the comments whispered behind his back, the weight of hundreds of stares each with their own expectations and preconceived notions. it's quite another thing to be thrust into the role with little training, and a grisha queen certainly has tongues flapping. there will come a time when alina has no choice but to traverse the treachery of public events, but tonight she does have a choice, and nikolai doesn't mind being it.
the reality that he might have to live with this for the rest of his life is a thought he's already spent countless sleepless nights turning over in his mind, but he doesn't let it show on his face. he keeps that tucked somewhere below his heart with the rest of his insecurities that need not see the light of day. this is a curse, a punishment doled out by a very powerful grisha, and it wouldn't be much of a punishment if it was easily broken. he knows this. he knows they might never break it. he knows there's a good chance he will devolve into madness and have to be put down, but tonight he doesn't air out those concerns. not when he plainly sees that alina needs the same reassurance that she's granted him.
there's a glimmer of a smile on his lips when he tucks her hair behind her ear and traces the curve of her jaw with a gloved fingertip, soft leather instead of the rough tread of his own fingers. ]
Failure is simply adventure by another name. [ there's only the slightest trace of tension in his gaze, otherwise looking serene. ] And if I have to live with this, then I'll do just that. I excel at most things and I don't see why this should be an exception.
[ spoken with a confidence he doesn't feel, but there's little he despises more than showing weakness when he truly feels it. he draws her in carefully, lifting his mouth to gently brush a kiss to her forehead. ]
You didn't do this to me, Alina. He did. [ he feels the monster stirring again, and he closes his eyes to face the darkness. ] You did what you needed to do in the moment. Trust me when I say you have far too many pressures to withstand in the future for you to give yourself any more. It's not your job to save me. I need you to be the queen that Ravka needs, no matter what else happens. That's your priority. It's what my mother and father were always missing, same as the Lantsovs that came before them. But not us.
[ he settles his hands at her waist, his smile growing because he can't help but think of how achingly lovely she looks. ] Moya tsaritsa. We won't miss.
[ it's such a distinctive nikolai lantsov speech, steady and cocksure, that she isn't certain he believes it himself. he weaves his words with a precision she's always lacked — like merzost on his tongue, too hypnotizing and capable of knowing what a heart wants to hear most for her to ever discern if it's the raw, unguarded truth. but in this moment, she's nothing short of grateful for it. even if it's a lie he's spun together with a silver tongue, even if it's a myth he's created just to comfort her, it brings her war-torn mind the peace she's been searching for.
or maybe it's the appearance of his smile — a rare and mythical sight, these days, when they have so few reasons to smile — that dispels her fear and stills her tongue and all of the self-punishing statements she wants to use to flagellate herself: he did this to you because of me. i don't know if i can be the queen ravka needs without you. nikolai has been a constant presence at her back, lifting her when she stumbles, guiding her when she comes to a crossroads and finds herself utterly lost. the only companion she has that fully comprehends what it's like to live with that fear of failure and duty dangling over them like a sword above their heads — waiting to drop at any moment.
she doesn't know if she possesses the knowledge to hold ravka together, should they lose him, and the thought of undoing every step forward he has taken to usher in a new era is as daunting as facing the darkling. as far as alina is concerned, nikolai is the very embodiment of ravka. but she can't bear to be the reason the expression on his face disappears and turns haunted, and so she traces the dimples of his smile with slow, careful reverence and hopes he can feel the gratitude that bleeds from her when she slides her mouth over his palm. ]
I don't think I'm ever going to get used to being called that.
[ her nose scrunches as if to ward off the little flutter of warmth that passes through her upon hearing it, or the glow that flushes through her skin. perhaps the issue should be that she enjoys it too much. ]
As long as you don't regret choosing me, I can live with all of that. Even if I know there are going to be days where you'll drive me completely mad. [ her fingers wind through the silken sash draped between them, looping it around his neck — and tugging, in a silent command to draw him into her. the touch of her kiss is teasingly, fleetingly soft. ] You really have no idea how much I've missed being driven mad by you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Maybe I already do love you, broken parts and all. Maybe leaving you would tear me apart for good.
[ it's cowardly, confessing it to endless rows of dusty shelves when nikolai is right there. but more than that, it's terrifying for what it invites. to love him is to grant him power over her. to love him is to hand him the weapon and show him where to aim to destroy her, once and for all, in his bid for self-preservation. to love him is a bloodier war than what waits outside their door, but saints — the truth of it wracks through her. and for a moment, she considers that maybe she isn't alone in that. that maybe his desire to liberate her isn't born from guilt and guilt alone.
maybe it's her lonely mind grasping at that delusion for comfort. maybe it's only her weakness, melting her resolve every time he opens the door to let her in, but she needs to be certain. her fingers find his at her waist, cupping the back of his hand as her head tilts back into the perch of his shoulder. at least the only casualty in this particular war will be her heart if she's terribly, terribly wrong. ]
And I think, if you're willing to let me go — [ even though ravka needs this union. even though he is placing her happiness above its needs. even though that willingness to let her go only makes her that much certain that she's too far gone to leave, to forget what it was ever like to love him. ] — then maybe you already love me, too.
[ she can't say maybe that's what i deserve. she isn't deserving of any love — not mal's, not ravka's, not nikolai's — or any happiness born from it, but perhaps it's never been about what they deserve. ]
I'm going to ask you to make me a promise instead. Give me a real chance to be happy with you. Stop making our choices for us. Stop pushing me away every time you're afraid. Promise that we'll be partners like we should be. Trust me when I say I'll be strong for us and for Ravka when you can't be.
And when neither of us can be strong, trust that our friends will be. Trust that they won't let us lose sight of what's important. We aren't alone in this fight, Nikolai. Even when there are days where it feels like we are.
[ it's too tight, the despairing grip of her hand around his that is already bracing herself for rejection. her voice fractures with it, despite her stubborn determination to get through to him. ]
I need you to understand. I don't want a chance at happiness away from this. I want you.
no subject
alina does not share those same qualms, because now the space between them is heavy with want and broken honesty. she verbalizes everything that he's wished for, everything he feels, everything that he can't say aloud because it's never mattered if he loved someone. it hadn't mattered with dominik — his parents still sent him away, the war still claimed his life — and now he's wondering how it can possibly matter here, with alina, when everything they're facing is so much bigger than the reckless movements of his heart.
her words ring true. he wouldn't send her away if he cared so little. having her here works to ravka's advantage, but he can't be sure how much more of this he can stomach. he makes difficult decisions every day, but involving matters of the heart brings a different sort of agony, one he's already had his fill of and more. ]
And if it's not enough? [ his arms tighten around her, eyes closed as he buries his face into the curve of her neck. she smells sweetly of some fragrance dabbed across her pulse, lilac and honey, a touch of warm amber. ] If love isn't enough for us?
[ if he turns more monster than man, if he can't control this, if he ends up becoming a danger that alina has to put down — all of these he leaves unsaid but they fill the room anyway, and that doesn't even touch on how he feels as though he scarcely has the luxury of love. love isn't going to protect the people. love isn't going to save ravka. and yet he aches with his entire being to give her what she's asking for, because even if it feels like too much in this moment, he knows it doesn't even begin to cover what she deserves.
his shoulders drop around a beleaguered sigh, his hand slipping out from under hers only to cover it himself. ]
Your optimism is reckless but heartwarming. I do wonder where you picked up that particular habit from.
[ he pulls back, spinning her once as if they're still in a dance. then he takes off his sash and drapes it over her shoulder, drawing it across her chest to pin over the tear at her waist, the golden fabric gleaming in the lamplight. ]
I don't have an answer for you. I want to say yes. [ he keeps his eyes down, adjusting the sash before stepping back to survey his work. he quickly retrieves her shoes and kneels to slip them onto her feet, then looks up at her. ] But come back to our party with me so I can ask you for a proper dance. Not so everyone can see how happy we are, but because I don't want this night to end just yet.
no subject
Then at least we'll know that we tried. [ at least she will never doubt that she had clawed and struggled and bled for a love that deserves no less than someone to fight for it. even if it culminates in her destruction, perhaps it's a love worthy ruining herself for, if only to avoid living with her regrets for centuries. ] At least I won't wonder what we could have been if I had stayed.
[ the edge to her laugh is strained and quiet, a bubbling hiccup of a sound she can't prepare for, as her fingertips glide over the smooth silk of his sash. not for the first time, she envies nikolai's ability to present himself as he wishes to be seen. in contrast, she's too aware of the sight she must be, swiping at red-rimmed eyes to cleanse any evidence that she could be anything less than an ideal candidate for queen. the delegates beyond the doors of their library will be able to scent any sign of weakness like sharks pursuing blood in the water.
the last of what she needs — what ravka needs — is to pick apart their engagement to find fault with it, and wonder if the stability and morale it offers is an illusion. she tries to steady her breath, having come this close to losing him in one night, and idly sweeps her fingers through the glittering gold of his hair. ]
I learned from the best. [ no one risks crashing and burning quite like nikolai lantsov. if they can change the course of ravka's future, she can cling to her hope that they can pave their own way to another destination. she smiles, a subdued and harmlessly teasing sheen to it. ] I'll just be annoyingly stubborn about it until you say yes. I've learned that from you, too.
[ carefully, she slips her aching feet into the treacherous confines of her shoes. before he can raise himself to his feet, she grasps at the heavy fabric around her legs, moving it aside to gingerly settle into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. ]
You're going to have to carry me back. These shoes are a special kind of torture. Or — [ it's wishful thinking, but she murmurs it against his cheek, pressing her lips to the sloping bone. ] — maybe we can just hope that they're drunk enough that they won't even notice we're missing.
no subject
And after all the time I spent fixing your dress, now you don't want to go back?
[ soft lips brush his cheek, and he turns into them, catching her mouth in a gentle kiss as his hand trails down her collar, past the stag's antlers and down to the center of her chest. nothing about any of this has been wise, and sometimes he wonders what would have been if he'd never come back at all, if he'd lost himself completely to the monster and nikolai lantsov ceased to exist. would ravka be better off without his endless ambition and relentless drive for change? would someone else have stepped up to fill his absence better than he ever could?
he tires of the questions and the constant wondering. his mind has always worked like a ceaselessly hyperactive machine, and for the most part he's comfortable with it, but then there are moments like these that he wishes he could just stop. stop thinking. stop wondering. stop obsessively picking apart his failures. when he kisses alina it feels like a reprieve, however unwise and fleeting, but he chases after the feeling regardless, his hand roaming to pull at the sash he just placed on her minutes ago. now it's just in the way. ]
Are you saying we should go missing like a pair of misbehaving rogues? With the way you keep trying to get out of things, I'd say you were born to be my queen.
[ he pulls her close, his back coming to rest against a shelf as he ends up on the floor again. saints, he shouldn't, but there isn't a moment that goes by that he doesn't want her, no matter what he says. his hand cradles her cheek, kissing her languidly, his head resting against a collection of leather spines. the silken fabric pools between them when he finally gets the sash off, and he pauses mid-kiss, his eyes opening to suddenly gaze into hers. ]
Don't go tomorrow. Don't go to him. Alina, I — [ he swallows, his hand sliding softly into her hair. ] I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. If you want to be partners in this, then let's start here. Don't go off alone. When we face him, it'll be together.
no subject
[ his mouth muffles her scoff, but it can't quite silence her mouthy behavior. no matter how distracted she sounds while pressing into his embrace, pressing into him as though even the smallest distance between them is too much to bear. and, in truth, it is; she's too familiar with his pattern of retreating from her to allow him an opportunity to run, caged beneath the long line of her legs cinching tighter around his hips. she's too familiar with the longing ache of missing him as if they're too ghosts passing by one another to let him go this time. ]
I've already shared you with them tonight. It's my turn to have you to myself.
[ there are too many stares piercing into their backs, making her too aware of doubters and dissenters waiting for them to falter; there are too many whispers flitting from ear to ear, and too many smiles alight with expectations she feels forced to meet. for all that it's their betrothal, it has equally belonged to ravka tonight — theirs to celebrate, and theirs to scorn. but these quiet moments, the gentle cradle of his hands, unhurried kisses that steal the last of her air — they belong solely to her, intimate and sacred and hers. free from an outsider's judgment, uninterrupted by pointless flatteries she's learned to tune out, and unhindered by every political issue ravka has felt the need to bring to their attention tonight. returning with him only provide her limited time at his side before someone tugs either of them away for a so-called pressing matter.
at least this is a memory they can claim for themselves.
if only for an hour, she can pretend this is all they are: a misbehaving boy and a rebellious girl in over their heads, hiding away from their own party. she aches to hold on to it, but nikolai's plea washes over her like an icy river that drags her away from the comfortable warmth of his embrace. her throat is already forming a noise of protest before she can silence it, choking out a breath that spills over his lips. she tilts her head back into the soft brush of his fingers to drink him in — the openness in his eyes, lips that have turned kiss-swollen — and wonders how he could ever expect that she could find the willpower to leave him now. ]
Even if you have to live with this? [ she drags his hand away from her sternum and lifts it to her mouth, brushing her lips to each leather-clad fingertip and sealing it with a nip of her teeth. he's already declared as much to her tonight, but nikolai's desire to risk his chance at freedom to ensure her own is too much for her heart to comprehend when there's no guarantee they'll find another means to access the information they need. ] I won't go. I won't. But I promised you that I would find a way to make things right, Nikolai. What if I can't? What if I fail and that that never happens?
[ what if you hate me for that? ]
no subject
[ nikolai is used to the scrutiny, the comments whispered behind his back, the weight of hundreds of stares each with their own expectations and preconceived notions. it's quite another thing to be thrust into the role with little training, and a grisha queen certainly has tongues flapping. there will come a time when alina has no choice but to traverse the treachery of public events, but tonight she does have a choice, and nikolai doesn't mind being it.
the reality that he might have to live with this for the rest of his life is a thought he's already spent countless sleepless nights turning over in his mind, but he doesn't let it show on his face. he keeps that tucked somewhere below his heart with the rest of his insecurities that need not see the light of day. this is a curse, a punishment doled out by a very powerful grisha, and it wouldn't be much of a punishment if it was easily broken. he knows this. he knows they might never break it. he knows there's a good chance he will devolve into madness and have to be put down, but tonight he doesn't air out those concerns. not when he plainly sees that alina needs the same reassurance that she's granted him.
there's a glimmer of a smile on his lips when he tucks her hair behind her ear and traces the curve of her jaw with a gloved fingertip, soft leather instead of the rough tread of his own fingers. ]
Failure is simply adventure by another name. [ there's only the slightest trace of tension in his gaze, otherwise looking serene. ] And if I have to live with this, then I'll do just that. I excel at most things and I don't see why this should be an exception.
[ spoken with a confidence he doesn't feel, but there's little he despises more than showing weakness when he truly feels it. he draws her in carefully, lifting his mouth to gently brush a kiss to her forehead. ]
You didn't do this to me, Alina. He did. [ he feels the monster stirring again, and he closes his eyes to face the darkness. ] You did what you needed to do in the moment. Trust me when I say you have far too many pressures to withstand in the future for you to give yourself any more. It's not your job to save me. I need you to be the queen that Ravka needs, no matter what else happens. That's your priority. It's what my mother and father were always missing, same as the Lantsovs that came before them. But not us.
[ he settles his hands at her waist, his smile growing because he can't help but think of how achingly lovely she looks. ] Moya tsaritsa. We won't miss.
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or maybe it's the appearance of his smile — a rare and mythical sight, these days, when they have so few reasons to smile — that dispels her fear and stills her tongue and all of the self-punishing statements she wants to use to flagellate herself: he did this to you because of me. i don't know if i can be the queen ravka needs without you. nikolai has been a constant presence at her back, lifting her when she stumbles, guiding her when she comes to a crossroads and finds herself utterly lost. the only companion she has that fully comprehends what it's like to live with that fear of failure and duty dangling over them like a sword above their heads — waiting to drop at any moment.
she doesn't know if she possesses the knowledge to hold ravka together, should they lose him, and the thought of undoing every step forward he has taken to usher in a new era is as daunting as facing the darkling. as far as alina is concerned, nikolai is the very embodiment of ravka. but she can't bear to be the reason the expression on his face disappears and turns haunted, and so she traces the dimples of his smile with slow, careful reverence and hopes he can feel the gratitude that bleeds from her when she slides her mouth over his palm. ]
I don't think I'm ever going to get used to being called that.
[ her nose scrunches as if to ward off the little flutter of warmth that passes through her upon hearing it, or the glow that flushes through her skin. perhaps the issue should be that she enjoys it too much. ]
As long as you don't regret choosing me, I can live with all of that. Even if I know there are going to be days where you'll drive me completely mad. [ her fingers wind through the silken sash draped between them, looping it around his neck — and tugging, in a silent command to draw him into her. the touch of her kiss is teasingly, fleetingly soft. ] You really have no idea how much I've missed being driven mad by you.