ravkas: (Default)
𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐢 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐨𝐯 ([personal profile] ravkas) wrote2020-10-17 06:41 pm
peasant: (1 (49))

[personal profile] peasant 2020-10-22 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ The insecurity doesn't escape her notice, through no fault of his own. Even keener ears would miss the sting of uncertainty, but Alina is too practiced in her own, too used to poisoning herself with a dose of doubt. And so she doesn't submit to her urge to smile, only granting him a soft tilt of her mouth when she insists, ]

I think we're all just the right amount of crazy.

[ A ruler's followers are a reflection on them, she wants to reassure; he has Zoya's drive at his side, David's ingenuity, Genya's compassion — but what does that say of her and the Apparat's obsessive, stifling faith as he had propped her onto a pedestal? Nikolai's closeness is a distraction to that thought, bringing the warm notes of alcohol on his breath with it, the imagined sting of salt in the air; she leans into it too readily, propping her chin on their joined hands. ]

Everyone feels brave when they have people worth losing.

[ It's not truly an answer. In fact, it's an answer he has taught her to give, skirting around the heart of what troubles her. She is keenly aware of it, her jaw working as she searches for the words that struggle to come. As absent as his jealousy is now, one wrong word feels as though it could shatter the peace of an otherwise quiet moment.

What a pair they make, with a piece of his heart residing in a dead man's grip while a piece of her own rests in Mal's grasp.
]

He makes me feel real. Like I'm still just Alina, even if I know it's not true anymore. No one survives what we have without becoming something else.

[ Maybe clinging to him is her method of pretending: pretending that nothing has changed, pretending that they're still the same people. It doesn't change what is constantly, undeniably true: even after all these years, having Mal at her side makes her feel as if everything in the world will be alright, so long as they're together. ]

Sorry. [ When it comes, her smile is tight, but no less sincere. ] You can't actually want to hear any of this.
peasant: (1 (5))

[personal profile] peasant 2020-10-22 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Swallowing the doubts that want to spill out of her is like swallowing glass shards, slicing her insides on the journey down. Will I? Nikolai is as blind to the darkness slithering through her, an infection time hasn't purged, as the others — because she has left them that way, obscured their eyes with shadows, for fear they will turn away the instant she loses her shine.

The instant she's eclipsed by something else entirely, that plague inside of her that has gone too far. That side of her that will inevitably go too far again. The scarred wound across her shoulder blade throbs as if in agreement, now that she can think of nothing else but the shadows cast along the walls.

It's too much to add to their growing pile of shared secrets, when they've only just broached the topic of lost loves.
]

It shaped you into a pirate.

[ If there was any question of whether she was going to let him have the last word in that particular volley. The curve of her smile grows against her will, a glint that's too telling; for all that she's mastered the art of pretenses, there are too many tics that threaten to give her away. Glimmering eyes are, certainly, one of them — shining with mirth that reveals how deliberately annoying she's trying to be.

Maybe it has something to do with the shadows that have lifted from his expression; maybe it's the sudden lightness in her own, as though he's removed a veil, simply by proclaiming he wants to know her when it would be so easy to dress her up as a queen to meet his expectations. Nothing less, nothing more.
]

If you touched anything I made, you would die. Not even a stray would drink or eat anything that's been in my hands. Then again — [ The tilt of her head subconsciously mimics his, considering. ] I think you're starting to enjoy the thought of me causing bodily harm, if you're asking questions like that.
peasant: (1 (56))

[personal profile] peasant 2020-10-23 06:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ It wouldn't be so terrible, she tells herself, to never be rid of him. It's a dangerous thought to entertain, but no more perilous than the inevitable silence that consumes her chambers at night. Each day, she eagerly imagines returning to it, and each night she regrets the emptiness that greets her. Freed from her duties until the morning sun rises, but never free from the thoughts that follow her, waiting until she's alone to strike.

But it shouldn't be the allure of losing themselves in a bottle that convinces him to stay as her good luck charm, emptying her thoughts of doubts and deaths and devastation. So much of it lives on in her memories alongside the ghosts of all they've lost, but this — this is a moment she would prefer to remember without a haze of alcohol clouding its edges. The bottle scrapes along stone as she pushes it aside, a temptation hidden from view, and shakes her head with a quiet, hoarse laugh.
]

Your love for danger might be your downfall one day.

[ In another life, in another time, she would fumble and fluster and flush. Here and now, she lets herself be swept away by his own courage, the boldness she sometimes envies and covets in equal measure — even if there is a rush of blood to her face, still, that she can't shake. Even if her teeth worry at her lip, wondering how much of this is Nikolai's teasing versus sincere curiosity.

But she had claimed he made others brave, and it's time to make good on that claim — and to surprise him by refusing to submit to embarrassment, if nothing else, no matter how inexperienced she may be.
]

I think I could enjoy it, with the right person. [ It's impossible not to feel self-conscious, pinned as she is by his attentive eyes, but she slowly brings herself to meet his gaze. ] I don't know. I'd have to try it to find out, wouldn't I? Not all of us are enlightened and worldly privateers.