i gotta say, I enjoyed myself (even if it lacked a healthy amount of nikolai). it's also the one with the plot that's more fresh in my mind because well. the show. idk if that had something to do with it or not
i remember disliking alina and mal but they weren't that bad. she's fine, honestly, and mal is okay. I guess.
very excited for book 2 because nikolai my beloved <3 and also because I remember nothing
also yeah. gramps. he's such a little shit (derrogatory), but at least he's a fun villain
Isnât the status of Grisha much worse after TGT. How are the Righteous Gang claiming to be victors/heroes who made others lives better. From my pov, grisha are much worse off while the otkazatsya are in status quo. Also what was wrong with the grisha coming to LP to live. From the books, it seems that none of them had any connection to their parents/relatives. If so that can also mean that their family did not care enough to reach out to them after they left.
Or did the Darkling ban all communications.
Iâm sure the Righteous Gang think that all the cons of their dumb decisions are in fact the Darklings fault. You know because he did this or he did that. They do bot think for a single moment that he was the only one doing anything for them. While the soldat sol (shouldnât they have been doing some charity work in name of their Saint?) and all other grisha did not lift a single finger to elevate the position of grisha in Ravka through ANY means.
Ironically, the Gang's decision to abolish Grisha draft should serve to further alienate Ravkan commoners and destabilize Nikolai's reign.
"... His serfs will get a taste of money and education and start thinking about building lives and businesses of their own instead of praying for their masterâs patronage. ... "
King of Scars- Chapter 11
Nikolai had abolished the practice of separating Grisha from their parents. There was no mandatory draft to pull children from their homes.
Rule of Wolves- Chapter 9
The fact they aren't able to offer protection to any Grisha in Ravka, therefore hardly to children scattered all over the country, AND there's no system of home education, therefore these children might either hurt someone by accident or suffer from wasting sickness, aside...
This should be a gigantic legal issue.
(Although there's plenty of questions regarding servitude in general.)
Pre-KoS Grisha automatically became serfs. Their families were compensated financially.
Let's say Grisha are no longer required to move to Little Palace, otherwise everything stays the same. Are there lists of Grisha serfs to keep track of them? And how do they serve? Why should a family that keeps the amount of pairs of working hands get any money? Does it mean that a family of free- albeit poor- peasants, suddenly include a child serf with obligations of their own? Do these "free-range" serfs get personal assignments? That sounds like a whole lot of extra bureaucracy.
The other option is much more disasterous. If Grisha are no longer serfs, there's no reason to pay their families. They should be recorded the same way other free Ravkans are, and these records don't seem to be particularly meticulous:
Another [Ravkan Grisha] had been hidden in a root cellar when the Grisha Examiners arrived to test her.
âMy mother told them Iâd been killed by the fever that had swept through our village the previous spring,â the Tidemaker said. âThe neighbors cut my hair and passed me off as their dead otkazatâsya son until I was old enough to leave.â
Siege and Storm- Chapter 7
A year here, a year there... who'll know if the missing Grisha moved away, died or got kidnapped? But don't worry, the worst is yet to come- otkazat'sya (serfs). Why are Grisha freed as soon as three of theirs start whispering their advices into young King's ear (One of them rumoured to be his mistress to boot!), while common Ravkans keep bending their backs under nobility's jeweled slippers!
This is a starving, war-torn country, through which a wave of pogroms swept only a few years back! The hatred won't disappear only because a dead Saint allegedly appointed three of Grisha to what exactly? Represent? Or rule in the puppet-King's stead?
Sure, Nikolai's (strange, innovatory) reforms lead to more food for the poor... BUT- serfs are still property of their owners, unlike Grisha. West was somehow forced to remain with the East- feeding them, losing money to them. Nobles lost some privilages and whoever's not a complete baffoon will figure out they're losing power. Church should be pissed, because their leader got deposed, religious cult with Crown-appointed head took over and Nikolai cut their incomes too! Anyone even slightly distrustful towards Grisha- and that means all through Ravkan social strata- has every reason to believe they are running the country, which no longer means one black boogeyman, but a Suli whore with the King-killer.
_____
Members of Second Army weren't discouraged from staying in touch with their families, quite contrary. To make it more... well, to make it more KoS-ish, we get some specific data from Zoya:
Sheâd written every week to her aunt and every week received a long, newsy letter back with drawings of chickens in the corners and tales of the interesting traders who came through Novokribirsk.
King of Scars- Chapter 25
Ivan doesn't mention his family in present time, but I'd like to imagine he used to visit his widowed, almost childless mother until she died of old age.
_____
The only reason all those barely adult Grisha are even theoretically allowed to be teenagers, is that they're safe enough, thanks to Aleksander's work.
He was thirteen, but heâd had a hundred names, a new one for every town, camp, and city ... He would have lived next door to a garbage gully if it meant a roof over his head, hot meals, waking up in the same room every morning without his heart hammering as he tried to remember where he was. ... Grisha living in camps and broken-down mines, hiding out in tunnels. ... No safe place. No haven. There will be, he promised in the darkness, new words written upon his heart. I will make one.
Demon in the Wood
If Grisha are faring better at the beginning of Shadow and Bone, it's his doing:
... though it was smaller than the Grand Palace, the âLittleâ Palace was still huge. It rose from the trees surrounding it like something carved from an enchanted forest, a cluster of dark wood walls and golden domes. As we drew closer, I saw that every inch of it was covered in intricate carvings of birds and flowers, twisting vines, and magical beasts.
...
We passed door after door, until finally we reached a chamber where another uniformed maid stood waiting by an open doorway.
Dimly, I registered a large room, heavy golden curtains, a fire burning in a beautifully tiled grate, but all I really cared about was the huge canopied bed.
âCan I get you anything? Something to eat?â asked the woman.
Shadow and Bone- Chapter 5
While I can "excuse" some of the "heroes"- victim of otkazat'sya brainwashing institution, unloved privilaged kid with saviour complex, bigoted religious fanatics due to questionable parenting, universal punching bag... LB's new best girl's somehow coming out of it as the worst one.
Just the fact Zoya was saved by the very law she didn't mind abolishing, going from starving asset of her own mother to well-fed, respected soldier, who knows what do sable and silks look like... what a horrible life to lead! Such deterioration! If only the Darkling didn't bother trying, she'd be free to scrape along as she pleases!
Centuries worth of Aleksander's efforts are the reason Zoya gets to whine about her suicidal aunt instead of being maritally raped by some ancient creep, or outright dead after getting pregnant way too young.
(previously on grishava and the druskelle who fell in love with her)
âAva.â Â
Beatriceâs voice sounds behind her, calm amongst the storm of Lilith and Camila and the Solday Sol all fighting to hold off the volcra and the nichevoâya, calm like the darkling isnât moments away from killing them all, calm like she has been since the day they found out that she always the firebird, always the third amplifier, always made to die at Avaâs hand, and Avaâs eyes close without her permission.
âNo.â She doesnât turn, doesnât open her eyes. âIâm not--â
âYou have to.â Beatrice is in front of her suddenly, hands on her shoulders, then the side of her neck, her cheeks. Thumbs stroke over her cheekbones and Avaâs breath tangles in her chest, hands curling around Beatriceâs wrists. âItâs the only way to stop him.â
âNo.â Ava shakes her head, fingers latching too tight around Beatriceâs wrists, and wrenches her eyes open. âI wonât--â
âYou have to,â Beatrice says softly. Without her druskelle uniform she could almost be anyone, a Ravkan girl without a destiny who Ava could build a home and a life with, someone with a quiet future and a long life ahead of her instead of a sacrificial end. Someone who isnât the firebird, someone who Ava doesnât have to sacrifice to save the rest of the world. âYou know you have to end this.â
Someone screams, a Soldat Sol or one of the darklingâs oprichniki-- thereâs no telling who-- but Ava barely hears it because one of Beatriceâs hands has dropped from her face and produced a blade. Thereâs a wolfâs head carved into the hilt, the only piece of Fjerda Beatrice had been unwilling to part with, a token to her old life that sheâd fashioned to accompany the grisha steel blade that the fabrikators had made for her in her role as Avaâs protector, her partner, the one who stood at her back time and again throughout this war.
Beatrice pries one of Avaâs hands away from her own wrist, never looking away. Thereâs a wistful set to her mouth, a stubborn glint in her eyes, as she wraps first one, then the other, of Avaâs hands around the hilt and turns the blade towards her own chest. Her hands, familiar and calloused and steady, cover Avaâs and lock them in place.
âNo,â Ava says again, and again, cracking and desperate, her hands shaking. Beatrice is steady, like always, holding the blade in place where itâs tilted up, perfectly positioned to slide between her ribs and up behind her sternum, straight into her own heart. âBeatrice--â
âJer molle pe oonet,â Beatrice says, Fjerdan rolling off her tongue, and Avaâs entire body rebels. Â
âDonât you dare,â she grinds out, seething, fury overwriting the gaping horror at the fact that Beatrice is right and Avaâs always known it, that without the third amplifier she canât stop the darkling, canât tear down the fold, canât deliver Ravka from the unsea and the volcra and the crippling darkness itâs been mired in for centuries. Ava knows that itâs Beatrice or the rest of the world, but even knowing it canât make her push the dagger forward. âWeâll find another--â
âJer molle pe oonet,â Beatrice says again, the druskelle oath a promise and an apology, a goodbye Ava isnât ready to accept yet. A thumb strokes along the tension in Avaâs hands, an uncharacteristic tremble making itself known. Â âI have been made to protect you, Sankta Ava.â
Her eyes shine and Avaâs fingers itch to touch, to thumb away the tears starting to leak out over a constellation of freckles Ava has long since memorized, but Beatriceâs grip is too strong. Light burns in Avaâs hands, under her skin, the power in her bones reacting to the ache in her chest, as if the same power that got them to this point can save her from having to sacrifice Beatrice. Â
She smiles, small and stubborn and sad, and Avaâs chest cracks open at the sight of it. âI wish weâd had more time,â Beatrice says softly. âBut Iâm happy to have known you, Ava Silva.â
âBeatrice,â Ava says, wavering and breaking. If Beatrice had called her saint again, had offered herself to a title instead of a person, Ava might have found a way to stop it, to throw the blade away, to throw it all away, but Beatrice says her name like a benediction offered, a promise she wants to fulfill, and it shatters in Avaâs chest and freezes her in place. Her eyes burn from the desert sands whipping around them, Lilithâs power shielding them from the fight.
Beatrice nods once and then tightens her hold on Avaâs hands. She breathes in, visible, audible, holding the breath in her lungs, and closes her eyes, tilts her head towards the glow of Avaâs power as it surrounds them. Ava gathers light desperately in her chest,in the hands locked around the hilt of the dagger and in Beatriceâs hold, as if this time she can burn bright enough on her own to tear down the fold.
âYou can always find me in the dark,â Beatrice says, a promise she canât possibly keep, eyes glinting in the warmth of Avaâs light. A broken pathetic noise cracks in Avaâs throat, and Beatrice nods once and then yanks, driving the dagger into her own chest.
Beatrice coughs, once, blood in her teeth, and collapses. Ava falls with her, drowning in a shrieking screaming noise that surely canât possibly be coming from her own mouth. Blood spills out of Beatriceâs chest, warm and terrible, and Ava barely manages to crumple in time with Beatriceâs dying body, to get one bloody hand behind her head and cradle it on the way down, as if Beatrice isnât dead before she hits the ground.
Heat wells in Avaâs veins, in her bones, pouring into her palms and aching to escape, a cataclysm of pain and loss and fury ready to erupt, because Beatrice is dead and Avaâs the one who killed her. Â
Her scream as she crouches over Beatriceâs body distracts Lilith, and the whirlwind around them falters for just a moment, just long enough for a nichevoâya to dive shrieking towards them; Ava barely notices the way it evaporates with a screech when it gets close. The light builds and builds and builds, a crescendo with no endpoint in sight, heating until the pain of it under her skin nearly overwhelms the pain at the fact that Beatrice is dead, and then explodes out of her.
I have loved your other metas. Can I make a request too? I wanted you to analyse the Grisha vows with respect to Aleksander and Alina. No problem if not. Good day.
Of course you can!
Literally anyone can ask me anything and there's nothing to be shy about. â€ïž
So. We're finally doing this, huh?đ„Č
We're going to analyze THAT scene?đ„Č
I'm assuming you mean Aleksander's and "Alina's" funeral (if that's not the scene you mean then please tell me!đ) and I'm not gonna lie, I was avoiding writing a meta about it because it's SO painfulđ«
But at the same time I've got some things to say here as well.
(Btw, I had already made two drafts about this scene commenting on some things. HOW DO YOU GUYS ALWAYS KNOW WHAT I'M SECRETLY CREATING??đđ¶âđ«ïž. But now that I'll write a meta about this scene, I won't post them until many, many weeks later)
Okay. Not gonna stall anymore. Let's do this.đ„Č
Gonna start from here because I don't have anything to say about the previous lines (but if there's something in particular you want me to analyze before this, dear anon, then just say soâ€ïž).
This line by itself is extremely sad.
The imagery that comes to your mind.
After four hundred years of existence full of war and battles, the Darkling is dead.
And Alina could easily say "You know what? Burn his body somewhere else. Not beside mine."
No, she wanted their bodies to burn side by side.
That says a lot by itself.
When a fan asked Bardugo who truly tended to the Darkling's body, the latter refused to answer saying that she's leaving that for the readers to guess.
My personal guess, after what happened in Nikolai's duology, is Sankta Elizaveta. If the duology never existed then I would say a random otkazat'sya woman. I don't know, it just fits.
Apart from this, it's really heartbreaking how here the Darkling is described neither as a powerful Grisha nor as a cunning warrior. But as a handsome boy that fell in battle and now in death he looks so innocent. So peaceful at last.
And Alina wants to know. Cares to know. Who treated him so gently?
Just like I said before, Alina decided this. Not for the people, not for Nikolai, not for Mal.
But for herself. And I bet for the Darkling too. Perhaps she didn't want him to be alone in his funeral pyre either. đ„Č
The crowd was complaining 'cause for them the Darkling was the villain, the man that frightened them and put them through too much.
What did an evil man do to deserve a funeral pyre beside a Saint that was so beloved and revered?
But for Alina (right now) he is just the boy Aleksander Morozova and he deserves this funeral alongside her body.
I'm kinda confused here.
I understand why the Soldat Sol attended the funeral since they were devoted to the Sun Saint but I expected for the Grisha to be mentioned more here.
Two of their leaders are dead.
The Darkling, that was their General for God-knows-how-many-years, and Alina, who also led them from a point afterwards.
I'm not saying that I expected them to mourn the Darkling. But where are the Etherealki? The order that the late Aleksander and "late" Alina also belonged to? They should be at the front lines, right?
Why aren't the Grisha mentioned at all in this scene?
(I swear Leigh created the Grisha, gave them a sad, violent history and then threw them into the binđ)
Also, I wouldn't be surprised if some Grisha really felt sad about the Darkling's death. For some he really represented an end to the constant Ravkan wars and bloodshed. The man that would give them freedom from all of these. He was their safety, their leader, a guardian even. And the fact that so many (supposed) Darklings existed for centuries now, that feeling of safety was only enhanced 'cause he was a constant presence to the Grisha's side.
It's kinda cringe to me that these people mourn Alina even though they had never truly known her. They had touched her and prayed to her name but they didn't know her truly. As a person. They mourn an idol.
Also, the fact that Alina doesn't want to be recognized particularly from the Apparat. If she still had her powers she would use the Cut to him LMAO Those bitter feelings haven't left her. (And I agree with her, he was a creep and a jerk).
(Also, how the FUCK is Nikolai immaculate 24/7?? NIKOLAI WHAT'S YOUR HAIR AND SKINCARE ROUTINE??đđ)
It's kinda sweet how Nikolai searches for Alina and her approval to begin this.đ„č
These twođ«¶
The crowd is weeping and yelling for Sankta Alina. The polished, idolized version of her that they created. For them she was a Saint that they considered a legend.
But with Alina here it's different. She's mourning for a person that she truly knew. Not a Saint. Not an idolized person created by dreams and fantasies, no. But for a boy that she knew and loved and killed out of mercy and that no one else mourns but her.
It's that contradiction for me.
The crowd mourns a holy person that they never knew but glamorized in their mind.
And Alina mourns for a flawed human being that she knew, loved and felt pity for.
The crowd also showed their grief loudly. While Alina did it in her own quiet and private way.
Alina's name was chanted again and again loudly in a showy manner.
But Aleksander's was whispered with genuine care by a girl that loved him. She said it as a final goodbye to him. From a girl that the Darkling trusted to give his name. And she, in turn, respected it by keeping it a secret and paying tribute to it one final time.
Now she's the only person in the world that knows that name.
(UNTIL "RULE OF WOLVES" CAME OUT AND FUCKED THIS UP BUT LET'S PRETEND THAT NEVER HAPPENED, SHALL WE??đđ)
I love that scene so much but at the same time it just hurts.so.much.
But just like I said I loved the contradiction between the devoted followers who grieved loudly about a woman that they barely knew and a girl who cried soundlessly, mourned in silence and paid tribute to a boy that she loved and he loved her in return and made sure to honor all his final wishes even after he died.
"No grave. For them to desecrate" = She burned his body.
"Someone to mourn me" = Mourned him in his funeral.
"Speak my name once more" = She did in his funeral as well.
"Don't let me be alone" = He didn't let him be alone in his funeral pyre either.
just finished binge-watching season 2 of shadow and bone. my thoughts are mostly in disarray but the cringe is real.
this was an off-paced, haphazard fanfiction. it'd be just fine if the writers weren't paid for it but they actually are, so it's just... wow. I'm at best mediocre when writing in english and i reckon even i would do a better job of writing dialogue.
anyway, here's a list of my thoughts on the show, though it's more of a word vomit than a comprehensive series review:
no ivan or fedyor. immediate downvote for that alone. ivan should've survived so we could have a heartbreaking moment between him and fedyor across the two sides of the battlefield. i guess they thought there were too many characters and couples to juggle already. or maybe the actors weren't available, who knows.
costume design took a surprising turn for the worse: for example, nina's and zoya's dresses were eyesores. how anyone could make these two very attractive women look that frumpy i've no idea but they've managed. i liked sankta neyar's costume, sturmhond's coat aaand that's about it.
the settings were more varied, so glad we've seen a little of bhez ju. the introductory map-to-location shots were very helpful for people who haven't read the books, namely my gf who fell asleep halfway through the show. also, if the music had any tracks that weren't already from the first season i'll be incredibly surprised, it's that repetitive.
they've messed up nikolai as a character mainly because the actor misunderstood his assignment, though i don't know what else he could've done with the mess he was given. while he's still sympathetic, lovely and witty, paddy's nikolai thinks of sturmhond as just another disguise, rather than who he really is, to the point of gifting said disguise to mal. that's irreconcilable with my understanding of nikolai, whose real mask is the bastard prince.
tamar & tolya were better realised than expected. along with the exclusion of the soldat sol cult, their zealotry's scrapped which is a big win for them. i enjoyed their scenes, great casting too. though, as an ardent kanej fan, i cannot in good conscience support the blink-and-you'll-miss-it tolya/inej moment. tamar/nadia had maybe a minute of screen time but better than nothing.
sankta neyar was a pleasant surprise, great idea to show how powerful durasts can also be. people often disregard materialki so this was refreshing. what i liked about her is how formal, collected, old-fashioned she both appeared and acted, as if her manners and speech style were leftover from a few centuries ago, kudos to her actor tuyen do.
the crows' arc was... lacking in some way. maybe it's because pekka rollins' attitude towards kaz and his group is very different than how it was established in the books, here he was way too proactive and less secure in his position in ketterdam for some reason; anyway rollins' framing of the crows felt off to me.
the crows' character dynamics are interesting and the saving grace of the show, all kanej and wesper scenes were great. seriously, the tension of kanej & cuteness of wesper nearly destroyed me.
they did helnik dirty, of course, but that was a given.
freddy carter outperformed everyone this season, i really think out of all of them he's given the best performance, sometimes even better than ben barnes and that's practically heresy coming from me, his devoted fan since ages ago when i first saw narnia.
i kinda dig that they brought in a tidemaker (fruszi) who's practically an early version of zoya for the darkling's side but her death felt cheap. i mean, the crows arriving to help out nikolai and his team at the very last second was already eye roll inducing, but then nikolai shoots her in the neck? cheap. also, if she and zoya came to face off that'd be interesting since they share so many similarities. i personally don't think it will but if the series continued along with the darkling's canon resurrection, i wish she'd lived and replaced elizaveta, she certainly seemed devoted enough.
david and genya made me cry. that's all i have to say on them.
baghra... where do i even start with her? baghra's nonchalance, her one-eighty about deciding to help alina find more amplifiers is stark raving bonkers imho. yet at least most of her scenes weren't as bad as they could've been, her proving to mal he was the firebird and her saving genya as well as alina actually came across better than the ultra passive, constantly berating version in the books. her death felt less dramatic but more spiteful, though aleksander's reaction to her death was appropriately heartbreaking. ben & zoe sold it so well, my eyes actually welled up.
speaking of sasha, his death is soooo badly executed, it's impossible not to be pissed off at the way they filmed it. even the books were more sympathetic to his demise and alina herself showed much more empathy for him at the end. it's genuinely disturbing how they framed it, makes alina seem more like a villain than the reluctant hero she used to be. i guess it fits with the surprise ending: how she kinda becomes what she sought to destroy, poetic irony and all, but still...
aleksander's whole arc this season makes him seem more desperate and pathetic and so, less of a tyrant: he doesn't even take control of the country or more than a small group of grisha let alone become tsar, instead the apparat rules over ravka on behalf of the lantsovs till nikolai is coronated. he and his people constantly lose to some clever last minute thwarting by alina's allies. the only thing scary about him is the nichevo'ya, the shadow monsters, which in the books are entirely under his control and that of course makes it all the more terrifying. here though, sick and tired and dying, he's merely desperate and fearful. the lack of wins on aleksandr's part really defeats the purpose of the writers' continuous attempts at making him simply the most terrible, horrifying and supreme villain of gregverse.
nope, can't get over it, aleksander practically died in her arms in the books, here she just looks down at him like she's the villain. i guess she now is. oh and mal's retort to sasha about dying in her arms was somehow a foreshadowing, see, but sasha doesn't get that because he's evil, see? gosh, so patronising.
since they've constantly emphasised this season how it was the fold's and thus sasha's fault that grisha were persecuted (not that this explains the ceaseless mistreatment, endangerment and more often death that grisha face everywhere they go, of course, nor does it explain his backstory) i gathered they'd go for a retcon but i didn't imagine they'd exonerate baghra, the apparat and tie the border wars with shu han and fjerda to the fold's existence entirely. the reason the war broke out in the first place was because those countries' fundamental approach to grisha was to kill them or worse. that is what grisha persecution meant. and now... what, the war is over, just like that? i have no words.
also, the exclusion of the "don't let me be alone" line. now that I think about it, those writers should be fed to nichevo'ya.
alina, alina, alina... sure, she's a self-insert, so her motivations don't make sense anyway, but as sweet as jessie is and how hard she tries, show!alina is now an equally awful mess as book!alina. the two things i liked about her this season were her manipulation attempt through the tether and the ending where she goes a bit darkling. the latter, i really like. i wrote a fragment of a power reversal fic before but never put it up, might just do that now.
i'll admit: it's rather funny how mal dumps alina after losing his amplification because he doesn't feel the same way anymore. he doesn't know if it was him being an amplifier that made them love one another. see how easily he turns away from alina? if i were aleksander, I'd be laughing at her from the grave.
A/N: I'm still new to writing these, but theres not a lot of Tamar Kir-Bataar fics anywhere so I figured I'd try my best :) I'd love any feedback.
Summary: You keep slipping your guards and Tamar comes up with a solution.
Warnings: Mentions of violence and slightly spicy content.
Word Count: 3.1k
You were sick of Nikolaiâs hovering. Ever since the civil war ended and you returned home, he insisted on always having guards with you. The last straw was when he decided you needed two extra guards â even though there hadnât been any assassination attempts in months, let alone on palace grounds.Â
That night, you convinced a friend to tailor you, and snuck out your window with her at night, going to have a few drinks in one of the many taverns. Later, after sheâd fixed your face, you stumbled back through your window, landing on the carpeted floor with an oof. You groaned and slowly pushed yourself up, just to see Tamar sitting on her bed. Â
âOh, youâre finally backâ, she said.Â
âYes, why are you in my room?â.Â
âWhy do you think?âÂ
âYou wanted to raid my closetâ You answered, swaying back and forth with a cheeky smile.Â
Tamar glared at her, and your mouth snapped shut â her gaze was furious.  Â
Tamarâs hands rubbed over her face, âI have eyes everywhereâ, she said finally. âI havenât told your brother yet but youâre getting recklessâ.Â
âWho gave you the right to spy on me?â
âWho gave you the right to sneak away in the middle of the night!â
âI didnât need the rightâ you yelled, âIâm not some naive little girlâ.
âWeâll talk about this tomorrowâ, Tamar said, she pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your forehead. âGo to bedâ.Â
She headed out the door and you flipped her off behind her back.Â
âI saw thatâ, she yelled out. Youâd forgotten about the mirrors.Â
You brushed your teeth, washed your face, threw your clothes off, not bothering to change into a nightgown, and collapsed on your bed into a restless sleep. You never could sleep well after drinking.Â
-Break-Â
You woke up to knocking on your door.Â
âGo awayâ you yelled, pulling your pillow over your head.Â
âIâm coming inâ, you heard Tamarâs voice.Â
She took one look at you sprawled out, half-naked, on your bed and threw a dressing gown at you. You caught it, sat up, and tied it around yourself.Â
âYou didnât like the view?â, you said with a poutÂ
âOh I liked itâ, Tamar winked, âBut itâs a bit distracting right nowâ. You rolled your eyes.Â
You rubbed your temples, trying to ease the headache from your hangover. âAny chance youâll help me with the headacheâ.Â
âNope. You earned thatâ.Â
You groaned and threw a pillow at her, which she dodged before walking over to sit next to you on the couch.Â
âI can get your brother to loosen up on the guardsâ, she said.Â
It seemed too good to be true, you narrowed your eyes, âwhatâs the catch?âÂ
âI teach you how to fightâ.Â
You shuddered. Youâd been able to draw with Tamar once. Just once. And you still considered that one of her biggest achievements. The girl was uncanny in a fight â silent and as cold as steel. She loved to tease and antagonize you too, or at least she used to. The two of you hadnât sparred since Spinning Wheel.Â
Your stomach dropped thinking of that place. Youâd gone back once to visit with Nikolai and the twins after the war ended. Nikolai decided to permanently close the base, as a memorial. There were too many painful memories littering that large room, the halls, the four flights of stairs that were angels compared to the giant metal contraption Nikolai had rigged.
Youâd barely survived the escape from Spinning Wheel, tagging along with a group of first army soldiers. Youâd served in the first army as infantry â following in your brother's footsteps. Marksmanship was your best skill â and you could hit a target 500 feet away easily. It was pure luck you came across the Soldat Sol and Alinaâs group a few days before the ambush. Luckily, they recognized you and you convinced them to let you join in on the ambush.Â
âItâs my country tooâ you argued. You proved your skills with a rifle and they let you fight. Alina had argued against you going, but Tamar stood up for you. Youâd grown closer since sheâd decided to stay at the little palace. Neither of you had put an official label on what you had, but you both understood you were exclusive â Tamar had a jealous streak. Something you liked to tease her about, in good faith. Your brother liked to dangle the possibility of an engagement to you with influential nobles and foreigners as a bargaining tool. He knew not to cross the line and try and set up a real engagement, last time he brought up marriage you decked him in the face. His pride prevented him from getting the bruise healed. There was zero chance youâd end up with some grubby-handed noble, and your brother understood that.Â
You came out of your daze, turning to look at TamarÂ
âWhen do we start?â
âI have some things to do but Iâll find you mid-afternoonâ.Â
You nodded, âAlrightâ.Â
Tamar gave you a quick kiss before you left. You caught yourself smiling for a few moments after she left, holding a hand up to your lips,Â
âPatheticâ you mumbled under your breath.Â
Tamar did find you later in the library, you were brushing up on some liturgical Ravkan. It was horribly dull but you wanted to keep up with your language studies. She laughed at your choice of reading and put the book aside before pulling you up out of your seat. You were excited about the lesson.Â
âNo weaponsâ, Tamar said, starting to off her axes, pistols, dagger, and all of the other weapons she carried on her at what seemed like all times.Â
âShe probably sleeps with themâ you thought.Â
You took out your pistol, pulled the daggers out of your boot, inside your shirt, and the ones tucked into your waistband. The war had left a sense of paranoia in you, and your weapons almost felt like a safety blanket. You felt a bit naked without them.Â
âYour hair knifeâ, Tamar said with an amused expressionÂ
âI almost forgot about that, thank youâ You replied genuinely, and you had forgotten about it. It was a dull blade â it wouldnât cut through your hair, but someone would feel it if you jammed it into their eyes. Once that was removed, you both took up your stances. Tamar tweaked your form, pushing your front elbow in slightly.Â
You felt nerves trickle up into her, youâre a little rusty on hand-to-hand combat â and havenât been practicing as much as you shouldâve. Tamar leapt into action without warning â silent, cold, and deadly as always. Your nerves started to disappear as you dodged the first blow, and the second, the third landed and winded you a bit, but you aimed a knee right for Tamarâs stomach â and it hit before the other girl lifted your knee to push you right on your back. You wasted no time rolling to her feet, skipping the kick, and this time running straight towards her, you faked a blow to Tamarâs stomach and went straight for the headbutt, your forehead smashing into her nose. It was something of a classic move of yours. But, Tamar didnât miss a beat. She took the chance to trip you, and fell on top of you, straddling your waist. When you kept trying to punch her, she pinned your wrists down to your side.Â
Tamar was too strong for you to buck off with your hips, so you just squirmed as much as you could, bringing her leg up to push against a certain area ⊠Tamar jumped in surprise and you took the chance to flip her over, you on top this time. She hesitated too long, and Tamar flipped you so your back was pressed against her chest, her legs locking yours down, and with you in a headlock.Â
Tamar POV
Y/N did well in their first round. Tamar released her from the hold and stood up, offering the other girl a hand, she yanked her up, so her mouth was close to her ear. âGood one princessâ, she said in a low tone. Her face flushed and she pushed Tamar away. Tamar loved teasing her, theyâd grown closer since Tamar and Tolya decided to stay on with the King. Everyone knew they were together in some way, but the two of them hadnât put a label on anything.Â
âAgainâ, she said.Â
They went another round. The fight lasted almost the same length, and Y/N was giving everything she had, Tamar didnât hold back. It ended with Y/N on her back again, Tamar straddling her â carefully positioned so she couldnât pull the same trick, although Tamar thought she really wouldnât mind it. She shook that thought from her head before standing and offering another hand. She whispered in her ear again this time,Â
âI think you can do better than thatâ.Â
Tamar saw the fire build in Y/Nâs eyes. The last round was a good one, Y/Nâs movements were more aggressive, and she hesitated less â but she had some tells. She would give the smallest bounce before she made any move. Although she seemed on fire, Tamar could sense her growing tired. Y/N had landed awkwardly at some point, and even though she got back up â Tamar noticed her wincing and favoring her left shoulder. Tamar ended the fight quickly.Â
She stood up again, on shaky legs, âanotherâ.Â
Tamar shook her head, âthatâs enough for todayâ.Â
âCome on, pleaseâ
âNoâ, Tamar gave Y/N a look that told her it was the end of the conversation. Y/N rolled her eyes but let Tamar wrap her arm around her waist and lead her back inside. She walked her to her doors, intending to say goodnight there but Y/N pulled her inside, closing the doors behind her.Â
âWhy havenât you actually kissed me yet?â Y/N blurted out. Theyâd been flirting and dodging around each other for weeks. Tamar relished the stolen moments, small kisses, and general affection they had together but feared pushing anything too far.Â
Tamarâs eyes raised, âWhy havenât you kissed me?âÂ
âBecause Iâve been waiting on youâ.Â
Tamar reached for her, one arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her flush against her body â the other hand came up to fist the hair on the back of her head. The kiss wasnât gentle, it was rough and full of passion.Â
Y/N looked down at her clothes, âI need to changeâ. She walked off to the corner without another word and started stripping out of her clothes. She threw them into a corner before walking towards her bathroom, âfeel free to join meâ, she said turning back to look at Tamar, as she headed to fill up her bath.Â
Y/N must have seen how Tamarâs jaw dropped through a mirror, she said âClose your mouth. Youâll catch fliesâ
Her mouth snapped shut, her cheeks flushing. Tamar wasnât surprised often, but Y/N seemed to have a knack for it.Â
âAt least Iâm not on duty tonightâ, she thought to herself. Tamar wanted Y/N to be officially hers. Theyâd dodged around the conversation for a while, preferring to show each other how they felt through actions. Theyâd also avoided anything too intimate â holding hands, cuddling, and small kisses were about all theyâd shared. Â
She was lost in her thoughts for a few moments before she stripped and followed the princess into the bathroom. She admired her figure, lean muscle, with scars littering her arms and torso. A black sun tattoo stands out on her upper right shoulder. Tamar had given it to her the night before the ambush. She turned and caught sight of her rosy, pale nipples and forced herself to look Y/N in the eyes.Â
Y/NÂ Â POVÂ
âLike what you see?â You asked with a flourish, filling the bath with hot, soapy water. You were pleasantly surprised Tamar had decided to follow her. It was your boldest move yet â and she was hoping it would pay off.Â
âYes, yes I doâ Tamarâs eyes were roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her. You were doing the same, from the glint of muscle on her forearms to the perfect shape of her breasts, and the chiseled lines built into her stomach.Â
You turned and climbed into the tub, waving Tamar over to follow you. The other girl rolled her eyes, it was a ridiculously oversized tub, ornate and ugly. You hated it and knew Tamar thought it was obscene.Â
âThis is the gaudiest tub Iâve ever seenâ, you commented as she settled in the water. Tamar moved behind her, letting you rest up against her â she hummed in contentment.Â
âLet me clean you upâ, she said â Tamar reached for a rag and started dabbing at your split lip from training and scrubbed away the dirt youâd accumulated during the day. You turned around and returned the favor. You sat, enjoying each otherâs presence, till the water started turning cold. Tamar climbed out first, lending you her hand, and grabbed two towels for both of you.Â
You toweled yourself off, heading towards your wardrobe. You found a pair of comfortable loose black pants that looked like they could fit Tamar, and a rough spun top. You tossed them towards her and Tamar caught them gracefully, slipping on the clothes.Â
You looked out the window, it was getting late â the sun had already set â and theyâd missed dinner. Towel wrapped around you, you turned to Tamar, âwill you spend the night with me?â you asked, a bit afraid of the answer.Â
âIf you want me to I willâ.Â
âBut do you want toâ You pushedÂ
âI doâ Tamar smiled, she slipped around her and pulled out one of her old nightgowns she never uses anymore âÂ
âHere, I like this,â she said, you elbowed her but Tamarâs expression was serious. You sighed and dramatically rolled your eyes,Â
âIf you insist,â you said, quickly slipping it on. You grabbed a blue dressing gown and tied it around herself, âwait hereâ, she said, heading towards the doorway, âIâll get us some dinnerâ.Â
You took a secret passage out to the kitchens and saw Enya in there, cleaning up the last of dinner.Â
âAny leftovers for me?â You asked
Enya jumped, âQuit scaring meâ, she threw a towel at you. You ducked it and laughed. Youâd grown up around Enya, and she was one of the few adults that didnât treat her differently.Â
âIâll send you up a tray, now shoo,â she said.Â
âCould it be two?â You asked.Â
Enya hmphed but nodded, waving you away.Â
You hurried back to her room as quickly as you could. You were happy Tamar was still inside, leaning back in an armchair, reading one of your books. She closed it as you entered the room.Â
âWhat was that all about?â she asked.Â
âGetting us some foodâ you smiled.Â
âYou couldâve rung for someone? Thatâs what your brother doesâ
âI like to visit EnyaâÂ
âYou know the kitchen staff?â Tamar asked, without a tone of surprise, more one of admirationÂ
âI did grow up hereâ you replied to her.Â
You flopped down onto Tamarâs lap. âI hate these roomsâÂ
âHm ⊠why?â Tamar started kissing down her shoulder, biting gently near her neck as Y/N let out a small moan.Â
âTheyâre too lonelyâ.Â
Tamar stopped and turned her head to look at her. The other girl shrugged her shoulders and Tamar pulled her in for a kiss.Â
âMove in with meâ, she said without thinking.Â
âI would in a heartbeatâÂ
âWhat would your brother say?âÂ
âWho caresâ
âHe is technically my employerâÂ
âHe would never get rid of youâÂ
Tamar just hummed in reply.Â
âPlus, he hasnât quit telling me to make a move on youâÂ
Tamar leaned back to look at her, âFunny. Zoyaâs been saying the same thing to meâ.Â
âMaybe weâre both just idiotsâ
âJust you, princessâ.Â
âOkay, humbugâÂ
âNoâ, Tamar started laughing
âHumbugâ Y/N said in a sing-song voice.Â
Tamar pinched her side, Y/NÂ Â squirmed in her lap, âQuit doing thatâ.Â
Tamar whispered into her ear âQuit moving like thatâ.Â
âAre you sure you want me toâ, she answered, slightly breathlessÂ
Then, a knock sounded on the door and you leapt up to answer it. You opened it and found two trays left on a table outside, âEnya mustâve told them to do thatâ, you thought.Â
You smiled and brought the food in â it was your favorite type of meal. A bowl of some sort of stew, some bread, and grapes. You threw a grape at Tamar, who caught it in her mouth.Â
You ate in silence; you didnât realize how hungry you both were and devoured your food â it tasted like heaven. After you finished, you silently stood up to take the trays back outside the door. When you turned back around, you started to feel shy â and maybe a bit insecure.Â
Tamar POV
As Y/N turned back to look at her, Tamar could see the hesitation on her face. She stood up to meet Y/N halfway, and pulled her into her arms, âare you sure you want me to stay?â
Y/N pulled her face back to look at Tamar, she leaned up on her toes and kissed her, âyesâ, she said and kissed her again. Â
Tamar grinned before picking her up and spinning her around. Y/N laughed, and it was a sweet sound. She picked her up, letting her wrap her legs around her waist, and carried her to the bed. They collapsed onto it together, a tangle of limbs and laughter.
âCan we just sleep?â Y/N asked, her voice quiet.Â
âOf course, love,â Tamar said, she pulled the girl in closer, and let her cuddle up on her chest. She ran her fingers through her hair, and slowly fell asleep â listening to the sound of her heartbeat.
Y/N is an early riser like Tamar, she felt the other girl slip out of bed in the morning. She sat up to see Y/N standing next to one of the mirrors in the room, tilting her head to the side. Y/N slowly turned around, hands on her hips,
âTAMAR KIR-BATAARâ she screeched.Â
âYes?â she answered slowly.Â
âWhat is this?â Y/N pointed at a purple bruise forming on her neck, stalking back over to the bed.Â
âItâs a giftâ Tamar grinned.Â
âTake it backâ
âNoâ
âCanât you fix it?â
âI won'tâÂ
Y/N groaned and Tamar pulled her in for another kiss.
- "Je ne veux plus de bazar dans ma chambre, c'est entendu ?
Torgal se recroquevilla sur lui-mĂȘme pour montrer qu'il avait compris la leçon, puis, de nouveau joyeux, se faufila entre ses jambes avant de venir gratter Ă la porte. Joshua comprit qu'il voulait sortir.
Ils arrivĂšrent alors dans le laboratoire oĂč se trouvaient Cyril et deux autres adeptes. Le MaĂźtre se tourna alors vers le jeune acolyte et lui prit la caisse des mains.