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#the keftas are so beautifully made!!
19burstraat · 1 month
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Ok we all know guild me, build me exists due to my artistic abilities being very lacking in the visual arts, so rather than drawing the crows in the komedie brute, I had to write kaz in. however I had ideas for the others that I couldn't get into a fic, so I've put em down here
Kaz: (description ripped from guild me, build me):
a heavy black cape, sewn with stolen chains and jewels so that it jingled upon every movement (...) It was marked up and slit here and there, on the edges and at the collar, to give the impression of crow’s feathers, and it was made of some kind of shiny, velvety fabric that had the oily shine of crow’s plumage. The gloves were the same material, thinner and more embroidered than Kaz would have ever entertained, and the cane was a plain, inaccurate copy– (...) the mask; a silver crow’s head (...) crooked over the eyes and nose, almost like a Kaelish plague mask. But it left the mouth unblocked; of course it did. Dirtyhands needed to talk.
Inej:
Light and flimsy dark (doesn't have to be black; could be blue or grey) fabric for the veil and cloak. Has an element of spiderwebby fraying to it which is a nod to her being... Well, a spider lmao. But also meant to look ghostly and insubstantial, can sometimes see a metal shiny suggestion of knives underneath it. The veil can be parted just down the side of her face, so you can occasionally see a bit of her face, but never the whole thing. Would not be a practical costume to climb or spy in; too long and bothersome, the same way Kaz's Dirtyhands cloak would not be practical to pickpocket in. Sometimes productions get her a few cheap sheath knives.
Jesper:
Rabbit head mask, short cloak in some batshit colour like green or pink, lined w rabbit's fur and threaded with gambling chips, 'lucky' rabbits feet, coins, and stray bullets. Adornments tied on loosely so they swing everywhere when he moves. This way there's also a real risk of the Kaz and Jesper actors getting tangled together if they interact, which is not symbolic, just funny. This is our get-along Komedie Brute costume :) (we are stuck)
Wylan:
A once-fine red cloak with a high ruffly collar-- now tattered and singed and gone to seed. Little bits of wiring or string or pouches of powders etc sewn into it; sneakily embroidered with the Van Eck laurel around the edges. Mask, while elaborate and matching with the cloak, only covers the top half of his face, as if he's not quite as all-in as the others. For similar reasons, the cloak is half-length.
Matthias:
Wolf's head mask ofc, white fur cape a lot longer and more substantial than Jesper's, with heavy furring around the neck (made to bulk out the actor if they're not the right stature, which most will not be). Likely they also weight his boots to make his tread sound more imposing. Possibly a wig if they can afford one, since Druskelle are known for the long hair.
Nina:
Porcelain-doll Venetian style mask (you know the ones!) with a single black tear-- referential both to that bit in CK when they identified themselves that way in the crowd of Mister Crimsons, and the Queen of Mourning thing. Mask is covered with a very light veil, and she wears a long heavy silk cloak with a bit of a hint of a kefta, but not enough to get the Komedie Brute in shit from Ravkan Grisha lmao. Entrance usually heralded with a blue corpselight.
I imagine dependent on the production and the costumier they could look great and beautifully elaborate, or they could look cheap and shit lmao.
Bonus: I got bored and made a mock-up of a page of a Komedie play. I edited over the first folio for this, yes. Sorry to the Big W.S.
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z1m1nys0ldat · 1 year
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Shadow & Bone - S2
What I wanted to happen:
Kaz Brekker picking a lock 
Feydor showing of more of his heartrending abilities 
Feydor + Ivan reuniting 
Fivan (in general) 
Wesper (in general) 
Who I wanted to see:
Feydor Kaminsky 
Genya Safin 
Ivan
Kaz Rietveld (young Kaz)
Jordie Rietveld 
Favourite moments:
Jesper admitting to liking Wylan  
Kaz buries Pekka’s son 
David & Genya - “You don’t need fixing” 
Kaz fighting the Dregs 
The Crow’s flashbacks/hallucinations 
Baghra’s death
The Crows fight with The Disciple 
Genya finding David’s plans for a ring 
Inej & Kaz in the chapel saying their goodbyes 
Good things:
The sets were beautiful; Novyi Zem was so vibrant and full of life. The architecture and fabrics shown were so detailed, the streets honestly felt so full of life. I loved seeing more of Ketterdam and Kerch, it made it feel even more real. The darkness and grittiness of the streets was so clear and really added to the atmosphere of those scenes.  Shu Han was simply a work of art. The merchant’s tables and their wares were so intriguing and realistic, and the alter (if that’s what it’s called) where Zoya and Tolya paid their respects to the deceased was so beautiful. 
The costuming continues to impress me! The intricate details of each characters outfits really added to their realness and authenticity.  The Kefta’s were absolutely beautiful, as always! The details in each of them was amazing - I loved how Kirigan’s Kefta began to feature Alina’s gold throughout the season. 
The casting was fabulous! Jack was incredible as Wylan, despite not having red hair he really embodied Wylan for me.  I thought Patrick did an incredible job as Nikolai and really sold the performance. 
Some of the acting was absolutely incredible!  Freddy Carter really channeled Kaz Brekker this season, and not only that but he really channeled Dirtyhands. There were so many scenes where his performance gave me chills! His ability to really become his character is superb! The mannerisms, the posture, the facial expressions, the voice, everything just screamed Kaz - Dirtyhands - Brekker.    Ben Barnes continued to amaze me! His performance as Kirigan is honestly incredible. His ability to channel Aleksander’s vulnerabilities, manipulations, ambitions and cruelties all at once is something I will never not be in awe of. Kirigan’s pain and rage is so beautifully acted out this season and I found myself on the edge of my seat every time he was on screen! Amita Suman - Just Amita Suman! My God was she incredible! Not a single scene went by that she didn’t dominate. Her interactions with Mogen were so chilling and so harrowing. I wouldn’t be suprised if there was an Oscar with her name on it in the future.  
Matthias’ religion.  I loved how they showed Matthias relationship with his religion and how he is trying to reconcile wanting Nina while still believing in his God.    The fact that he refused to fight the wolves as they were sacred and important to his culture and his God, and then later calling out for Nina (A Grisha) and trying to get to her as he is dragged out of the ring is such an interesting dichotomy and I’m looking forward to how they might take this further. 
The transitions the season were insane: Kaz in The Disciples room -> Kaz in the river 
Bad things. 
Some of the acting left things to be desired.  There were a few characters whose acting was not at the level as everyone else’s, and I found this quite distracting and it did take away from my ability to suspend-my-disbelief a bit. An example of this was with some of the background Grisha characters, such as Fruszi. 
Some of the scenes could have gone further.  The scene where Kaz tells Pekka he buried his son was incredibly acted in the show and I did love it, however in the book the scene was much longer and there was no mention or motive of having Pekka confess to Heleen and the Constable’s murders or him releasing Inej. The focus is more on Kaz’s anger and revenge, he is much more insistent in the book that Pekka says Jordie’s name; however once he gives up the information about where Pekka’s son is after he begs and Pekka runs off, Kaz reveals that he had never even seen his son and his motive was simply to have Pekka seen running out of town with his medics in tow at the same time that the plague was appearing at his establishments. Kaz is far crueler in the books, mocking Pekka and saying how the sound of his son crying for him was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. I feel like in the show Kaz rolled over and gave in much easier and far quicker, whereas in the book the exchange lasted far longer.  
Inej should have gotten her own ship at the end instead of joining Sturmhond’s crew. 
I would have loved to have seen my two favourite characters come back - Ivan & Feydor Kaminsky. 
Overall 
I really enjoyed it! It was fun and dramatic and had some really cool action scenes. I think it followed the first season pretty damn well, and I’m looking forward to seeing what they might do with a season 3.  There was some bumps in the road along the way, things I wasn’t so keen on but isn’t that always the way... 
It’s definitely not an accurate and verbatim adaptation of the books but it is without a doubt an impressive and enjoyable one. 
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unhingedism · 3 years
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I want a black** kefta now
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skiller0dani · 3 years
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Palace Garden | General Kirigan
M A S T E R L I S T Shadow and Bone Masterlist
smut requests info w.c | 4.8k summary | You are the General’s personal Healer, he doesn’t go anywhere without you. So when General Kirigan is invited to the King Pyotr’s annual ‘end of year’ party at the Grand Palace, you join him. Except the King’s second son, Nikolai, takes a special interest in you. 
song
My Shadow and Bone pieces will probably include Spoilers from the SHOW. I have not yet read the books, I have only read through most of Six of Crows. I’m finishing that book as we speak, I have only seen the Shadow and Bone tv show, I haven’t read the books. 
PSA: I write with limited knowledge of who Nikolai Lantsov is, although I know he is royalty (King of Ravka I believe) but in the show he isn’t the King, so I made him a Prince. Don’t be mad at me, this is all for fun and it’s FICTION. 
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“You’ve received another invitation from the King, just how long do you plan to ignore him?” You snicker as you drop a letter onto the General’s desk. It’s an invitation to King Pyotr’s End of Year Celebration, attended by decorated Soldiers from both the First and Second Army, and hopefully the esteemed General. The previous year the General had ‘urgent’ matters to attend to so he was unable to attend the dreaded party in his words. In truth you always had fun at the King’s Celebrations so you didn’t know what always soured his fun. 
“Until the day after next.” His shoulders were rigid and his tone was clipped. 
“General, tonight is the Celebration. You must answer the King by then, you know that.” You chuckled with a roll of your eyes, watching as the General begrudgingly tore open the envelope. You watched as his eyes scanned the paper in front of him, his eyebrows pinching together in frustration. 
“General?” You knew it was unwise to engage him when he was in a state of agitation but in all honesty, you didn’t fear him the way everyone else did. General Kirigan swiftly ignored you and reached for a pen, and upon further examination your eyes caught your name written on the letter from the King. 
‘I am most eager to meet your esteemed Healer, Y/N.’ 
The General tends to get a tad, possessive, of the things he deems belong to him. You were one the things the General had claimed as his own, and anybody who shows a particular interest in you tends to annoy him. You can see the tension growing in his shoulders, and while you might not know how deeply he cares for you, you know he sees you as more than just his Healer. Hopefully, he sees you as a sort of friend as well. 
“Are we going to attend the Celebration General?” You ask cautiously, watching as Kirigan’s expression shifts from mildly annoyed to thoroughly agitated. You make sure to keep at least one foot distance between you and the General at all times, he tends to be a bit unpredictable when he’s upset. You watch as the General stands, yanking at the buttons of his Kefta before tossing the heavy fabric onto his bed. 
“Yes, we are. Apparently both Princes will be in attendance.” The General says through a huff, reaching for his dress jacket- the black one with gold detailing he wears for social events. The Princes? Neither of the Princes have been spotted inside the Grand Palace for a few months now, it’s no wonder the King has chosen tonight for the Celebration. The end of the year isn’t for a few weeks and normally the Celebration is closer to the years change. You try to mask the mild excitement you feel at the prospect of meeting either of the Princes, although you don’t hear much about Prince Vasily. Most of the young Grisha women training in the Little Palace whisper about Prince Nikolai. 
“Does this please you?” The General asks, his tone distracted as he finishes buttoning his Kefta in the mirror. You shake your head, your eyes briefly catching his. 
“I couldn’t care either way General.” You say with a shrug, and you swear you see the tiniest smile grace the corner of his lips. For as long as you could remember you’ve had a thing for the General, what women wouldn’t? He’s tall, handsome, has dark hair, dark eyes, and he’s powerful. You doubt some Prince could ever compare to General Kirigan, not that you’re hoping one will. A Tailor swiftly enters the General’s chambers then, her eyes landing on you. 
“A package has come for Y/N sir, and she should be getting ready for the party soon.” She says, her eyes only briefly meeting the General’s before flickering back towards the floor. His eyebrows stitch together when he sees the box she holds. You reach for it before his hand raises, “give it to me.” He instructs sternly. The Tailor quickly hands the package to the General and you see an unreadable expression pull onto his face. He plucks a note from the top lid of the package, and hands it to you before opening the package. 
I await our meeting with bated breath dear Y/N. 
- Prince Nikolai
Inside the package is easily the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen. It’s blood red with silver detailing, and it goes all the way to the floor. You take the dress from the General, stroking the smooth silk. He can see the twinkling in your eyes as you eye the gift from the Prince, it sends surges of frustration through his tightening chest. The Tailor ushers you into the General’s bathroom so you can change, and the General turns his back for privacy. It’s been like this for some time now, you hardly ever get ready for social events in your own room anymore. You’d been the General’s Healer for quite a few years now, and on more than one occasion he’s had to provide some Healing for you as well. He’s seen your entire upper torso bare from when he had to heal a stab wound through your chest. Needless to say, you were probably too comfortable in the presence of the General. 
You stepped out of the bathroom and the General turned, his eyes landing on you. For a second he didn’t know what to say, you were absolutely stunning. Your hair had been let in loose curls down your back, normally you wore it up and out of the way so he didn’t normally get to admire your hair falling around your face. The dress hugged each of your curves beautifully, but the color was irritating him. Surely it was tailored to match whatever the Prince was wearing and General Kirigan couldn’t let that slide. 
“Well? Am I presentable?” You ask the General, knowing you’ll need his say-so  before you’re party ready. 
“Nearly.” The General says, his voice trailing off into a whisper as he leans over towards the Tailor. You can see her smile but it’s quickly masked, and you don’t know what he’s saying to her. Quickly the Tailor ushers you back into the bathroom and fumbles around for a few things from her kit. She turns back to you with concentration on her face and soon the appearance of your dress begins to change. The red color fades away and is replaced with an inky black color, and the silver detailing morph into gold detailing. Soon the dress remains mostly the same, except for the fact that it matches the Kefta the General is wearing. When you step out of the bathroom again, you see a pleased look upon the General’s face. 
“Now you’re ready.” 
»»————- ✼ ————-««
Your arm was hooked with the Generals as you entered the main hall of the Grand Palace, your eyes immediately traveling to all the ornate decorations covering the walls. Decorated window curtains, glass chandeliers, a wide ballroom laid out in front of you. It was crowded with people, a soft Orchestra playing in the background, and soft chatter. The General wore an easy smile across his face. He was keeping up appearances, you know he didn’t want to be here. His arm held you to his side tightly, and looming before you was the throne for the King and Queen. Stood on each side of them were the Princes, Vasily stood next to the King, and Nikolai next to the Queen. The King looked positively delighted to see the General. 
“General Kirigan! Good you could make it. You remember my sons Vasily and Nikolai don’t you?” The King gestured to both of the Princes, and while Vasily regarded the General with a polite smile, Nikolai’s eyes were firmly on you. 
“Yes of course, allow me to introduce the Princes to my Personal Healer- Y/N.” General Kirigan sounds almost proud as he introduces you, and you bow for the Princes who both send you a smile. Although Nikolai’s smile is flirtier then this brothers, who remains polite. The Queen’s eyes trail down your gown, noticing the slight shimmer to the fabric. 
“Your dress is lovely, you must have had a good Tailor.” She smiles and you blush as you take your place next to the General, your arm slipping through his with ease. 
“Well actually it was a gift from Prince Nikolai. T-Thank you for such a generous gift!” You inform her shyly, feeling General Kirigan’s body go slightly rigid beside you. You carefully peek at the General, and you notice he’s locked in a heated stare-down with Prince Nikolai. 
“You’re very welcome, did the color not suit you?” He asks and it’s just now that you notice the Kefta he’s wearing matched your dresses previous color perfectly. 
“Oh not at all-” 
“I thought it would be better for my Healer to match my Kefta, your highness.” The General cuts in, his voice polite but firm. The General says it as if you should match because you’re his Healer but you know what he’s really saying. He’s telling the Prince he wanted you to match his Kefta and not Nikolai’s, General Kirigan is saying that you belong to him and the Prince knows that.  
“Of course.” The Prince’s tone is tense, and the smile on his face looks practiced. You stay firmly placed by the Generals side, offering a polite smile as the General nearly drags you away from the royalty and further into the party. You can feel the frustration washing off the General in waves, your hand curling around his bicep a little tighter as a weak attempt to calm him. Kirigan almost cant stand the sight of you wearing a dress the Prince picked for you, but seeing the Princes face when he realized the dress he picked no longer matched his Kefta, but the General’s instead was wonderful enough to make up for it. 
“General? I apologize but you’re needed urgently-” A Grisha solider pushes gently through the crowd and begins to whisper hastily in the General’s ear. You see annoyance cross onto the General’s face before he shoos the Grisha away. He turns towards you, leaning down to brush his lips over the shell of your ear. The small action sends shivers down your spine. 
“Can you manage by yourself for a few minutes? There’s something I need to attend to, but I should be back shortly.” He whispers and you quickly offer him a nod before slipping your arm from his. General Kirigan shoots you an apologetic look before following the path the Grisha took before he disappears from sight. You hold a glass in your palm, although you’re not sure what the shimmering liquid is. You feel slightly out of place, and everyone steers clear of you. They saw you with the General, and are probably going to continue to ignore you to prevent receiving the Generals wrath.
“Y/N, right?” You hear a voice to your right and you know who it is before you even turn. Only one person is brave enough to approach somebody the General has placed an ‘unspoken’ claim on. 
“Prince Nikolai.” You smile politely, taking a step to the side to create a small amount of distance from you and the Prince. He sips at his glass, a twinkling of mischievousness in his eyes. 
“So tell me the real reason the color of your dress was altered. I thought we would have complimented each other nicely.” His voice is smooth like honey, his eyes a cool amber. It’s not that you find the Prince unattractive, quite the opposite actually. You just aren’t interested in him that way, and his good looks could never compare to General Kirigan. The Prince is clean cut and refined, while the General is rugged and untamed. They’re opposites in every way, and you just can’t be attracted to anybody else. Prince Nikolai could never compare to the General. 
“I apologize Prince Nikolai, but I wanted to match the General.” You say with ease, finally allowing yourself to take a sip of the mystery drink in your hand. A look you can’t place briefly crosses over Prince Nikolai’s face, if you didn’t know any better you’d say he looked hurt. 
“I see.” Is all he says and for the next few minutes you feel a tense silence before a hand presses against the small of your back. You turn your head and nearly breathe a sigh of relief. 
“General.” You smile, although his eyes are firmly on Prince Nikolai. His hand gently pulls you closer to his side, and your heart races the tiniest bit faster when his hand curls around your hip to rest there. You know you and the General aren’t together, but the placement of his hand tells people otherwise. You lean further into his side, and you can feel his body relax ever-so-slightly as you do so. When the Orchestra plays a slow song, General Kirigan glances down at you with a raised brow. 
“Prince Nikolai, if you’ll excuse us.” General Kirigan says when you notice other couples moving to the dance floor, including the King and Queen. He turns then and leads you out to the ballroom floor, his hand pressing against your lower back, holding your chest flush with his. He takes your hand with his free hand and soon you are both gently swaying to the music. The lights in the ballroom dim, the stars twinkling outside becoming even brighter. 
“General, could I ask you a question?” You ask softly, relaxing into his embrace. When you hear him hum softly in response you turn your head up to look at him, he towers over you. You nibble on your bottom lip, your heart beginning to race like mad in your chest. His grip on your palm shifts to allow his fingers to lace through yours gently. 
“Why does Prince Nikolai make you so...upset?” You ask, and deep down you know the answer. You just need him to say it. General Kirigan’s eyes flicker to meet yours, an expression on his face that you can’t read. His body presses more firmly against yours when his hold on your lower back tightens, pulling you even closer to him then you were before. You wished you could stay here in this moment with him forever, just the two of you and nobody else. You know that in your heart, you’ve fallen in love with General Kirigan but you doubt he’d ever feel the same way. 
“Because I dislike the amount of attention he gives you.” General Kirigan admits, his eyes turning away from yours. You thumb rubs circles over the back of his hand subconsciously as your mind tries to grasp what he just said. 
“Prince Nikolai could devote his entire life to attempting to impress me, and it would make no difference General.” You say softly, drawing his gaze back to yours. Your faces are nearly touching, your noses brushing against each others as you lean up on your tippy toes to be closer to him. 
“Why not?” He can’t help himself as he asks, surely there’s not a chance you could ever feel for him what he feels for you. Part of him hates himself for being so weak, for allowing his heart to care for you, for allowing a weakness to crawl into his heart. 
“Because he could never mean to me what you mean to me General, no matter how hard he tries...he could never be you.” You whisper softly, your cheeks burning hot and your eyes refusing to meet his. General Kirigan feels every emotion he’s tried to push away flood through him then, joy, excitement, glee, pure happiness. A small smile overtakes his face as he leans down to whisper in your ear for the second time tonight. 
“Aleksander.” 
“What?” You’re startled to say the least, pulling back to look into his eyes. Did he just...? 
“That’s my name.” He clarifies, a full smile on his face now. You feel your heart pounding heavily in your chest when you suddenly hear a loud explosion. Startled, you push yourself into General- Aleksander’s chest. His arms curl around your body as the floor to ceiling windows are thrown open, and fireworks are seen outside. Immediately people flood out onto the Palace garden to view the fireworks, and Aleksander is gently leading you outside with them. Your hand is still locked with his as your head tips up to watch the colors explode in the sky. The Alkemi really pulled all the stops for this firework show. Your breath is stolen right from your lungs as you watch the fireworks go off, but soon you feel Aleksander’s fingers turning your face to look at him. Your eyes lock onto his before you’re leaning forward to connect your lips to his. 
His arms wrap around your torso to pull you against him tighter, your arms flying up around his shoulders. You hear the fireworks exploding above you and the cheering of the crowd around you, but soon all of them fade away until it’s just you and Aleksander out in the garden alone. You don’t notice the people cheering for the fireworks around you, and you certainly don’t notice Prince Nikolai eyeing you with a broken heart from across the garden. He’s heard much of your victories in battle, and he knows more about you then you thought. When you part from Aleksander, you see a smile on his face and you know that same smile is mirrored on your own face. 
»»————- ✼ ————-««
By the time you make it back into Aleksander’s room, the moon is at it’s peak in the sky but you don’t feel tired. You stand shyly in his doorway, usually this is around the time you’d bid the General goodnight and begin the short trek to your room. But you’re not ready to say goodnight, you’re not ready for tonight to be over just yet and you can only hope he isn’t either. You bite the inside of your cheek just as you turn to head back into the hallway. 
“Leaving so soon?” You hear his voice cut through the silence, and when you turn you see hurt flashing in his eyes. Does he want you to stay? 
“I assumed you’d want me to go...like I normally do.” You say softly, your cheeks burning hot. 
“Stay.” Is all he says, and it’s all you need to hear. You take a few steps into his room, shutting the door softly behind you. Aleksander crosses the room to you, his hands cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips back onto his. Your hands grab at the lapels of his Kefta, drawing him ever closer to you. His lips move languidly against yours before the kiss grows more desperate, his hands yanking your legs around his waist as he lifts you easily. His palms rest on the globes of your ass, quickly turning you and placing you down on the desk, not caring about the papers that are sent scattering off the desk. Your hands are trembling as your fingers work to unfasten the buttons of his Kefta. His hands don’t know where to touch first, gently grasping at the underside of your breasts before trailing down your curves, feeling how the dress hugs you so perfectly. 
“G-General!” You gasp as his lips latch onto your pulse point, his hands digging into your hips. You finally unbutton his Kefta completely, pushing the fabric from his shoulders as soon as it’s freed. You yank at his dress shirt until its untucked from his pants, and his hands reach up your back to pull at the zipper securing your dress. 
“Desperate?” Aleksander teases as he slowly pulls the zipper down your dress, the shoulders falling down your arms. You nod frantically, in truth you’ve never felt this desperate for anybody in your whole life. Your palms cup his cheeks, pulling his lips back to yours as his hands pull your dress down your body until it bunches at your waist. You’re practically panting against his lips as one of Aleksander’s hands slides up your thigh before he pulls away from you. He pulls back, just far enough that your lips can’t reach his. You try anyway, leaning forward and chasing his lips with an open mouth. He chuckles softly but stays just out of reach. 
“What’s wrong?” You whine, your hands resting on his shoulders. Aleksander has a smile on his face, his hands are still on your hips, holding you tightly. He can’t believe that you’re here in front of him, letting him kiss you, letting him undress you. If only you knew all of the terrible things he’s done with the very same hands that are touching you, you’d probably want nothing to do with him. Aleksander brushes that thought away. 
“Nothing, I just wanted to take in the moment.” He smiles but you groan, pulling helplessly at his shirt. He chuckles before leaning back towards you, pressing his lips to yours again. He loves that you’re so eager for him, so needy for him. Aleksander finishes pushing your dress down your legs, leaving you in nothing more than a pair of panties. His hands reach up to cup the underside of your breasts, his lips moving quickly against yours. Your hands reach to the hem of his shirt, and you part briefly to pull his dress shirt over his head. 
“Sure about this?” Aleksander mumbles against your lips as his hand dips into your panties to drag a finger through your drenched folds. You nod helplessly against his lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders when he pushes a lewd finger into your tight opening. He thrusts his finger into you quickly, loving the desperate whines coming from your lips. 
“Words please.” He says softly, quickly pressing a second finger into you. Your nails press crescent moons into his shoulders when he crooks his fingers into you, making you squeal. 
“Yes, yes I’m sure about this.” You gasp, his thumb making contact with your clit and rubbing tight little circles. Your lips press firmly to his again, and he swallows all of your moans. Aleksander groans softly when he feels you grind your hips into his hand, your back arching as his other hand slides up your stomach to pinch your nipple. 
“God all I want is you Aleksander-” You moan, saying his real name for the first time. Hearing you moan his name has shivers trembling down his back, and his fingers pulling out of your tight heat. Your hands are reaching for the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the button before you give up and Aleksander is swatting your hands away. He quickly undoes his pants and reaches into them to pull his hardening cock out. With one hand, he rips your panties from your body, leaving you naked and sprawled across his desk. It’s not a sight he’ll ever forget. He steps into your spread legs, one hand on his cock and the other hand on your hip as he presses his tip against your slippery folds. Your hands pull his chest against yours as you press your face into his neck when he pushes into you. Both of you release a moan simultaneously when you feel him stretching you open. 
“Please tell me this isn’t a one time thing-” 
“Stop talking.” He growls before pressing his lips against yours as he continues to work himself inch by inch into you. You mewl against his lips as he bottoms out, his tip nestled against the spot that makes your toes curl. It burns just a bit, but you’re still panting against him as he stays completely still inside you. You try to pull your hips back but his hands lock you in place, a playful smile on his face as he watches you roll your hips. His pupils are blown open in lust as he holds you against him, and he feels you growing wetter by the second. You want him to move so badly, you feel tears of frustration pushing at the backs of your eyes as you weakly try to once again get him to move inside you. 
“Move please.” You beg shamlessly and Aleksander presses a quick kiss to your lips. 
“You have to promise me something first.” He says softly and you groan, rolling your hips desperately again. He’s so hard inside you, you can feel your walls squeezing him tightly. 
“Anything!” You nearly cry out, you ignore him when you hear him chuckle softly. 
“Promise me that you’re mine. I can’t have anybody else seeing you this way.” Aleksander growls, starting to feel a little impatient himself. Your hands pull his bare chest against yours, your lips a hair’s distance away from his. 
“I promise. I’m yours, only yours.” You promise, your hips wriggling against his once more. Seemingly satisfied, Aleksander pulls his hips back and slams back into you, causing you to cry out as he sets a brutal pace. He slams into you, ramming his tip against your g-spot repeatedly. You cry out as his lips latch onto your neck, leaving bruises in his wake as he bites and suckles any skin he can find. Your arms wind around his shoulders as he slams into you, reducing you to nothing more than a boneless moaning mess underneath him. Your lips press to his and you kiss him with a fiery passion, your body rocking against his. Suddenly Aleksander pulls out, gently yanking you off the desk to bend you over it. Your toes barely touch the ground before he’s sliding into you again, taking you roughly from behind. You hear him hiss through clenched teeth as his hand runs up your spine to twist your hair around his hand. He yanks you up onto your elbows by your hair, holding you in place as he keeps his brutal pace. 
“Oh yes, yes-” All you can do is cry out and moan underneath him, all of your thoughts reduced to nothing more than endless praises to his cock. His grip on your hair loosens before your upper body collapses against the desk again, and his hands move instead to your hips to draw your body back against him to meet his thrusts. Pulling you back against him allows him to ram even deeper inside you, and you can feel his tip hit your cervix every time he thrusts into you. One of his hands reaches around your body to pinch and roll your clit and as soon as he does you’re crying out and moaning like a bitch in heat. His teeth are clenched as he groans above you, you feel absolutely heavenly. 
“Fuck, fuck! Gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out helplessly, your hip bones screaming in pain every time they’re rammed against the edge of the desk. Aleksander doesn’t slow down even for a second, continuing to brutally pound into you, desperate to chase his own release. Aleksander yanks your torso up so that your back is pressed to his chest and one of his hands reaches down to roll your clit. You cry out desperately as your orgasm washes through you, causing you to clamp down around him tightly. Aleksander fucks up into you, slamming into your overstimulated body until you’re violently trembling and soon he’s cumming in hot spurts. Your exhausted body nearly collapses to the floor when he pulls out and steps away. Aleksander immediately reaches forward to catch you before you crumple to the floor. 
He scoops you into his arms and gently carries you to the bed, and you practically melt into the mattress. You see concern pooling in his eyes as he pulls the blankets over you, his thumbs brushing over the bruises on your neck and shoulders, plus the purple bruises on your hipbones from the desk. He leans down to press his lips to your gently and you smile into the kiss. 
“I know that look, stop worrying. I can Heal myself in the morning, I’m too tired now.” You reassure him and his worry eases a bit before he’s standing to turn out all of the lights and slide into the bed next to you. Aleksander reaches over to pull your limp body against his chest. Pressing a kiss to your head, he holds you against him tightly. 
“Did I go too hard?” He asks into the silence and you nuzzle into his warm chest. 
“It was perfect Aleksander.” You promise, pressing a kiss against his chest. He relaxes then with you in his arms. Soon he hears your breathing even out and he knows you’re asleep. Aleksander knows by now that he’s falling in love with you, but for your sake he has to keep his distance. He’ll have to find a new Healer, no matter how much it pains him to do so. If anybody found out the Black Heretic loved somebody, you’d be in grave danger and frankly, Aleksander is afraid of what he’d do if he ever lost you. His heart breaks when he remembers what he has to do tomorrow, but luckily it isn’t tomorrow yet and he can enjoy laying here with you sleeping in his arms. 
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thebadgerclan · 3 years
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Two Long Months
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader
Summary: Your husband is going away for two long months...
Sadness welled in your chest as you fastened your black kefta, twisting your hair into a simple braid, and zipping up your knee high leather boots.  There was to be a formal send off for your husband, who was travelling to the Fjerdan border for three weeks, taking him away from the Little Palace for nearly two months with travel time.  You knew it was necessary, knew that for Ravka to win the war against Fjerda, sacrifices needed to be made.  But still, you were selfish in the way that you wanted your husband with you, where you knew he was safe and could sleep in his arms at night.
Genya knocked at your door, poking her head inside.  “Everyone’s gathering in the courtyard,” she said, her ivory kefta smoothly falling over her body.  “Are you ready?”  You sighed, stepping back from the mirror.  “Not really.”  The tailor smiled, entering the room and taking your hands.  “I know.  I’d be a wreck if David was leaving for two months.  But you’ll be alright, I’ll be here the whole time to get on your nerves.”  You smiled, letting yourself laugh despite the lingering sadness at your husband’s departure.  “Come on, let’s go.”
Aleksander’s trips to various places in Ravka were far and few between since he married you, both of you wanting him home with you, but he was still the general, and when there was no one else who could be sent, Aleksander went without hesitation.  Well, with minimal hesitation, as leaving you was something that brought him more pain than anything else.  And when your husband did leave, especially on longer journeys, a formal send off was required.
Every Grisha in residence at the Little Palace was gathered on the drive, lined up by order, all facing the ornate black coach, six ebony stallions hitched before it.  Geyna squeezed your hand, taking her place with the Corporalki, while you stood near the coast, your status as the Darkling’s wife plain, both from where you were standing and by the color of your kefta.  You commanded a fair amount of respect from your fellow Grisha, but not so much as your husband, who made a room fall silent with a single glance.
Aleksander exited the Little Palace, flanked by Ivan and Fedyor, his oprichniki a few paces behind.  He smiled when he saw you, quickening his steps to reach you.  He took your hands when he reached you, pressing his lips to your knuckles.  “My beautiful wife,” he said, stepping closer to you.  “There is nothing I will miss more than your embrace.”  He bent to kiss your forehead, and you leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut.
When he pulled back, Aleksander turned to face the Grisha.  “I go for you,” he said, voice carrying.  “For your freedom, for your rights, for your liberty.  Fjerda will take no more of our men and women, they will know the wrath of Ravka.  This war shall not be in vain, but for a Ravkan victory, for a Grisha victory!”  The Grisha cheered, and you did as well, heart swelling with pride for your husband.
Ivan opened the door to the coach, and Aleksander turned to you.  “Is there anything I could say to convince you to stay?” you asked, mostly joking, but a part of you hoped he’d say yes.  But Aleksander shook his head.  “After that speech?  No, love, I’m sorry.”  The thought of two months apart, two months without your husband’s touch, without his arms around you, his love, made your heart ache, and you pulled him down into a kiss.
Aleksander immediately put his arms around you, pulling you flush to his body, one hand between your shoulders, the other on the small of your back.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer.  Your husband’s lips were firm yet soft against yours, pouring all the love he felt for you into the kiss, all the words neither of you could bring yourselves to say just now.
He never cared about kissing you in front of others; Aleksander loved his wife, and he wasn’t afraid to show each and every one of his soldiers just how much.  He kissed you deep and long, dipping you slightly as he did.  He wouldn’t get to kiss your perfect lips for two months, he wanted to soak up every second of you.  After a long few minutes, Aleksander pulled back, taking in your beautifully flushed face, lips slightly swollen, and he couldn’t help but drop a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you, Y/N,” he said, lips lingering on your skin.  “I love you so much, and I’ll miss you so much.”  “I love you too, Aleksander.  Please, be safe, come home to me.”  “I will, my love, you have my word.”  With one last kiss, Aleksander entered the coach, followed by his heartrenders, and they were off.  You watched them go until they were just a speck on the horizon, already longing for him to return home to you.
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jomiddlemarch · 2 years
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That when a fool’s eye lighteth on a Gem
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“I don’t want that cursed thing touching her skin. I won’t have it,” General Kirigan said, as curt as if he were giving orders in a battle, arms crossed. At least there was little chance he’d Summon his shadows with his hands balled up into fists, though his gaze was dark enough to make anyone uneasy. “Raise the neckline of the gown—”
“Aleksander, she can’t do that,” Alina interrupted. “First of all, you do know Genya’s not an actual tailor, don’t you?”
“I’m sure I can do something, sir,” Genya said. She was well aware of how much power they each wielded and their manner thereof; it would not do to frustrate the General unless she had no other choice and if she had no other choice, it would be a disappointment, not a frustration, and he would recognize that and her own dismay.
“Also, it’s not ‘that cursed thing,’” Alina went on, undeterred. She was beautifully flushed and her dark eyes were very bright. Genya would have little actual Tailoring to do after finishing her court coiffure with the gold filet. “It’s the Lantsov emerald and I agree, it’s rather opulent, but that’s royalty for you—”
“It’s a shackle and a claim,” General Kirigan said. “Made by Pyotr’s bastard, that insolent whelp.”
“Aleksander! You can’t say things like that,” Alina exclaimed. She was genuinely shocked and Genya thought again how innocent she was, for all her vast ability, how naïve, how much respect she was still convinced a title demanded. The General caught Genya’s eye and they shared a moment of bemusement, the duration of a hummingbird’s flutter, as vivid as the tiny bird’s brilliant throat.
“I am not subject to the Tsar’s rule in the Little Palace,” he said. “Here, at least, the truth can be spoken. Here, the truth is essential, for we shall not thrive nor even survive the world without it. Tsar Pyotr is a cad, craven, led by his appetites. The boy is much the same, but has something of his mother in him that makes him more dangerous.”
“What do you mean?” Alina asked. She was the only one at the Little Palace who would speak so to General Kirigan, to inquire without begging permission or demonstrating how she had already applied her knowledge and skill to the question.
“He is not so confident in his assertions. He is more aware of how tenuous his position is, how he has not been given the title of Tsarevitch, nor even Duke or Count,” General Kirigan explained. “He understands how he much rely on not only his blood but his appearance, the attraction he holds for the ladies of Court, his talent in the hunt found favorable by the nobles.”
“What makes you so sure he couldn’t be your ally?” Alina said.
General Kirigan stepped closer to her, reached out and touched, very gently, the green gem where it lay against her décolletage, the curve of her breasts accentuated by the boning of the corset the formal court dress required; no kefta was so designed, though the embroidery might suggest the form within. He let his fingers linger on the jewel and then stroked along the links of the chain, taking care not to touch her skin. Genya schooled her face to a polite indifference, wondering at the degree of trust the General was evincing her though his focus seemed to be Alina exclusive and entire.
“This,” he said, his tone a mixture of tenderness and acuity such as Genya had never heard from him, nor any other man. “He gave you a gift that was not his to offer and offered me an insult he cannot imagine I fail to see, a threat he cannot make good. He would make you an object. His. What a fool he is! I could never admit his degree of stupidity to any venture of mine, even if I could overlook his derogation of you as the Sun Summoner. It seems Pyotr’s idiocy is a dominant trait and Tatiana was wiser than I credited.”
There was a moment of silence as General Kirigan let his hand fall away from Alina and Alina furrowed her brow in thought. Genya waited for Alina to understand. It didn’t take as long as she’d expected.
“Prince Nikolai isn’t the Tsar’s son,” Alina said.
“No, he is not. And this emerald was part of his mother’s dowry. He will not be well-pleased to discover Malyen has had it reset into this pendant,” General Kirigan said.
“I didn’t think Prince Nikolai would be at the ball,” Alina said.
“Neither did Malyen,” he replied. “Again, it was rank folly to try and predict Nikolai’s next move.”
“But you expect him to come,” Alina said. “You are sure—”
“I have known Nikolai longer. I have known the Lantsov family longer and my insight is not mine alone, dependent on only my own gaze,” General Kirigan said, glancing over at Genya. It was an unusual form of gratitude, of respect and debt, and Genya found she had wanted it very much, though she would not have felt it owed if she had recognized her own desire.
“It will amuse Prince Nikolai to see the necklace shortened, made demure, like a young lady’s first time-piece,” Genya said. “I am not as fine a Fabrikator as Mr. Kostyk, but I can remove enough links to accomplish the goal and add gauze fichu to the dress itself. Miss Starkov will make quite a different impression than the one Orestev sought. Any interest he displays in her will seem prurient, even among the most dissipated at court. Would you,” here she let herself regard them each in turn, “like me to proceed?”
“As Miss Starkov wishes,” General Kirigan said.
“Is it wise?” Alina asked.
“Wise enough,” General Kirigan answered, smiling for the first time since Alina had emerged from her dressing room. If Genya were not present, she was sure he would have whispered the words into Alina’s parted lips or in the hollow behind her ear, his hands at her waist. “The Tsar has never before given primacy to Malyen—he’s not likely to begin over this. And Nikolai will be entertained, as Miss Safin has said. He is the rare man, to give his trust to those who delight him, but he understands what degree of comprehension is critical for enjoyment. I would not consider him a friend, nor even an ally, but this would be a tie, one he would respect if we were to call upon him.”
“Then by all means, Genya, alter this and fetch the scarf and let’s be done with it all,” Alina said, starting to reach behind her neck to the clasp of the pendant.
“Let me, moya dusha,” General Kirigan said and now, finally, Genya looked away, unwilling to see what should only be between them, an intimacy that belonged to the marriage they could not yet make, no matter how much they each wanted it. She turned, walking swiftly towards the doors of the Vezda chamber, forcing herself to think about the length of sea silk she would use for Alina’s gown, blinking away the image of General Kirigan with his arms around Alina, his hand resting on the nape of her neck, the most infinitesimal margin between their bodies, the echo of his voice muttering you’re mine.
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fierte-verte · 3 years
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Alphabets (SFW): The Darkling
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A-dventure
* Despite the mountain of duties and agendas that befall Aleksander’s shoulders, you know a part of him craves the relief only adventure can provide 
* He insists, with Ravka’s delicate politics and a brewing war on the verge of outbreak, that “fooling around” simply isn’t an affordable option
* With some help from Fedyor and Genya, however, who know just as well that a wound up general is no good news, you manage to secure a few unchaperoned horse rides into the outskirts of Os Alta
* Though initially reluctant, he soon warms up to the idea of quiet, uninterrupted afternoons with his favorite Grisha
* It’ll be the two of you in meadows of budding bellflowers and daisies, strolling at a leisurely pace with your shoulders brushing against each other, and wearing poorly concealed smiles that threaten to break the coy atmosphere
B-est friend
* Friendship is a foreign concept to Aleksander—he’s lost so many soldiers and allies along the way that companionship comes across as a costly luxury
* He never denies a want for connection, but years of loneliness have made him wary of affection, or the possible ways it could be exploited as a weakness
* His displays of attachment take on more materialistic, subtle forms: beautifully embroided keftas, saddles made of the highest quality leather, soothing bath oils, and other gifts designed for self-care 
* To others, such behavior may look superficial, but you’ve known him long enough to recognize it carries all his efforts to become a better friend and confidante  
C-ommitment
* Aleksander understands all about the importance of committing to a plan, or a deal, or a treaty that is void of any emotional prerequisites; committing to a person, however, that he has nearly no clue of 
* To him, pledging devotion to a living being, breathing and capable of breaking him and everything he’s endured to build, frightens him to the core
* In fact, you frighten him to the core sometimes, with the way he so willingly allows you glimpses into what’s beneath his carefully curated mask 
* It’s a long journey to have Aleksander open up, and it can be a constant struggle to remember that for every one step forward, it holds the risk of pushing him three steps back
D-ynamics
* You’re dealing with possibly the most complicated man to exist of all time, and that alone signals quite an interesting relationship
* Often it’s a blend of push and pull, testing the waters, unnecessary pining, witty banter, and moments of intimate bonding over grief and hope
* You and Aleksander surprise each other more than you realize; there’s sides to yourselves that only become pronounced in one another’s presence
E-ntertainment
* No one’s immune to the pleasures of gossiping—the big, bad, brooding Darkling included
* He tries to keep a straight face, but the sight of you leaning against his desk, half-heartedly whispering about the Little Palace’s most scandelous affairs, makes his hectic day much more bearable 
* When he does have a less strenuous schedule, however, he’d visit you at the training grounds and watch you mentor the younger Grishas with a twinkle in his eyes 
F-ight
* Though bearing a fair share of impressive qualities, Aleksander is, at the very least, also dramatic and short-tempered; there’s really no telling how he’ll react to the smallest of things 
* Most of your fights are no product of small nuisances; they’re accumulations of pent-up frustrations and worries, a mutual shortcoming that you both know requires dire improvement  
*  When angered and threatened, it takes every fibre of his being not to revert to his usual guarded self—the ruthless, cold, and exhausted shell he donned before meeting you
* The entire palace has learnt to recognize when you and Aleksander are in conflict—your willingness to throw icy looks at one another anytime and anywhere speaks volumes  
G-rowth
* Loving Aleksander is no easy feat, and learning to understand his insecurities has given you a greater capacity for empathy, tolerance, and, above all, forgiveness 
* Grishas who grow up in the Little Palace tend to be sheltered, disconnected even, from the outer world, but being with him has made you tougher and more prepared for the horrors that await you in reality
* Aleksander’s wounds run deep, sometimes scarring into vengeance that renders him a creature of immense greed; but loving you has taught him the value of vulnerability, that it need not always be a sign of undoing
* There’s strength in weakness too, he realizes, when weakness breeds hope to carry on regardless of the road ahead
H-abit
* Aleksander denies the act, but whenever he manages to outdo a formidable opponent, tackle a tricky dispute, or draw a smile onto your face, the general squints his eyes in ill-contained glee
* There’s also the barely visible furrow between his brows, reserved for his darling Tsar and Tsaritsa, which you always remember to kiss away in private settings
* In the mornings, he’ll attempt to stay in bed with you as long as possible; nonetheless, when duty calls, he never forgets to give you a small peck on the head
I-ntimacy
* True to his mysterious persona, Aleksander treasures privacy greatly, preferring to share intimacy behind close doors and the familiarity of your chambers
* He revels in the feeling of you in his arms, your fingers threading through his hair, or the pulsing beneath his lips when they’re pressed against your neck
* Being close to you physically gives him a sense of security, but even so, it’s nowhere near the satisfaction that comes with the bonding you do emotionally
J-ealousy
* Surprise surprise, he is quite familiar with an old friend named envy; after all, Aleksander’s possessiveness constitutes half, if not most, of your headaches
* Your role as assistant trainer garners you a fair amount of popularity and attention from Grishas, both children and adult—the latter of which triggers every single overprotective gene he holds
* In all honesty, you find his reactions nothing short of childish or irritating, but it’s also heartbreaking to realize why they exist in the first place
* Nevertheless, you approach this flaw of his with a good balance of gentle reassurance and firm chiding, confident in his ability to best it with time
K-isses
* Contrary to expectations, Aleksander is a gentle lover—his kisses are firm but never forceful, tender and soothing and always redolent of home
* When your lips touch and you feel the slight scratch of his stubble on your skin, a soft heat spreads from your chest, arms, to every part that you share with him wholeheartedly
L-uxury
* Neither of you are particularly frugal individuals—for Aleksander, luxury is a token of success and his ability to care for his kind; for you, it’s a pleasure appropriate in small doses
* Besides, any small opportunity to milk the Tsar of his money is a victory in itself, and the two of you bear no hesitance in using it to pamper other Grishas 
M-emory
* Aleksander’s favorite memory is the first time you launched yourself into his arms, elated at his return from a risky trip to negotiate with Zlatan; the warmth of your body pressed into his and the puffs of laughter you’d released continues to ground him in moments of turmoil 
* Yours would be the night when he’d gazed into your eyes and whispered his true name, with no one but the stars witnessing your intimate exchange; he was no longer General Kirigan but the Aleksander you had come to love so fiercely
N-icknames
* You rarely address him as moi soverennyi or Darkling, but when you do it steals his breath away without fail
* He calls you solnyshkoh (little sun), oomnitsa (clever one), or the occasional sweetling as a cheeky homage to his other title
O-ccupation
* You understand Aleksander’s ambition will one day outgrow his position as general of the Second Army, and that his plans to reunite Ravka will be impressive and dangerous in every fathomable way
* But for now, until the time is right, he will continue to serve the foolish Tsar 
* You, on the other hand, will take over and lead the general learning curriculum, ridding any dated teaching methods and guiding your Grishas to the best of their potential 
P-arenthood
* Parenthood hasn’t been a priority for you and Aleksander—his responsibilities keep him from considering it seriously, and you care for the palace’s young Grishas as if they were your own
* Like any pleasant surprise in life, however, it comes to you as an uncalled but precious gift
* Reminded of his own unhappy childhood, Aleksander strives to give your daughter the support and space she requires to flourish, be it as a Grisha or just a person of goodwill and strength
 Q-uirks
* The annoyingly picky eater he is, Aleksander has a major contempt against condiments in his beverages—he won’t take his tea and coffee if it’s not black 
* Conversely, as an endearing trait, he’ll scrunch his nose every time he’s about to sneeze, laugh, or moan 
R-econcile
* You two aren’t very wordy when it comes to the first steps of reconciling, too much time spent apart from each other renders you touch-deprived
* That being said, knowing communication to be the greatest obstacle in your relationship, you always make sure to secure a serious conversation later on
S-ecrets
* Though he’d placed his life in your hands without a second thought, the lingering fear of driving you away with his ambition makes some of his ideals extremely difficult to share
* Because of your impending mortality and the limitations to your power, loving him brings about waves of dread and self-doubt that come and go
T-rust
* Aleksander struggles with depending on others, and would much prefer operating on his own, but there’s no doubt to the amount of trust he places in your character and abilities
* In return, you honor his trust by instilling faith in his disposition, or giving him the benefit of the doubt and room to revise his decisions
U-nderstanding
* Aleksander’s led a long life of trial and conflict, and while others would shy away from his stoic and indifferent demeanor, you understand it as a protective mechanism that’d become disposable with support and patience
* At the same time, he understands that he’s a broken and bad man in many ways, one undeserving of your affection without redemption and acknowledgement of all his demons
V-ows
* After realizing the pain his creation has brought to all sides, including his people, Aleksander promises to seek the fold’s destruction and generate other means to strengthen the country
* You promise to take good care of yourself and stay healthy, so that Ravka may still be led to a better future should anything happen to him
W-ar
* You two have fought side by side in countless wars—some against foes like Zlatan and the Fjerdans, others with people you’ve once called friend
* But amid the chaos and cruelty of it all, you endured for each other, yourselves, and the family you’ve built 
* There exists a mutual acknowledgement between you and Aleksander that nothing is more important than the well-being of your kind  
X-tra
* To Aleksander’s chagrin, you’ve dubbed yourself the unofficial matchmaker of the Little Palace, bringing together couples like Genya and David with unrivalled enthusiasm
* He’s had to aid your schemes here and there with feined reluctance, though everyone knows it doesn’t take more than a pout for their general to comply
* You’ve also heard the young Grisha you teach address him as Mister (y/l/n), a revelation that you remind him of constantly with the smuggest expression
Y-outh
* His youth is a dark place he never wishes to visit again, but Aleksander finds comfort knowing that yours was filled with happiness 
* And the more he opens up to you about his past, the more determined you are to build a brighter future with and for him 
Z-zz
* If there’s one thing that will cause an upheveal in Os Alta, it’s the sight of Aleksander Morozova fast asleep
* In fact, you like to tease him about how tame and relaxed he looks, with his normally impeccable hair and clothes dishevelled
* Of course, that just prompts him to disagree with you in relatively pleasurable manners, but won’t that be the goal in the first place anyway? 
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booksinsteadofdrugs · 3 years
Text
the cast of shadow and bone. was. perfect.
alina was straight out of the books. jessie portrayed her stubbornness, naivety, and confusion incredibly. from the way she denied her power at first, to the moment where she took it back from the darkling and claimed it hers. jessie mei li is the sun summoner, and we couldn't have asked for a better one.
malyen was even better than the malyen we've seen in the books. archie did a fantastic job with the character (he needs to be praised more considering his character is one of the most unnecessarily hated characters of all time and he was given hard time by some fans from the moment he was cast for the show). he was brave, loyal and charming the whole time. they added depth to his character with those keramzin flashbacks and both jessie and archie turned malina's bond into something more pure and more sweet. archie's acting was also one of the highlights of this show for me. he was just perfect.
i believe ben barnes was born to play the darkling, and no. i'm not being dramatic. he's captured the darkling's intimidating, manipulating yet charming nature so well. he wasn't just trying to manipulate alina, he was also manipulating the audience to think he is just a misunderstood man, paying the price of his ancestors' crimes. he was the best casting choice i've seen in a long time. the fact that he's older than anyone in the cast adds more layer to the darkling's image, i believe. in every scene he screams authority. from his posture to the way he's spitting out the words, we can see that ben has been working hard on this character. and personally, i'm so grateful for that.
the crows. they. were. incredible. i have no words. amita suman is literally the inej that everyone imagined while reading the books. she managed to capture every little detail about inej. especially seeing how her faith was affecting her decisions when it comes to killing was amazing. and the way she didn't hesitate to kill when kaz was in danger. and her admiration for alina. god, i just love inej so much. freddie did a spectacular job with kaz. he was incredible. i remember seeing inej and jesper flinching and turning their heads when alexei was shot, but kaz stood their like a statue, not moving an inch. without blinking. because he already knew what was gonna happen. also, i loved how he constantly denied believing alina was a saint until he finally did, and it was for inej. the way freddie always watched amita in scenes, always making sure she's nearby made me smile like an idiot. he had a purpose in every scene, he was never just standing there for show. that's the kaz brekker we know. he always has a plan and freddie portrayed kaz's confidence, his cunning nature and his faith in his crew so well. jesper was incredible. i could feel how much love kit has for his character from the way he played with his guns to the way he walked, he was literally just having fun with his character. i loved how tense he looked in ravka sometimes, not forgetting his character's abilities. he portrayed jesper's playful nature amazingly and it was a delight seeing him in this character. he made me laugh countless times throughout the season, and i can't wait to see more of him (especially with wylan) god, i love him so much.
nina and matthias. their chemistry. dude. i can't even speak. i feel like all the people who complained about danielle not fitting the nina image they had in their mind owe danielle an apology. because she was just perfect. i know i've used this word so many times but there's honestly no other way to describe it. danielle and calahan were literally shining together. the sexual tension was so tense. they were impeccable and netflix, i'm begging you, please give them more scenes in the next season. they made me scream, they made me laugh, and they made me cry. calahan portrayed matthias's superstitious and innocent personality so great. and the way nina was constantly flirting with him to make him embarrassed, they were literally the book helnik. i love them so much.
zoya. my queen. i wasn't expecting her to have this much screentime anf i was scared they were going to use her as a background character since she didn't have much part in the first book but wow, sujaya made sure to steal every scene she was in. she was always fierce, ambitious and gorgeous the whole time. you just can't stop yourself from adoring her. and she portrayed zoya's character development so beautifully. especially in the last scenes. i can't wait to see her more in the next season, especially with nikolai. c'mon netflix, speed things up if you have to. i want to see them together.
genya and david were great too. especially in the scene where we see genya with her new kefta gave me chills. knowing what she had to do to get it was intense. daisy was great as genya, her movements were always elegant, and we could sense the injustice that happened to her considering the few scenes she was in, especially without being explained clearly. luke pasqualino is a comedic genius. i loved seeing his awkward yet adorable david portrayal so much. especially his uncomfortable silence after genya says "see you at the fete". his uncertain movements and the way he raised his finger before speaking was hilarious. i loved their stolen glances at the winter fete. i need more of them, like, right now.
and also i wanna thank the writers for making ivan and fedyor gay. they were the couple i didn't know i need it. the way fedyor was feeding him was so cute. it even made me feel bad for ivan at the end when jesper shot him, although i didn't care for him in the books at all.
long story short, this cast made the characters even more likeable than the books. which is so rare considering all the horrible book to screen adaptations. they were all perfect. and they earned my gratitude for taking time to read the books, and do their job so well.
they did justice to leigh's work and i can't be more proud.
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cheekygreenty · 3 years
Text
Little Witch - Part 21
The Darkling x Reader
The atmosphere in the Palace was welcoming and enjoyable yet you couldn't help but dampen the mood of those around you. Your smiles were visible fake, your laughs as forced as the diplomacy of the evening. It was hard to focus on anything but the Queen's request, you could still feel her cold touch on your hands, could still hear her voice as if she was standing next to you. Some would say being in the presence of the Royals was a blessing by the Saints, but to you it was a sudden blight; a curse.
The duties and obligations you had were out the window now as you looked for the particular head of red flame hair, completely ignoring the Kerch ambassador and his slurring words of trade agreements.
Did Genya tell her General that the charming Lantsov Prince was soon to be wed to the Deputy of the Second-army? Or did she keep that part to herself? You had a feeling it was the latter given Aleksander's behavior earlier but what if he knew- What if his obedient spy told him everything and he was looking at your predicament as an opportunity, even though it would hurt you to the core and shatter your moral values. There's nothing he wouldn't do for more power.
'Deputy Y/L/N, I presume?' A man in a military uniform adorned with colorful medals approached you from the side, silently shooeing the Kerch man away and taking his place despite your obvious air of hostility. You were in no mood for diplomacy.
'The one and only.'
'So I have heard.' You could make out the smallest tinge of an accent reminiscent of a Fjerdan rhythm through the spoken words. His blonde hair and long beard tell-tale signs of his druskelle service and enough for your anger to flare. 'Tell me, what kind of Grisha are you?' You didn't miss the disgust dripping from the word as he forced it through his teeth. No doubt he hated himself for being here.
'A powerful one.'
'More powerful than the Sun-Summoner?'
'Much.'
'I won't forget that.'
'I hope you don't. Tell your people too, it'll save me some time and perhaps some lives.'
'Is that a threat Deputy?'
'Yes' He snorted and looked around the lively room.
'Fjerda isn't here to fight tonight, we're here to party. I thought it would be the same for you, no?'
'I don't keep peace with people who wish my kind dead.'
'Neither does your General. But the West, I'm not too sure they're on the same page'
You bit back the urge to smack the tall man stone-cold. The West was a tricky situation that had been playing heavily on your mind for as long as you could remember. Although it was Ravka, Grisha were no longer safe there. Zlatan was coercing with the Fjerdans to capture Grisha in exchange for military backup and as much as it angered you to keep the First-Army General alive, it would create a whole other problem if he was found dead.
'West Ravka is Ravka. All Zlatan is is a mere General of the First-Army. He's no King.'
'You would be surprised. People would listen to a stableboy if he spoke of truth and justice.'
'And would Fjerda back him up too?'
He smirked and gave a nod of his head in amusement at your raging eyes. 'You drüsje get so worked up over words. It's actions that matter.'
'Not here in Ravka. Remember where and what you are. Then think of what half of this room can do to you' Without so much as a goodbye, you walked away from him with a huff and continued looking for Genya. You hadn't even seen Aleksander make an appearance yet but you didn't think you wanted to see him, not after your conversation with the Queen.
We wish for you to marry my son
Every time you thought you had shaken the haunting request, it came back with a shiver up your spine. It went against everything you ever believed in. You hated the crown, the Lantsov line, you hated the Ravka they created. But this didn't feel like something you could reject. It wasn't a proposal, it was an alliance.
You turned your head to the doors and watched as Zoya clambered up the stairs in her stunning blue silk kefta. Behind her, a Suli performer climbed up on her silks as if it were all she'd ever known. Her body swung gracefully and smoothly, not batting an eyelid at all her observers. It was memorizing and distracting, something for which you were thankful.
'Haven't you got some Dukes and Ministers to babysit?' Zoya appeared beside you, eyeing up the empty glass in your hand.
'Let them roam free for the night'
'As long as they're not groveling over me'
'Because your presence is so much more captivating than the Sun-Summoners' You rolled your eyes and made your way to get a new, full, glass.
'Thank you for finally admitting it'
'Where's Genya Saffin?'
She made a face and took a glass to, bringing it up to her lips and taking a small sip.
'With Alina. Why?'
'Oh nothing, just some details to hash out about Marie attending dinner' You covered up. 'I spoke with a Fjerdan dignitary. He had no problem hiding that West Ravka is coming to their aid.' Zoya was a good soldier and a great tactician, if you were to tell anyone such sensitive information, it would definitely be Zoya.
'I overheard a Zemeni ambassador say they were spotted at Zlatan's rallies. He's raising his ranks whilst our own coffers run out. We can't afford a war with each of our borders'
'Try telling the King that' The Lantsov King. Nikolai's father. Nikolai.
'Saints are you alright?' Zoya looked at you with wide eyes, then to the broken glass crumbling in your hand. You had been clutching it so hard you managed to smash it and slice the palm of your hand.
'Oh umm- I need a moment' You disposed of the glass on a nearby table and basically ran to the nearest washroom. Crimson red blood dripped slowly from your fingers as you tried to keep it from staining your kefta while you closed the door behind you.
This was the first moment since your talk with the Queen where you were alone. Truly alone, no ambassador looming over your shoulder or a Duke at your side. Alexander, Alina, and Genya were still nowhere to be seen and the demonstration would begin shortly but all you wanted to do was stay in this tiny and stuffy room, shut off from everything. You washed your hand down with water, hissing in pain as the water tinted red and carried away the signs of injury. The quarters were quiet and calm, a stark contrast to the liveliness in the hall not often seen in the Little Palace.
The Little Palace tended to be quiet, but the Grand Palace was different. The Grand Palace. The winter home of the Lantsovs. Nikolai. Marriage.
The gentle tears came like a surprise, rolling down your face with grace. 'Fuck me' was all you could say as your head rested on your uninjured hand. You still felt exhausted and overwhelmed now even more so but you liked to think you hid it well. What good was a Deputy in emotional turmoil at a party full of political vultures?
The door to the small space suddenly opened and none other than Genya Saffin walked in with ease only she possessed. She looked at you in shame then fixed her attention on her shoes, not meeting your broken gaze.
'I take it you spoke with Tatiana?'
'Why didn't you tell General Kirigan?' You sniffed and wrapped your hand in a handkerchief, not bothering to wipe away the tears that you continued to cry.
'I felt it wasn't my place'
'Why?' Your voice cracked, slightly distracting you but the meaning to your question was obvious. Why me?
'She wished to squelch his bastardry rumors with your standing reputation.'
'Does he know?'
'She wrote him, but he has yet to respond.'
'Why not Vasily? Is it to make sure a Grisha never sits on the throne?'
She stayed quiet, toying with her sleeve. 'She says you have the air of a false Queen but the mind of a demon'
'Nothing new there' You laughed and straightened up, using the handkerchief on your hand to pat your face dry, diminishing any last sign of your weak moment away. 'Is Alina ready?' She looked at you with pure pity on her face, the compassion bursting on her face busting at its seams.
'Yes. Last I saw she was with the General.'
'Thank you Ms.Saffin'
***
You didn't mean to miss the demonstrations, but you took your time walking back to the main hall anyway. It was only when you saw the darkened room and searing light did you stop dead in your tracks at the door. Alina stood there on the podium, the image of a Saint. Her black and gold kefta shimmered in her light beautifully, illuminating her face and smile. She was glowing. Her powers had brought her not only luxurious life but good health, something everyone prays for. The black looked well on her too. It set her apart from the sea of bright keftas and gowns. In a Palace full of Grisha and powerful members of society, only Alina and Aleksander wore the black keftas, not even you wore it tonight and it made you feel surprisingly insecure.
He stood to her side, enthralled by her show of strength and skill. He was fascinated with her, it showed in his eyes and on his face but it definitely wasn't a facade. Even watching them from afar you could see that he looked at her as if she was his Sun, the only thing capable of lighting up his night sky.
You didn't know how to look at her. Everyone around you was worshipping her, whispering silent prayers to Sankta Alina: the Sun Saint, but you stayed frozen and still. You were never faithful to the Saints, they never listened to you, so what good would pledging your allegiance to Alina be if you knew Aleksander planned to extort her?
The whole room was kneeling now, heads bent down in symbols of submission yet you stood. No doubt you stuck out like a sore thumb, but a leader does not bow to anybody, not even the Saints. He momentarily turned his head to look at you but his eyes were far from the softness he gave Alina. They spoke more than his smooth words ever could yet this time the silent exchange did nothing to soothe your muddled head.
A tap on your shoulder caused you to break your burning gaze away from the summoners and to a guard instead.
'Deputy, we have 2 First-Army soldiers who claim to have found Morozova's Stag' The Stag. Just my luck.
'Tell the General, I have no business with the stag' You waved him off and returned your stare back to the room, scanning the crowd like a hawk when her eyes caught yours. Queen Tatiana was looking through to your soul, demolishing any confidence you could muster at that moment.
Marry my son.
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Part 22
Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!) @theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy @carlywhomever @allisjustok @keepdaydreamingbb @luciadiosa
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luciadiosa · 3 years
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Dragonfire - Blood
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Masterlist
Part 2
(Attention: Trigger Warning Blood)
His gaze pierces yours. Captures him. How could one not sink into his dark eyes, which almost resembled the shadow fold? An eternity seemed to pass and the light from the lamps in the tent faded behind him. Dark shadows grew larger. Crawling in your direction. He wanted to intimidate you. His eyes narrowed and he took a step closer. He shouldn't have done that. Because at that moment, a short cough attacked you and you could no longer keep your lips closed. A couple of drops of blood spilled onto the dark man's face and kefta, while the rest dripped to the floor. You put a hand on your mouth. Kirigan has closed his eyes out of reflex. "I'm sorry ..." you say behind the hand. Your teeth are greasy of blood and saliva.
Kirigan half opens his eyes and looks at you. He didn't even flinch his face. He isn’t pleased. Who would like to have blood in the own face?  Just one eyebrow twitch, than he blink sometimes. Little drops of blood hang on his lashes. Why have man always so beautiful lashes? You think by youreself. Fedyor's gaze spoke volumes. The heartrender thought his General would go kill his new soldier. But contrary to what he thought, the shadows dissolved again. “Y / N is my name.” “So Y / N. And where are you from? ” “I have no home. I've been on the run since I was little girl. Since they found out I am grisha."
You hold the fixed gaze that pierces you until it went to the sword in your hand. You grasp the handle tightly. "A mercenary is more easily overlooked than a Grisha and somehow I have to defend myself without being detected.", You explain and his gaze goes back to your face.
 Your body is weak, hurt, and yet your eyes showed no fear. The hand of the dark goes up and grabs your chin. It didn't bother him that your blood was now running between his fingers, to touch your dirty face. He wanted you to look in his eyes without opinion to look away. He wanted to intense his words. "You don't have to flee anymore and you definitely don't have to hide your skill." He was impressed by your steadfastness. Not just to him, but mostly because of your injuries. “You will join the second army. Not just because I order it. Because of your safety. You are among your kind now. Please feel welcome.” Most of them buckle in front of him but not you. He lets go of you and turns away. “Fedyor take her to the healers. They should take care of giving her a kefta from the Etherealki and a bath.” He turns to you. “Yes, sir. ” Your gaze is on the general. You have no choice and yet you are happy to have arrived somewhere. After all these years of being alone, struggling to survive.You feel the gentle pull of Fedyor on your arm and follow him.
 __________________________________________
Present:
You sigh and look at Aleksander. You didn't have the best performance back then. Accidentally spit your blood on his face and kefta. "What?" He asks after hearing you sigh. "I thought back to when we first met." You explain and smile at him. "I remember. You were a pure portrait of the war and yet unbroken. The light not only broke beautifully in your eyes and made them shimmer. They were full of strength that day." “Were?” “Still are. You are a bad liar. You can always see it in your eyes. ”He explains. You sit up slightly and look at him. "Well, that's probably because I rarely lie." An amused smile plays on his lips. “Do you know what I was thinking in the moment you left my tent?” he asks and you respond with shaking your head. “I told Fedyor he should bring you to the healer. To let you take a bath and I was thinking: Maybe underneath all this dirt and blood there is a beautiful young Grisha.” You smile at him.
Part 4
Taglist <3:
@misselsbells06​  @aleksanderwh0r3​
@dark-night-sky-99    @edithsvoice​
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stromuprisahat · 3 years
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The Little Palace and Grishas’ lives in Second Army, pt. 1
Chapter 3-  Grisha tent
The tent’s inner walls were draped with cascades of bronze silk that caught the glimmering candlelight from chandeliers sparkling high above. The floors were covered in rich rugs and furs. Along the walls, shimmering silken partitions separated compartments where Grisha clustered in their vibrant kefta. Some stood talking, others lounged on cushions drinking tea. Two were bent over a game of chess. From somewhere, I heard the strings of a balalaika being plucked.
Chapter 5- oprichniki treating Grisha like normal fellow soldiers:
In the light from the fire, I watched the oprichniki sitting side by side with the Grisha. Some of them had already drifted away from the fire to bed down for the night. Others had been posted to the first watch. The rest sat talking as the flames ebbed, passing a flask back and forth. The Darkling sat with them. I’d noticed that he had taken no more than his share of the grouse. And now he sat beside his soldiers on the cold ground, a man second in power only to the King.
Chapter 5- Little Palace from the outside, coming from the Great Palace
We followed a path that curved behind the palace and deeper into the grounds, passing a hedge maze, a rolling lawn with a columned temple at its center, and a vast greenhouse, its windows clouded with condensation. Then we entered a thick stand of trees, large enough that it felt like a small wood, and passed through a long, dark corridor where the branches made a dense, braided roof above us.
The hair rose on my arms. I had the same feeling that I’d had as we were crossing the canal, that sense of crossing the boundary between two worlds.
When we emerged from the tunnel into weak sunshine, I looked down a gentle slope and saw a building like nothing I’d ever seen.
“Welcome to the Little Palace,” said the Darkling.
It was a strange name, because though it was smaller than the Grand Palace, the “Little” 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.
A charcoal-clad group of servants waited on the steps. I dismounted, and one of them rushed forward to take my horse, while others pushed open a large set of double doors. As we passed through them, I couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch the exquisite carvings. They had been inlaid with mother-of-pearl so that they sparkled in the early-morning light. How many hands, how many years had it taken to create such a place?
We passed through an entry chamber and then into a vast hexagonal room with four long tables arranged in a square at its center. Our footsteps echoed off the stone floor, and a massive gold dome seemed to float above us at an impossible height.
...
I meekly followed the woman in gray through another pair of double doors and into one of the smaller towers.
When I saw all the stairs, I almost broke down and wept. 
...
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.
pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8
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teacup-tyrant · 3 years
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SHADOW AND BONE REVIEW: EP 5
On this episode: Svengoolie's troupe of performers, 1870s ballgowns except not, terrible plans that aren't sneaky at all, Mr. Darcy Darkling, and I need to take a minute over this one particular moment or I may never recover.
- Why does the leader of this performance group remind me of Svengoolie??? He’s got the hair the hat and the mustache. Do you guys know him? Maybe this is just a Chicago thing.
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- More disguises for Kaz, he must be enjoying all this so much
- A WILD DAVID APPEARS! Um he is lovely, he can stay.
- Wahhhhhh Kaz is in pain bc of his leg, this hurts me emotionally and physically. Let him rest. One day. One day in 10 years maybe he will allow himself a rest.
- Full disclosure, I don’t remember a whole lot from the S&B books (only read them 1.5 times) but I remember butter week! Butter week is a wonderful thing.
- Aww this little carnival looks fun, I want to go. Reminds me of the Renaissance Faire.
- So... you’re just gonna grab Alina and walk away with her? What are you on about Kaz, that's the dumbest plan I've ever heard. There’s got to be something more sneaky to this.
- Arken. Who tf are you even. What are you doing here. What is going on here. I don’t get this plan at all.
- AlinaAAaAa! I thought her and the Darkling's whole deal would be more uncomfortable to watch but it isn't too bad. Good. I’m glad. Ok she kissed HIM and I think that made the difference. Did it happen that way in the book? I don't even remember. It’s still kind of weird but not AS weird.
- Ahahaha Jesper you’re such a flirt ahahahaha omg. I feel like... they might be playing him TOO MUCH for comic relief *dodges bullets*
- "She’s SULI." YES THE TRUE ZOYA COMES OUT
- I’m trying to historically place these fete costumes but I just cannot right now, I will need to have a think on this later. They look kind of 1870s to me but the necklines are weird and the fabric is wrong, but hey this is fantasy so it can really be whatever it wants. The thing I DO like about the costumes is all the embroidery tho, especially on all the keftas. I was kinda meh on these hair ornaments but I really like Alina’s
- Ah yes, Mr Darcy Darkling enters the ballroom and sneers at all the peasants.
- Alina you look so pretty! The black fur in her collar is *CHEF KISS*
- No wait, Inej in her oprichniki uniform is superior. Sorry, only Inej supremacy here. And actually sorry to you too Darkling, but Kaz has surpassed you as the most moody, miserable one in the room. Kaz and the Darkling even being IN the same room is just... blowing my mind, I’m gonna need a second here.
- Alina’s light-bending was beautiful. But what got me, what really got me was, of course, Inej saying Sankta Alina. Obvi this didn’t happen in the books, BUT Inej seeing her saint made me almost tear up. Alina has always been a very important person to her and Amita played this beautifully, where are my tissues
- get outa here Dima hahahahahaa
- How do you know it’s the right stag? Well it’s like a 50 point stag for one, and it hasn’t been mounted on anyone’s wall yet so that in itself is pretty magical
- Sorry Mal, Alina is Darkling's gf now, don't you remember?
- Oh Kazzzzzz what have you done, you just handed Arken a death sentence. Sneaky! I knew that first “plan” was never going to work.
- Did he just say plan F ahahahahahabaha I’m dead. See, that was a funny, witty Kaz moment. I want more funny witty Kaz but like... there hasn’t really been downtime for it so it’s ok
- Whaaat Inej told him "don’t take chances." That was cute, I wasn’t prepared for that cuteness. How dare you
- Heyyyy who do you think you are, throwing knives like Inej?!
- Dude, I fucking love these brutal fights, they are amazing. Thank you for blessing us with an adult rating for all this delicious violence
- Darkling thinking he’s about to get laid right now ahahaha smh
- Man that poor guy, Kaz framed him. You are a bad man sometimes, Kaz. :( Well, it’s ok we knew what we were getting into with him. And that's just an unfortunate consequence of working with Kaz Brekker. Sometimes you get murdered.
- Madame Hooch is here to save you, Alina! Take the broomstick and fly away!
- Seriously though, Baghra needs to sell me on this part right here bc I found it very flat in the book and it didn’t sell me at all.
- “He chose a nobleman's name.” Yeah, you mean Count Kirigan? The one with the wine cellars and where Nikolai tests all his machines? I was wondering how they were going to explain that one. Kirigan already exists and he isn't the Darkling so uhhh?
- Alina don’t make him the master of the Amplifier Deathly Hallows!
- Ugh. Man idk, it still feels so sudden. When you just get a character to tell instead of show it’s not as impactful. It’s like well lemme give you a 3 minute lore dump of why everything you've seen over the last 4 episodes is a like, and suddenly you’re on the other side now. It still feels kind of that way. It's like Gandalf in Frodo's kitchen telling him he has the One Ring. But there were flashbacks in that one and it worked really well (bc LotR does everything well, let's be real.) This still doesn't work for me and I wanted more out of this scene, boohoo.
- Kaz in a church is so hilarious to me. He should have burst into flames like a vampire ahahaha
- Are you making fun of his limp, motherfucker?! Ohoho he’s gonna kill you good and proper now
- KAZ, you let him live you son of a bitch, why have you done this?! (for people complaining about Show Kaz being too soft, I'll let you have this one. Book Kaz would have killed him 100%)
- Oh my god.
- OH MY GOD.
- OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
- I’m sorry, I’m am short-circuiting.
- She killed him for YOU, Kaz. She who does not kill!
- "Look at me. Look at me!"
- I’m never going to recover from this.
- I'm really gonna need a second here.
- ...and it was in a CHURCH too of all places. A holy place!!! Especially for Inej! Her Saints were watching!
- Yeesh. Ok. Continuing.
- That was the sound of Darkling’s spurs jangling. YEEHAH. You can take spurs off, you know. They’re not built into your shoes. You fucking cowboy. (No I’m not one of you Free Reign people so don’t even think about it)
- ...how tall is Ben Barnes? He uses the intimidating height factor a lot. Wikipedia tells me 6’1. Ok ok I see you.
- LOL Jesper I feel the same way. All that plotting and Alina just waltzes out and hides in the trunk herself. Un fucking real. I love it. That was hilarious.
ep1 | ep2 | ep3 | ep4 | ep5 | ep6 | ep7 | ep8
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qveenofwinter · 3 years
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I finished watching Shadow and Bone!! And I have sooo many thoughts, but overall I liked it very much 🖤
SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
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What I loved:
All the actors were great and they portrayed the characters I love so much beautifully
Nina and Matthias ❤️
Jesper was hilarious
The keftas looked STUNNING
The chemistry between the actors was amazing
KAZ AND HIS CANE, INEJ AND HER KNIVES, JESPER AND HIS GUNS. NINA AND HER WAFFLES!!
BEN BARNES 🖤🖤🖤 I’ve never been a huge fan of the Darkling or darklina (don’t kill me please), but he made me fall in love with the character. AND HE LOOKS AMAZING IN BLACK
ZOYA 💙 I was a bit scared, because she is one of my absolute favourite characters and I love her storyline in KoS and RoW so much, but I have to say that Sujaya did a great job, when I looked at her I really could see Zoya (there are a couple of things I didn’t like about the script, though)
G E N Y A
Danielle Galligan is amazing and she deserves more love. She made me fall in love with Nina again
The OST, it just gives me Grishaverse vives
Have I said all the actors were great??
(I probably forgot to add some things)
What I didn’t like so much:
I have a couple of problems with Zoya’s storyline. First, as a lot of people have pointed out, calling Alina half-breed (when she is half Suli). The other thing that I didn’t like was her having a “romantic relationship” with the Darkling in the past, when in the books she was just attracted by his power (I don’t know, it just felt awkward)
The Darkling’s true name being revealed in the first episodes (it felt like an important moment in the books, not so much in the show)
The Crows’ storyline felt strange, I don’t know. I would have preferred them to have stayed in Ketterdam
I didn’t like the concept of the amplifiers, sorry but they don’t look good in my opinion. I prefer how they work in the books
I wanted more Botkin scenes! “Steel is earned”
Sorry this was so long and all over the place, but I just needed to get it out. Everything I wrote is just my humble opinion, I didn’t intend to offend anyone!
Have you guys watched S&B? What are your thoughts?
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jmarjanah838 · 3 years
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Morrocan lamb meatball tagine. This authentic lamb tagine recipe will take you to slow-cooked perfection in six simple steps - just kick back and let it do its thing. Place the lamb in a tagine or large serving dish and sprinkle over the chopped herbs. Argan oil is a Moroccan oil from the argan tree.
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Big, tender balls of ground lamb stewed with. A wonderfully aromatic North African lamb casserole with a citrus tang - great for dinner parties, from BBC Good Food. Heat the oil in a large flameproof dish, or tagine with a lid, then add the remaining onions, ginger, chilli and saffron.
Hey everyone, I hope you're having an amazing day today. Today, we're going to prepare a special dish, morrocan lamb meatball tagine. One of my favorites. For mine, I will make it a little bit tasty. This is gonna smell and look delicious.
This authentic lamb tagine recipe will take you to slow-cooked perfection in six simple steps - just kick back and let it do its thing. Place the lamb in a tagine or large serving dish and sprinkle over the chopped herbs. Argan oil is a Moroccan oil from the argan tree.
Morrocan lamb meatball tagine is one of the most well liked of current trending foods in the world. It's appreciated by millions every day. It is easy, it's fast, it tastes yummy. They are fine and they look fantastic. Morrocan lamb meatball tagine is something which I have loved my whole life.
To get started with this recipe, we must prepare a few components. You can have morrocan lamb meatball tagine using 12 ingredients and 6 steps. Here is how you can achieve it.
The ingredients needed to make Morrocan lamb meatball tagine:
{Get 8 of lamb meatballs.
{Prepare 4 of eggs.
{Prepare 1 of large shallot.
{Prepare 1 of smoked garlic clove.
{Take 3 of carrots.
{Prepare 1 of red pepper.
{Get 1 of red chilli.
{Get Handful of spinach.
{Take 1 can of tinned tomatoes.
{Make ready 1 can of chickpeas.
{Get 2 tsp of ras el hanout.
{Take 2 tsp of harrisa paste.
Authentic kefta tagine recipe for Moroccan meatballs (Kefta Mkaouara) in homemade Moroccan meatball tagine (kefta mkaoura) in tomato sauce. Poached eggs are a traditional garnish. And, while lamb or beef is usually the meat of choice, you can certainly use ground chicken or turkey instead. I love my tagine and this was the first dish I ever cooked in one.
Steps to make Morrocan lamb meatball tagine:
Chop all the vegetables.
Add the shallots and garlic to a saucepan (one that has a lid) with some olive oil..
Once the shallots are soft add the rest of the veg. Add the meatballs to brown them.
Add the tomatoes, spices and chickpeas. Simmer and reduce.
Stir in the spinach. Now crack in each egg, then put the lid on for a couple minutes so the eggs bake.
Serve and enjoy 😊.
You can also cook this in a flameproof casserole or in an oven. These Moroccan meatballs, kefta tagine, whether made with lamb or beef, are redolent with paprika, cumin, coriander, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Serve the kefta directly from the tagine or pot, with warm slices of toasted bread for mopping up the sauce. In some Moroccan homes where fiery dishes are. Beautifully spiced Moroccan Lamb Meatballs served with a Minted Yoghurt Sauce.
So that's going to wrap this up for this special food morrocan lamb meatball tagine recipe. Thanks so much for your time. I am confident you can make this at home. There is gonna be more interesting food at home recipes coming up. Remember to bookmark this page in your browser, and share it to your family, colleague and friends. Thank you for reading. Go on get cooking!
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jomiddlemarch · 2 years
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light the candle in his hand
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There was snow overnight, so much snow, every flake the sky had ever held it seemed. It lay in drifts that covered nearly all of the windows and blocked the front door when Alina opened it, dashing any hopes she’d had of venturing forth. What she could see of the dawn sky was the glazed hue of a Shu tea-cup and it was so cold in the cottage Alina could see her breath in the air, as if she held only clouds inside her and not the sun. She woke curled up on her side, her face tucked against Aleksander’s chest, his arm around her and she was pleasantly warm despite the bitter weather, the empty hearth.
She was pleasantly warm because he was burning up. His face was pale but with the hectic flush a fever visible above his beard. The shadows beneath his eyes were darker, his lips slightly chapped. And she had nothing to give him— no heartening broth, no tonic, no salve for his poorly dressed wounds. Not one drop of water, not unless she could devise some ways of melting some of the otherwise useless snow.
She had only been Grisha for a day but she had been an orphan of Keramzin for the whole rest of her life and she meant to make that count. For his sake as much as her own. She slipped from his embrace and got up, debating with herself about whether to take back the red kefta she’d made into a bolster or to suffer the bite of the cold without it. It seemed a pity to disturb him and she’d suffered through winters before without clothes as well-made as her First Army uniform.
“Where is she?” he said, coughing. He was reaching for her beneath the cape, his movements slow, obviously painful. “Blessed Mokosh, they took her, those vicious—”
“It’s all right,” she said. He opened his eyes, such soft dark eyes and she could tell when he recognized her. He started to sit up, then gave a low, anguished cry and she quickly put her hand to his cheek. “Lie down, I’m here.”
“Hurts,” he murmured, swallowed. His beautifully shaped lips twisted in a grimace of poorly suppressed agony. “Thirsty—"
“I know. It’ll be a little while, but I’ll get you some water. Just a little while,” she said. She wished so much to be telling the truth.
“No,” he said with an unexpected degree of force. “Not safe—”
“I’m not going anywhere. We’re snowed in,” she said. It took some time for him to grasp what she’d said, what it meant; she saw how it was a burden he couldn’t bear, the way he turned his face into the fold of the red kefta, the slump of his broad shoulders. Had anyone ever seen the Darkling General so defeated? She wouldn’t have thought she’d ever see him this way and now she was the only person in the world who could. No one knew where they were, no one was coming to help them.
“Then there’s nothing to be done,” he said, sounding young, hopeless, like a little boy who’d learned not to expect anyone to help him.
“That’s just nonsense,” she said crisply, suddenly appreciating Ana Kuya’s perpetual asperity as she heard it in her own voice. “We have snow and some cups and you’ve shown me I have all that sunlight inside me, I ought to be able to figure out a way to get you a drink of water. I’ll muddle through, I can find my way,” she said. He was tiring, starting to slur his words a little and his accent was stronger, something she didn’t recognize.
“Get some snow in a cup and come back to me,” he said. “I’ll help you.”
She got up, found the cups and opened the door, using one cup to scoop out enough of the packed snow to fill the other. Aleksander lay still and she felt his gaze on her; when she glanced over her shoulder, he didn’t try to smile, just kept looking at her. She walked back to him and sat down as carefully as she could but he still flinched.
“Sorry,” she said. “What now?”
“Hold the cup in one hand,” he said. “Take mine—”
“Like this?” she said, reaching for his right hand, the one with the terrible clawed silver ring. She could hardly believe he’d cut her with it, but that was the only reason she knew she might save him now. She’d touched him very gently but he clasped her tightly, his larger hand enveloping hers, his skin even hotter than it had been when she’d woken. She felt that first, the heat of the fever, and then a peculiar sense of safety before the power rose in her, with the wonderful satisfaction of thirst being quenched, a pitcher being filled.
“Let your light collect in your palm, let the heat move from you into the cup,” he said, his voice raspy, breaking off into a cough but not releasing her.
“I can’t—”
“You can,” he said, very low. “You are.” And she was, the snow melting slowly and then all at once. She felt his hand on hers, trembling, with fever, with effort, with something else she couldn’t, daren’t name. She lifted the cup to his lips for him to drink, his eyes drowsy as he regarded her.
“Waited for you, such a long time, Alya.” Was it only his fever talking, that made him call her by the short, sweeter version of her name, the one to be used by a sweetheart? If it was not his illness, what could that mean? His eyes closed and she could tell he was falling back into an uneasy sleep, still with her palm pressed against his. She freed herself and waited for him to settle before she stood up.
Aleksander slept, but not comfortably, for nearly an hour, restless under the makeshift covers, muttering words and phrases she had a hard time understanding, some of them in a Ravkan dialect she didn’t know, all of them pained. Fearful. She went back to him, laid a hand on his forehead the way Ana Kuya had always checked an ill orphan, feeling herself purse her lips in the same manner. If anything, the fever was higher than before and he cried out, a little broken sound, one that a child might make when woke in the dark, the night-light left for them blown out. She would let him sleep a little longer, try to get him to drink some more water, missing the dzherrabai and honey that would have helped take down his temperature; if his fever didn’t break, she’d need to collect enough snow to pack around him like a poultice.
She touched his shoulder, trying to gauge how close he was to waking and he grimaced in pain, in terror. She touched his cheek, saying his name. “Aleksander, it’s all right…”
“Alya?” he said, looking at her as if she were a dream. “You—"
“Yes, I’m here,” she said. “I think you’d better drink some more water—”
“You’re all right?” he asked. He reached out his hand almost blindly, his movements clumsy. Yesterday, he’d slid off his galloping stallion with a preternatural grace and killed the Fjerdan poised to murder her, using a single, devastating strike. She caught his hand and felt how he trembled.
“I’m fine. Let me help you take a sip, don’t want to spill,” she said. She put her hand behind his neck and lifted his head, knowing it would have been easier if she could put her arm around his back but that his wounds wouldn’t allow it. She brought the cup she’d refilled to his lips and tipped it slightly, watching him taste the water, taking a swallow and then another and another until it was empty. She set the cup beyond the boundary of his cape and started to lower his head down, stopped by his hand at her wrist, holding her tightly.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“It was nothing,” she began.
“Thank you for coming back to me,” he said even more softly. “Solnyshka. Umnaya.”
“I’ll be right here,” she said, not trying to pull away. She felt the tension in him, the pain and the illness, and somehow, within the deeper part of him, a terrible cold; within thinking, without trying, the light inside her gathered in her hand at the nape of his neck and eased beneath his skin, some unspoken necessity met. His face, despite his dark beard, looked like a contented, sleepy boy’s and not the wounded man that he was. She wished she had a pillow for him, a pot of chicken soup bubbling on the hearth, a Healer ready to treat every wound, a palace full of Grisha to defend him and the riches of the King’s coffer at her disposal to buy whatever rare sweetmeat would tempt him. But their world was very small—a pair of tin cups, a hearth waiting for a fire to be laid, a sliver of sunlight on the floorboards and the snow a fortress all around them. He took a long breath and she saw the flutter behind his closed eyes, the softening of his chapped lips. Aleksander was dreaming.
It was time for Alina to start digging. To find a way out.
21 notes · View notes
ablackbirdsinging · 7 years
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I wrote a thing
@azrielsiphons  This is the fic I was telling you about! 
Like Calls to Like (Chapter 1)
Nina Zenik/Sturmhond  Will get to be pretty mature (explicit??), but not yet. Spoilers for everything Leigh Bardugo has ever published. Don’t read any of this if you haven’t finished Crooked Kingdom and the entirety of the Grisha Trilogy. 
If you’d rather read this over on AO3, here’s a handy link for you.
Nina stood at the bow of the ship with Genya, taking measured breaths of the briny sea air. Between the ship’s crew, the refugee Grishas, Kuwei, the members of the Triumvirate, and Matthias’ still body in the ship’s hold, Nina was beginning to feel claustrophobic.
As she often did when she stood above deck, Nina felt Sturmhond’s eyes on her, assessing her the way he assessed everything - the sails, the stars, the weather, his crew.
She was no stranger to the gaze of men, but there was something cool in Sturmhond’s eyes which made Nina think him impervious to the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts.
Frankly, it was a relief.
He picked his way across the deck, murmuring words to the sailors and the Grisha working up top.
“Morning,” Genya said, looking up with a smile as he approached.
“We should be pulling into port by the end of day tomorrow,” he said by way of greeting. Nina loosed a relieved breath and he eyed her curiously. “Not much of a sailor, Zenik?”
“I’ll just be glad to set my feet back down on Ravkan soil again,” Nina replied. A wide smile broke across Sturmhond’s face, softening his sometimes strange features.
“Me too,” he murmured as he walked away. “Me too.”
Nina turned back to Genya who was watching the privateer’s retreating form almost sadly.
“I’d thought he’d be… bigger.” Nina said. Genya huffed out half a laugh.
“He used to be, once,” she said with a shrug.
“Do you know him well, then?” Nina asked.
“Not well, exactly. Our history is…complicated.” Nina raised a sharp eyebrow.
“Not like that!” Genya laughed. “We never, I swear! But I’ve known him a long time. Before…and after.”
“The war?” Genya bit her lip, her eye thoughtful.
“Yes, that too.” Nina didn’t press the subject. She didn’t know what role Sturmhond had played, exactly, but she was familiar with the things the Grisha had endured during the Ravkan Civil War. The war had changed people, changed the country she loved. And it seemed even the coolest and most confident of privateers hadn’t been immune to its horrors.
—-
Nina hadn’t wanted to even go back to the Little Palace once they returned to Ravka. She was eager to find another ship to take her and Matthias’ body to Fjerda as soon as possible. But Zoya and Genya were insistent that she rest at the Little Palace for a while. Only there would they be able to find a healer to prepare Matthias’ body for another long sea voyage. Genya had done what she could before their trip to Ravka, but her knowledge on the subject was pretty limited. So Nina reluctantly agreed to return with them to the Little Palace before setting out again. She had to admit the idea of a couple weeks with solid ground under her feet again sounded nice.
“And besides, the King will surely want to be briefed on the happenings in Ketterdam, right?” Genya and Zoya shared a conspiratorial look.
“Right,” Genya said with a small laugh. She was practically hopping from excitement to see David after her time away. The thought of Genya and her Fabrikator love lightened Nina’s heart as they approached the palace walls.
—-
The day after Nina’s return to Ravka, she was called before King Nikolai. Genya had already secured a new kefta for Nina to wear, and she smoothed it nervously as she walked through the King’s throne room.
Darker than the typical Heartrender red by a few shades and embellished with swirling black embroidery along the back, the beautifully-crafted garment belied Nina’s new dark affinity.
The King watched her as she approached with a suppressed grin. Of course he didn’t need to be briefed on the happenings in Ketterdam, as he’d been there himself wearing Sturmhond’s face. But his Grisha Triumvirate was insistent that he continued the ruse, even in the midst of their own trusted Grisha.
“Miss Zenik,” Nikolai said as she came close and sketched a stiff bow. She had always seemed at ease around Sturmhond’s ship, if a bit reserved with the other travelers. It was strange to see her dressed up in the Grisha formal wear with her dark curls piled atop her head. “Squaller Nazyalensky has been filling me in on the events of the last several weeks. It sounds like we have you to thank for the recovery of several expatriate Ravkans, as well as the safety of Kuwei Yul-Bo.”
“Of course I didn’t act alone,” Nina demurred. “And of course it wouldn’t have been possible without Zoya, Genya, and Sturmhond.” Zoya nodded in her direction, but Genya was missing from the room. Nina suspected she and David were still enjoying their reunion at the Little Palace.
“Still, your actions were very admirable in the face of the challenges in Ketterdam. Will you be returning to your role in the Second Army, now that you’ve returned to Ravka?”
Nina rubbed a slippered foot awkwardly on the floor tiles in front of her.
“Actually, Your Majesty, I have a personal matter to attend to first. My -” she cleared her throat uncomfortably. “My close friend lost his life in the fighting in Ketterdam. I wish to return his body to Fjerda as soon as possible.”
The King’s golden eyebrows rose up into his hairline.
“I don’t suppose I need to tell you that Grisha such as yourself are not well-received in Fjerda. We’ve suspended the ships on our northern trade route in light of the tensions abroad. There are of course no passenger ships going out to Fjerda either.”
Nina shook out the stiff cuffs of her kefta.
“I was hoping I might convince Sturmhond to take me actually.” She said quietly. “He seems to have only a sliver of self-preservation. He might not find the trip entirely impossible.”
King Nikolai’s hazel eyes lit up a bit.
“No, I suppose he wouldn’t find it impossible at all. Shall I make a formal request on your behalf?”
Nina’s cool formality lifted like a veil at that.
“Oh, could you?” She looked like a girl again, staring up at him with so much unbridled hope that Nikolai suddenly found it hard to meet her eyes. He shrugged.
“He owes me about a million favors. I’ll send a letter right away.”
“Thank you so much, Your Majesty.”
“Of course,” Nikolai nodded. “If that’s all, then you may go. I’ll be in touch when I hear from Sturmhond.” Nikolai could almost feel Zoya rolling her eyes from beside his dais.
Dismissed, Nina turned to go and the rooms’ torches shone upon the back of her kefta. Black embroidery crept from the hem toward her neck in a dark, swirling riot amid the rich, wine red fabric. The sight sent a shiver up Nikolai’s spine. His fingers itched inside his ever-present gloves. It felt, suddenly, like the twist of scars and the dark shadows in his blood had reared up again. His arms, his chest, the backs of his shoulders suddenly felt too hot, too constricted by his finely tailored clothes. As the dark Heartrender swept from his throne room, Nikolai’s eyes watched her go with an intensity he hadn’t felt in years.
Two nights later, Nina had just returned to her room after dinner when there was a knock at her door. Some of her old classmates had been stopping by since her return to hear about her adventures being captured by the druskelle, then gallivanting around Ketterdam for a year.
But when she pulled open the door, Sturmhond was leaning against the door frame.
“Hi,” she said, somewhat awkwardly. His mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile.
“Hi,” he responded. “Uh, can I come in?”
Nina cast a backwards glance at her small room, and shifted to block it from Sturmhond’s line of sight.
“Can you give me a minute?”
“Yeah that’s fine,” but she was already shutting the door in his face.
For someone who arrived in the country with almost no worldly possessions less than a week ago, she had amassed a giant collection of shoes, dresses, tunics, capes, hair ties, and undergarments which were currently strewn across every available surface of her room. There was also more than one serving tray of days-old tea and pastry crumbs haphazardly stacked on the small desk.
Without a second thought, she swept as much of the clutter behind the dressing screen and anything that wouldn’t fit got kicked under the bed. She straightened the quilt across the bed and fluffed a pillow, then her hair. There was no help for her clothes - a drab and ill-fitting tunic and olive leggings, but he had seen her in worse aboard the ship. Her new kefta might have helped a bit, but it was somewhere buried in the heap of clothes relocated to the corner of her room.
With a deep breath, she yanked her door back open. Sturmhond was still lounging in the same position she’d left him in a moment before.
She plastered on her best “House of the White Rose” smile and gestured to the room behind her.
“Come in. Welcome to my humble abode.”
His calculating gaze swept over her room.
“It’s very… homey.”
“Well, we can’t all call a shockingly well-appointed and lavishly furnished pirate ship home.”
“It’s privateer, actually.”
“Alright, shockingly well-appointed and lavishly furnished privateer ship.”
“That has a nice ring to it actually. I’d like that engraved on a plaque,” he said as he perched on the edge of her desk beside a cup of yesterday’s tea with a dead flying floating in it. He poked the cup with one gloved finger and watched the fly slosh around.
“I didn’t know the serious pirate captain could make a joke.” She fixed him with a wicked smile, a challenge.
“Privateer, dear. And I’m not joking. You’ll know when I am because it will be hilarious.” He looked up from the disgusting tea cup and returned her wicked smile. Nina couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and out into the small space.
“What are you doing here?”
“I heard you had a proposition for me.” His ruddy eyebrows arched into his ginger hairline in an expression that was vaguely familiar. Nina had enough good grace to blush at the innuendo.
“You got the King’s letter?”
“Actually, I showed up before he’d had a chance to send it. But he filled me in and suggested that you wouldn’t be discouraged from the task. He assured me that you were already well aware that your plan to show up in Fjerda was pure madness.”
“I’ve been told you’re an expert at mad plans,” Nina said coyly, picking at the hem of her tunic.
“By whom?” She could hear the smile in his voice without looking at him.
“By the other expert of mad plans.”
“Kaz Brekker, I assume?”
“Of course,” and he looked up to meet her eyes. They were shining with that light again, that hope that he had seen in the throne room. He shook his head to clear his mind.
“He humbles me. We’ll take my smallest and fastest ship.”
“Wait, what?” Her eyes became glassy with unshed tears.
“Honestly, I’d rather take one of the flying craft but the weather that far north is too unpredictable. Maybe if we waited till spring, but still, if we went down in Fjerdan waters and couldn’t get airborne again, we’d be, well, fucked. So a traditional ship is our best bet. We’ll take a skeleton crew and I won’t force any of the Grisha to travel with us. I’ll ask for volunteers, of course, but I can’t guarantee that any of them will want to take the risk. In the last month the situation in Fjerda has become even more unstable.”
“I understand,” Nina said. A relieved tear spilled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this?”
“Well, when the King asks so nicely…”
“Right,” she sniffed, “because you owe him a million favors.”
“Did he say that? Ridiculous. He owes ME a million favors.” Nina shook her head, laughing.
“I guess I don’t really care why you’ve decided to help -” but he cut her off.
“You have a lot of heart, Zenik. I like that. And I think what you’re doing for Matthias is very honorable.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. “I have some business to handle for the King over the next week or so, but I’ll start making preparations for the journey. I’ll send correspondence when I have a better idea of our sail date.”
He hopped off the corner of the desk where he’d been perched and headed for the door. Nina followed, wringing her hands.
“Thank you for this, Sturmhond. Truly.” He shrugged.
“Call me Niko.”
“Niko?” There was a devilish light in his bright green eyes.
“You didn’t think my mother named me Sturmhond, did you?”
“I didn’t know people like you had mothers, actually.”
Sturmhond - no, Niko’s - laughter echoed down the hallway as he walked away, leaving Nina to her small, disheveled room again.
—-
“This is a terrible idea.”
“I haven’t asked for your opinion, Zoya.”
“You’ve barely been back a week and already you want to go off gallivanting for no reason.”
“I still haven’t asked for your opinion, Zoya. And besides, it’s not ‘no reason.’ Not to her. She made a promise.”
“A promise that has nothing to do with you.”
“I like when people keep their promises,” Nikolai insisted stubbornly.
“Believe me, we all do, Nikolai. It doesn’t mean you have to be the one to take her.”
“There’s no one else who can.”
“If it’s truly that dangerous then all the more reason that you shouldn’t go,” Zoya stomped her foot to punctuate her point.
“Do not treat me like a child, Nazyalensky.”
“Then stop acting like one. You’re no longer the spare second son who can waste his time playing pirate captain. Privateer, I know I know. Don’t waste your breath. I shouldn’t have to tell you that you’re the King now and -”
“Yes, and as the King -” But Genya cut him off.
“Can you two stop arguing for a moment so I can concentrate? If you keep scowling like this I’m going to end up marring one of your beautiful features. On accident, of course.” Genya was removing the Sturmhond tailoring he’d asked her to work up a few hours before. Her hands worked across his face, returning his features to that of the King.
Zoya bit her lip and restrained herself for a whole minute before she started talking again.
“Your people need to see you on the throne.”
“My people need many many things from me, Zoya, and I cannot give all of them all of what they want. But in this specific instance, I can give one of my people exactly what she wants. And I’m the only one who can.”
“Are you fucking her, Nikolai?” Genya’s hands on his face stilled.
“Really, Zoya?” Genya said as she shot a critical look at the Squaller.
“I apologize. That was uncouth. Are you making sweet, passionate love to her, Your Majesty?”
“If I was, that would be my business alone. Not a matter for the Triumvirate. But the answer is no.” Genya’s hands stilled on his face. “What? Spit it out Safin.”
“Well, do you want to?” He could have sworn Zoya was biting her lip to keep herself from bursting out laughing.
“Do you two plan ways to gang up on me, or does it just come that naturally to you?”
—-
Nina made her way to the Corporalki workshops the next morning. She was meeting with a Grisha named Annushka who had taken on the task of preparing Matthias’ body for preservation and eventual burial once they returned him to Fjerda.
Nina had once called the Corporalki labs home when she was a student at the Little Palace, and not much had changed. She picked her way to the desk Annushka called hers.
“Nina, it’s great to see you again.”
“Hello, Annushka. I got your message. Did everything go ok?”
“Yes, all went to plan. The body is prepared and one of David’s apprentices brought a box over just yesterday. It will keep the humidity stable aboard the ship to make sure everything stays intact on the journey over.”
Nina swallowed thickly and nodded her thanks. She never imagined she’d be barely an adult and preparing to bury her first love.
“Would you like to see him before we seal the coffin?”
“I - I don’t think so, if that’s alright.” She had said her goodbyes in Ketterdam.
“Of course,” Annushka reached out to grip her hand. “I’m sorry for your loss, Nina.”
“Thank you, Annu.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Nina bit the inside of her cheek. There was something else she was wondering.
“Genya said you would be the best to work with Matthias’ body because you’re particularly well-suited to working with the, um, dead.”
“Yes, I’ve always struck a bit of a balance between the Heartrenders and the Healers. Not interested in killing, but not best equipped for medicine and healing, either.”
“I see,” Nina tapped her foot nervously. She liked Annushka, but she wasn’t sure how much she could confide in the Grisha seated across from her. “As you know, I trained as a Heartrender here a few years ago before leaving to join the Second Army.” Annu nodded. “But recently I’ve found that my power has changed. I’m much more in tune with the dead, than the living. In fact,” she dropped her voice low, “I’ve found that I can actually move the dead.” Annushka, to her credit, kept her expression carefully guarded.
“Bring them back, you mean?”
“Not exactly,” although she remembered the moments that she’d tried and almost succeeded with Matthias. “More like, re-animate. I could cause a corpse to get up and walk around, like a marionette. Have you ever heard of other Heartrenders with such affinities?”
Annushka shook her head.
“Not exactly. My own power is much more limited. In the most basic terms, I can isolate and arrest the decomposition of the dead cells. That’s why I’m well suited to the work you needed done with Matthias. But I’ve heard of others who possess a stronger affinity for working with the dead. Those who can manipulate the appearance of a corpse, extract internal organs for study, or even transplant, from the dead. But nothing as large scale as what you’ve described. To re-animate a corpse.” She let out a low whistle. “The power that must take is astronomical.”
Nina shrugged off the praise.
“Well thank you, Annu, for everything. The work on Matthias’ body, as well as the extra information. I’d appreciate if you could keep this confidential. I’m still working through what my new abilities mean.”
“Of course, Nina. If I hear of anything else on the topic, I’ll let you know.” Nina nodded her thanks again and headed back to her own quarters, with thoughts of Grisha who worked with the dead milling about in her head.
—-
Nina was a little bit drunk. She swayed down the hall laughing with two other Grisha her age, on their way to their rooms. Maybe she was more than a little bit drunk, actually.
Suddenly Naomi beside her froze.
“Why didn’t you tell us you had a tall, red-headed man friend, Zenik?” Sturmhond leaned against the wall across from the door to her room, his gloved hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers.
“Oh him? He’s no one. Just renowned sea captain and scourge of the seas, Sturmhond. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”
“Saints, Nina. Send him to my room when you’re done with him, then.” The women giggled as Nina left them behind to approach Sturmhond.
“Did you just call me ‘scourge of the seas’?” He asked her in a low voice as she sauntered toward him. She nodded with a smile. “I take back what I said about calling me Niko. I only want you to call me that from now on.”
Nina laughed and opened the door to her room, gesturing for him to follow.
“Your wish is my command, Most Excellent Pirate Captain, Sir.”
“I like you like this, Zenik.” She turned to him with mischief in her eyes.
“Like what? Drunk? Reeking of kvas and pickled herring? Wearing a low cut dress that barely contains my tits?”
His gaze lowered very slowly to her cleavage and then very slowly back up to her face.
“I was going to say ‘laughing’ but now that you mention it…” She laughed louder at that and stepped away from Sturmhond to reveal the disaster of her room.
“Did you get in a fight with a Squaller? It looks like a tornado came through here. Did the Little Palace fire all of their housekeeping staff?”
“Austerity measures,” she said with a shrug.
“Well I’m glad they’re not skimping on kvas in the dining room, at least. You do smell like liquor and pickled herring, you know.”
“When in Ravka?” He smiled, looking around for a place to sit. With every available flat space covered in clothes and clutter, he sat awkwardly at the end of her unmade bed. She bounced next to him.
“What business, then?”
“The ship and crew are almost ready. We can leave in two days.”
“Wonderful, I’ll start, uh, packing my belongings.”
“You’d better start right away. It looks like it could take a while,” he said surveying the mess.
She leaned in close to him, until her messy curls were nearly brushing his shoulder.
“As soon as I get you out of my bed, I’ll begin.” He loosed a ragged breath and ran one gloved hand over his red hair.
“Are you doing this on purpose to unnerve me?” His gaze was steady on hers.
“Yes. Is it working?”
“Yes!” They laughed together, fierce blushes crossing both of their faces.
“I’ll see you in two days, then.”
“Two days,” he confirmed with a nod.
As she walked him to the door, Nina puzzled over something.
“I thought you were going to send me a letter about the plans,” she said as he started to walk out the door. He paused, shoulders stiffened. Then without turning around to look at her, he shrugged his shoulders.
“I just wanted to see you again.” And then he was gone.
That night, for the first time since Matthias’ death, Nina did not dream of snow and pines and wolves and blue eyes. Instead, on the waves of sleep, she sailed with the green eyes and clever smile of the boy she called the scourge of the seas.
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