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[His gaze falls to her clothing, briefly tracing the fine embroidery work. Her elaborate wardrobe had been part of his scheme to mold her into his queen. It's a ruse they can drop now. He thinks too of the bad memories that cling to the garment like smoke after a fire. The Darkling's invasion of Os Alta. His brother bleeding out on the dining room floor. So many bodies left like smashed fruit around the Little Palace.

He offers a thin smile.]

Yes, I'm afraid it's wildly out of fashion here. We can look for something suitable tomorrow.

[Then follows a heavy pause as he lingers in her doorway. His tone is falsely casual. It shouldn't be difficult for Alina to find the peeling edges of his mask.]

I plan to retire for the night soon. It's been a long day. I just need to wash up, then I can show you what to do.

[ Nikolai's attempt to keep up the charade almost hurts more. Of course the night was much more recent from her, but it was more his tragedy than hers. It feels wrong that he's trying to comfort her, and even more wrong that he can't keep up his normal facade.

There were times when she was annoyed by or even resented how he hid his real self, but it's a defense, she realizes. And not one she wants to rob him of for now. ]

Of course. Just call when you need me.

[ It won't take much time to settle in her room behind a closed door. But she's still wearing sapphire and gold pins in her hair will take a while to pull out before she's able to comb through it with her fingers. The kefta doesn't make a good outfit for sleeping, but she's eager to change out of it. The slip she wears underneath all of her elaborate clothes is more immodest than Ana Kuya would approve of, but it'll do. ]

[With nothing more than a brisk nod in acknowledgement, Nikolai turns from her doorway. In the bathroom, he splashes warm water on his face, brushes his teeth, and makes sure his bladder is empty for the night. He fills a glass with water, to be placed beside his bed.

Back in his own room, he undresses for bed. He has nothing to change into. So once his boots are off, he strips to the waist and pulls the belt from his trousers. Those he'll leave on — subjecting himself to the chains is humiliating enough without having to be practically naked. He's sure Alina would prefer it too.

All the while he pretends the system of straps and restraints he'd assembled that afternoon is not there.

When Nikolai is ready, he leans out into the hall.]

Alina, my dear, I need you.

[Just a light note of teasing. If he doesn't, he'll sink like a stone into melancholy.

Alina will find him sitting on the edge of the bed. With his shirt gone, it becomes evident that his scars don't end at his hands. Thin black cracks spread up his arms like veins and spiderweb across his chest, as if his skin is struggling to contain whatever darkness lurks inside him.]

[ This isn't supposed to be hard.

She's supposed to save Ravka. This is a concrete task she knows how to do. Maybe the first one of those she's had in quite awhile. It's straightforward and that should make it easy.

It certainly shouldn't give her nervous butterflies. Not when apparently Zoya does it every night for him back home.

She smooths out the front of her chemise that ends just above her knees and tucks her thick hair behind her ears, steadying herself and giving herself a nod in the mirror before she trods down the hallway in her bare feet.

She's not sure what she expected, but Nikolai half naked for some reason wasn't it. But the breath that she sucks in suddenly is driven far more by the scars that cover his skin. ]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean— [ An apology spills out. He is reminded of this monster daily, he doesn't need her shock or sympathy. She shakes her head, putting on the confidence Ravka needs her to wear. ] Where do we start?

[Her appearance catches him off guard in turn. The chemise draping her body is of a gossamer material made for summer, thin enough to supply several intriguing suggestions to his imagination. He's absolutely certain he's never seen so much of her legs before.

Nikolai catches himself and quickly corrects his agape expression. Fortunately, he thinks she was too distracted by the scars littering his body to notice this slip. Zoya was always fully dressed when she came to perform her duties — dressed no differently than if she were preparing to enter battle. They had a routine established. A give and take to keep the matter professional, even as the thought of taking Zoya's hand or stroking her hair crossed his mind more times than he'll ever admit aloud.

Now he and Alina will have to establish a new routine. Their own way of managing the unmanageable. He appreciates that she nips her softness in the bud to get down to business. He can tolerate anything but her pity.]

The first part I can do myself. I just need your help with the grand finale.

[He maintains the same carefully casual tone as before, but he no longer meets her eyes as he slides into bed. Then he pulls the blankets back to free his legs. At the foot of his bed are two sets of cuffs, one anchored to the metal bedposts and one anchored underneath the bed. One set is metal, requiring a key to unlock the mechanism; the other set, made of leather, tightens like a belt. Since he places far less confidence in these restraints than anything David could fabricate, he thought it best to double up.

Going slowly, so that Alina can see how it works, he secures the cuffs of metal and leather around his ankles. He makes sure they're tight before sitting back against the pillow. The set-up he has rigged at the headboard is similar to that at the other end of the bed. He locks up his left hand in a double set of cuffs, and that's as far as he can carry the illusion of his control.]

Water, please.

[With his remaining free hand he gestures to the glass waiting on the nightstand. A vial of pills sits next to it.]

Edited 2021-02-22 05:10 (UTC)

[ Alina folds her arms in front of her; it's her way of keeping herself steady. It stops her from twisting her hands or shifting her weight from one foot to another. She has to be steady for Nikolai. She may be chained to the Darkling as well, her collar and fetter sitting against her skin for him to see, but she at least has the illusion of freedom.

Her eyes follow his hands as he chains himself to the bed. Somehow being responsible for only one of his restraints feels worse. Final.

At his request, she walks over to the nightstand, handing him the glass. She picks up the vial of pills, turning it over in her hand. ]

And then these? What are they for?

[Even in the short while he watches Alina, following with his eyes as she approaches the nightstand, he can see her effort to control herself. To keep her emotions under lock and key, which has never come naturally to her. If she let her emotions slip, he's afraid he might lose control of his own façade. So the ache inside him now must be something like gratitude.]

For putting me to sleep. And putting the monster in a stupor should it decide to come out and play. I need you to place them on my tongue. One at a time, preferably — although I suppose choking to death might solve the problem too. It just isn't a very elegant way to go.

[He has let his humor grow macabre as of late. Zoya was used to it, but he forgets he ought to dull the edge for Alina.]

Let's try three. They won't be as strong as what Genya concocted for me, but seeing as I haven't had a chance to test them...I'll try not to be too reckless.

[ She turns the bottle in her hands, listening to the pills rattle within it as she nods. His joke offers a bit of levity, and she shakes her head. Part of her disapproves, but another part can't help but admire the way he juggles adversity with such easy when it seems like she has always been so prone to just shutting down. ]

I'd be a shame for you to choke or overdose. I'd have to find a new housemate.

[ See. Alina can make morbid jokes too. ]

[The grin that creeps onto his lips now, although a touch sardonic, is genuine. He needs her to keep playing along. He needs her to not run away, to face this hand in hand with him. No matter the act he puts on, this is not easy for him. It feels like drowning in an invisible lake: nobody else can see his mouth filling up with water, his eyes bulging wide with terror.]

Alina, I'm wounded by your implication that I would be so easy to replace.

[Out of habit, he purposes to gesture with his hand — a little dramatic flair — but of course it's tethered to the bedpost. So instead, his statement is punctuated with the dull clang of chains against the iron frame. It lacks the same effect.]

[ She opens her mouth for a quick retort, something about how she might enjoy the quiet or maybe this was an elaborate scheme to make him shut up for a few hours each night, but the angry scrape of metal against metal is a damper on her thin attempt at keeping up the mood. The back and forth only delays the inevitable.

And she thinks she would be terribly lonely if he died on her now. ]

Are you ready?

[He nods resolutely.]

As ready as I'll ever be.

[As Nikolai opens his mouth, he can't help but feel that Genya's solution was much more elegant. Or at least much less humiliating. He could pinch a drop of the medicine onto his tongue himself, but pills require water and another hand he doesn't have.

Even so, he holds his eyes to Alina as she draws closer. For just an instant, he can imagine a very different life — a road not taken, branching off from some point far behind him. He can imagine her approaching his bed simply to join him in it. He would take her in his arms and she would meld against him. They'd kiss soft and slow.

His gaze flickers to the ceiling. Nikolai takes a deep breath, expelling the errant fantasy from his mind. He blames it on the unfairly thin fabric of her shift.]

[ He won't even look at her. She tries not to take it too personally. She thinks of David closing the collar around her neck. He bears no fault to how she's been chained, and Alina harbors no ill will towards him, but that doesn't make the act less painful.

She will be quick and spare them both from prolonged awkwardness. One by one, she places the pills in his mouth. Brushing her fingertips against his lips is unavoidable, and she tries to ignore just how intimate and private it feels.

While leaning over, her shift had unfortunately, well, shifted leaving a bit of a gape at her breast, her ruby shining on her sternum. As she straightens, she feels it settle lower on her chest than she expected, and she quickly (and awkwardly) adjusts by pulling on the straps before she crosses her arms in front of her higher than really seems natural. ]

Do you... Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?

[One by one she places the pills on his tongue, and one by one he swallows them with a gulp of water. The accidental brush of her touch against his lips sparks another flash of fantasy. It would be all too easy to draw her fingertips into his mouth, press kisses into her skin. The glimpse he gets of the tops of her breasts certainly doesn't help him purge these thoughts.

Saints. Before he can start tumbling Alina in his mind, Nikolai forces himself to focus on the last pill sliding down his throat. He thinks of falling into a sleep so deep it's like a chasm swallowing him up. He thinks of the monster lurking in his heart curling up into something small and helpless.

He passes the half-empty glass back to Alina. Then he slides down the pillow and positions his hand at his bedpost. Signaling for her to finish the job. Surrendering his last shred of freedom.

Her question surprises him. He doesn't think it's pity — but it's something that softens this excruciating ritual. Something that alleviates the darkness, like the light Zoya would leave burning for him even as he sank into sleep. Nikolai looks at her with an expression naked of his usual defenses. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet.]

If you're sure you have nothing better to do...yes, I would like that. It shouldn't take long.

[He isn't sure if it's the effect of the pills or the effect of the long day accumulating in exhaustion, but already he feels his head going blurry, his eyes growing heavy.]

Edited 2021-02-25 14:35 (UTC)

[ She nods, agreeing quietly. It sounds more like an apology than anything. ]

Of course.

[ She's gentle as she guides his arm, but ultimately the tightness of the restraints is necessary to keep the both of them safe.

There's little for him here that her company feels like the only thing she can offer that might make up for her closing the leather and metal bands around his remaining hand. And how could she deny him after he wore such stark honesty in his request? Only Nikolai could be expected to still wear a mask over his vulnerability when literally in chains, but she blames the lapse in the swift effect of the sleeping pills.

She grabs the edge of the blanket and fixes it to lay gently over him. With little other furniture, her only option is to perch at the end of the bed and wait for sleep to take him.

Quietly, as not to disturb him, she offers: ]

Goodnight, Nikolai. I'm grateful you're here.

[Like always, Nikolai must steel himself against the urge to resist. Against the panic that rises in him as the cuff clicks shut around his wrist. Her touch against his skin, however brief, acts as a counterbalance to the cold metal. It provides something else for him to focus on.

Then the job is done. But she stays — not because he is her king, he hopes, but because he is her friend. Something about the way she rearranges the blanket, the way her weight quietly sinks the mattress to mark her presence, is overwhelmingly tender. It's the sort of thing that has been absent from his life for too long. The sort of thing he has craved.]

It was good to see you again, Alina. I missed you.

[That quiet voice again, fuzzier around the edges as he fades. His eyelids are already drooping.

As promised, she won't have to wait long before he slides into sleep. Within ten minutes, he's snoring softly. His face is placid. For now, at least, he is not a king, or a demon, or any of the countless roles he inhabits.]

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