solmate | noctium inbox

I would expect no less from you.

Excellent! I knew we'd see eye to eye.

[And with that, Nikolai prepares for his guest. The address he'd given will lead Alina to a row of identical townhouses, clean and respectable but tragically practical. When he opens the door, he has a polite smile ready.]

It's customary for the host to seat his guest and offer refreshments before getting down to brass tacks. Just a brief lesson in diplomacy, Alina.

[He ushers her inside, where a narrow entryway opens into a living room. It's furnished with simple basics: a sofa, a coffee table, a shelf bare of books and knickknacks. The room looks as if nobody has ever spent time in it.

On the table sit two plain mugs containing steaming hot water and steeping tea bags, the strings and little paper tags wrapped around the handles. Nikolai sits down on the sofa, gesturing for Alina to join him on the adjacent cushion.]

I would have offered brandy, but there's no room in the budget just yet.

[ Alina fixes him a look that seems to imply this is a lesson that she in fact does know, but given the extraordinary circumstances, some deviation of social niceties is to be expected.

She just hasn't quite learned how different the two worlds are.

She's tempted to stand, and honestly stalls as much as she can while takes one of the mugs, hooking her finger around the string to dunk the teabag idly. Her eyes scan around the room, if there were something — literally anything, she could stroll past the couch and take sudden interest in whatever books littered the shelf, but no such luck here. ]

Tea is fine. And brandy might make it a bit difficult to find my way home in the dark.

[ Out of options, she perches on the couch next to him, her hand twisting the string around the tip of her finger. ]

Is that enough small talk for now? And if not I promise not to tell anyone about your diplomatic faux pas.

[The tea is still too hot to drink, but he concedes to her impatience with a nod and a sigh. He reads her discomfort in her posture, in her fidgeting. The last few days — from their arrival, to the purgatory of the sky station, to the busy confusion of the city — has thrown a lot of uncertainties at them. A lot of problems to solve. And unfortunately, he has one more to add to the pile.

His countenance has tightened, transforming him from gracious host to beleaguered king.]

When we met this afternoon, I left out some key details of Ravka's current situation. Yes, you defeated the Darkling and thus saved Ravka from what I can only assume would have been a dark era blotting our history indeed.

However, nothing is ever so simple. Especially in the realm of politics.

[Nikolai pauses to test his tea. A small sip, and his lip curls in distaste.]

Oh, that's awful.

But this is everything you've been preparing for—

[ Alina's confusion is genuine, and tone is almost chastising him. ]

While I don't know the circumstances of the Darkling's defeat, [ not her defeat of him. It feels too abstract, like it's not really her. And it isn't, honestly. It's not an action she gets to claim. ] I must have thought Ravka would have a capable king waiting on the other side. And yes, it does pain me to compliment you.

[ She isn't optimistic about her own abilities, but Nikolai attacked his duty with a surety she could do little more than envy. And certainly after the way his father just stumbled through his reign, caring for little more than himself, he has to be doing a spectacular job. She supposes nothing could ever be so easy for them, but maybe this is just a case of his standards. ]

I know you like to plan and scheme, but I find it hard to believe that it's nothing you can't adapt to. Just as I'm sure this tea is fine, your royal taste buds are just spoiled.

[ As proof, she takes a long gulp. And oh. Oh saints, that is not good... ]

[His lips quirk upward at how quickly her expression turns once she drink the tea. The basket of staples provided by the embassy had included a box of the little pre-portioned bags of tea, which he had assumed to be the cheap kind — and, as he so often is, he was right.]

Oh, I'm undoubtedly the most capable king Ravka has seen in several generations. Not a boast, just a matter of fact. But some problems are bigger than any one man. However brilliant that man may be.

[Gravity sinks into his countenance and voice.]

The civil war left behind deep scars. Disgruntled factions within Ravka's borders doubt the legitimacy of my claim to the throne, and it hardly helps that my father's carelessness with women has spawned Saints know how many upstarts claiming to possess Lantsov blood. Our enemies beyond Ravka's borders are all too eager to pick a favorite to back.

Hence my search for a bride, so that I can produce an heir and lay a clear path for succession.

[Words devoid of romance. Pragmatism is all it is. Nikolai breaks his upright posture to lean forward in his seat, balancing his elbows on his knees. Despite the straight line of his shoulders, weariness drapes him.]

Now, to the point of all this. [He holds up a gloved hand before she can protest.] No, I'm not proposing to you again.

[Again? She wouldn't remember the first time. Or the second time, his desperate bid for healing after the haunting darkness he had endured.]

It isn't just Ravka that carries scars. [Replacing his mug on the table, he sets to tugging off his gloves. Revealing the curious dark scars cracking his hands.] The Darkling made sure he would not be forgotten so soon.

[ Alina listens intently, modest as always, she thinks although she has no real arguments. While she empathizes, she is finding it difficult to understand how she can help. While not anything as formal as the ring she has yet to receive, his proposition was quite clear once his identity was revealed.

She isn't the political mind of this duo. She's not the schemer, and she's about to protest that she's not quite sure what she is supposed to do and the role of Sankta Alina isn't really leveraged here quite as effectively as it was in the fight against the Darkling.

But her argument evaporates as he tugs off his gloves.

She scoots closer to him on the couch, quickly depositing her mug back on the coffee table and spilling a bit of tea in the process. It's not important.

Her hands hover around his, hesitating for just a moment as she looks back up to his eyes. He's as steady as always, country before self. Duty before love. Is it that easy for him or has he simply mastered the art of crushing his temptations to anything else like a snake under his boot? ]

The Darkling. He did this to you.

[ It's not a question. Tenderly, she cups one his hand in both of hers, turning it gingerly and tracing her fingers softly over the lines of one of his scars. ]

Oh Nikolai... What did he do to you?

[Nikolai has been planning three steps ahead ever since he was fourteen. In his mind, everything turns into a scheme with a hundred moving pieces. It's hard to turn off sometimes. When he sat Alina down, what emotions had he aimed to instill in her? A sense of the gravity of his affliction. Sympathy, certainly. The shock of the scars could accomplish that better than even the most perfectly crafted words.

But the tender ache of her hands closing around his? It comes as a surprise that softens him from king to just a boy sitting with a girl whom he once thought he might have loved.]

This was my punishment for getting in his way. He infected me with merzost — turned me into a monster, like one of his nichyevo'ya. It was as if the darkness devoured me and borrowed my body. I couldn't speak. I couldn't piece rational thoughts together. I was just...hungry and wild.

[His eyes remain on the knot of their hands.]

When you defeated the Darkling, I returned to normal. But a few months ago, whatever fragment of darkness he left inside me reawakened. I began to transform into the monster at night sometimes. It's the same as it was back then — I become a mindless beast, a danger to my own people.

Edited 2021-02-09 02:28 (UTC)

You're not a monster. He is.

[ For doing this to him. For creating the abomination of the nichyevo'ya and leaving a monstrous piece of himself inside of Nikolai to haunt them from beyond the grave or worlds away.

Even though that worlds away bit is... debatable. But there is no reason to worry Nikolai when it's possible she can neutralize this threat on her own. Or isn't a threat, if his current situation is anything like hers.

Her brow knots together in a tight concentration. With the collar around her neck and the scales around wrist, summoning should come easily. She should be able to fill his home with light. She's not sure what to do, but flood the shadows with light, annihilate the darkness. Whatever she possibly can, even if this is likely what her future self undoubtedly tried and didn't work. Her breath catches in surprise as threads of light twine around their hands, but she can't hold them as they dissipate into the air.

She is left holding his hand, as dark and scared as it once was. Her hands linger on his until she is overcome with the awkward reality of the fact that she's held on for longer than is necessary. She draws her hands back, fingers digging into her knees to keep herself grounded.

Resigned, unable to meet his eyes, and almost ashamed she explains, ] I'm sorry. I thought it might work, but that's the most I've been able to summon since I arrived. It's... it's not like it is at home. It costs something.

[The threads of light whisper warm against his skin, but a sharp pain jolts his veins as the darkness inside him protests. His arm tenses, unwinding only when the light recedes. He folds away his grimace.

Then her hands are gone, and he feels strangely bereft. Manna, he recalls, turning the unfamiliar word over in his head. Synchrony. That might explain Alina's diminished summoning prowess. Nikolai covers her knuckles with his hand, squeezing gently.

They can find strength in each other.]

Thank you, Alina.

[Not perfunctory politeness — the words are weighted with sincerity. For granting the words he craves to hear. For refusing to let him suffer alone.]

I have found a way to control the monster. At least, I managed it once. If I call the monster forth of my own will, I can retain control of my mind. Whether or not the monster will keep awakening on its own, though...and whether or not I can get a hold of myself when that happens...I don't know.

[He hadn't needed to sleep in the timeless monotony of the Fold. Now, time is ticking again. In an attempt to offer some levity, he adds:]

Would you believe me if I said that it was Sankta Lizabeta who taught me?

[ Her grimacing hangs on for a moment, feeling an emptiness or an almost mournful disappointment that she couldn't call the light. It's followed by a dissonance, sitting in her stomach like a rock. Her power binds her more than frees her. Shouldn't she be glad they're gone?

Her conflict buries itself to be dealt with later as his hands slide onto hers like a soothing balm. They're a comfort. Yes, Mal's touch was electric and the Darkling's magnetic, but Nikolai's... his hands were steady and grounding on hers. Maybe it's a front, but he's so adept at it, appearing in control when the circumstances of their new world, the elusiveness of her summoning, and his unfortunate affliction proved they were anything but.

Perhaps his sheer stubbornness and determination could tame that monster. Although she is not entirely convinced she still quirks an eyebrow inquisitively. Sankta Lizabeta. That is not a name she had expected to hear. Mentally, she shuffles through The Lives of Saints, but it's difficult to recall anything other than Sankta Ilya. ]

I would say you've gone mad, but I know better to argue with you about the impossible.

[ The return to banter is both comfortable and comforting, like a rhythm that could soothe her. ]

Do you... when is the monster called forth? Can you feel it?

I imagine I would be much happier if I were mad.

[No wry twist of his lips accompanies this remark. It has always been difficult to distinguish between jest and sincerity when it comes to the Ravkan king — which makes this plainness of speech quite stark.

Truthfully, Nikolai doesn't feel in control at all. Despite his onetime success in mastering the monster from within, he knows the reins are still out of his grasp. And in this world, severed from his allies and resources, he is more powerless than ever.

In a way, then, the surety of his hand over hers is a facade. But at the same time it's a nakedly honest expression of how he wishes he could do more to reassure her.]

I could feel it rising up in me. As if it's trapped inside my chest and it can climb its way out. And I could feel its wings bursting out of my back, its claws growing from my hands. It certainly isn't the most pleasant sensation.

[He elides just how painful the transformation is. It feels like his body is being shredded apart. When he returns to normal, he can hardly stand for how much he's shaking all over.]

Edited 2021-02-15 20:36 (UTC)

[ It's so strange to see Nikolai without such a strong mask. In a lot of ways, she sort of wishes he could have been this plainly transparent with her earlier rather than scheming while keeping her in the dark. The world is cruel, and Alina doesn't need to be shielded from it. Still, she hates the circumstances that put him in this situation.

She turns her palm up underneath his and offers a comforting squeeze. There are times when she wishes she wasn't burdened with the mantle of Sun Summoner, but ultimately she knows that power is her truth. It feels right to call it. To be a monster is not Nikolai's. The wrongness and the pain is proof of that. ]

I can stay here. If you'd like.

[When she turns her hand to reciprocate his grip, it feels like the forming of a pact. They can rely on each other. Selfishly, Nikolai is grateful to have her by his side again. Who else could he unload his secrets on? Who else could he burden with the weight of his problems?

He cannot face the monster alone.

Despite everything, her offer pulls a shadow of a grin back to his face.]

You've grown bold, Alina.

[That flash of teasing fades quickly, like the sun swallowed again by cloud. He sits up straighter, as if bolstered by the warm reassurance of her hand.]

I was planning to ask you to live here with me. I wish it were for pleasanter reasons, but the truth is I need your help...with controlling the monster. I cannot be so foolish as to place my full confidence in one instance of success. As I've said, I may still be susceptible to transforming in my sleep.

Back home, I had David create a system of restraints to chain me to my bed, and Genya developed a drug to knock me out cold through the night. And hopefully hold the monster under. Unfortunately, I am left without their particular genius and skills here. I'll have to use what I could scrounge up this afternoon, until I can develop something better.

[His forehead creases in worry as he contemplates all that could go wrong. The stakes are staggeringly high, but he has no choice but to gamble. He has to at least try to contain the monster.]

[ There's a brief moment of a smile. Bold or just too used to tragedy? She has to rely on those she can trust. They don't have the luxury to be shy or uncertain with each other when this is a problem that requires both of them.

Alright, well maybe that's a little bit of a lie. There is still some room for her to be a little uncertain with his apparent ask. ]

You want me to tie you to your bed every night.

[ She's just... confirming. And although she tries to conceal it, there is no firm way of hiding the way her eyes widen at that ask. She may be inexperienced in some avenues, but being chained to a bed brings up thoughts of activities that didn't necessarily feel appropriate between friends, if the wild tales of soldiers or drunkards in the pub were anything to go off of.

She turns her head away, pulling her hand from his to swipe a loose piece of hair from her face before brushing her finger tips across the amplifier at her neck. She speaks with a mostly feigned confidence that is meant to affirm that she understands and is willing to help. ]

The Darkling's bondage has followed me here as well.

[ ...even if her word choice is a little questionable, which she also immediately realizes, wincing at this misstep. Clearing her throat, she clarifies. ]

Yes, I'll stay here and... do what I can to help.

[Nikolai enjoys watching her fluster. This is just one of many things he had missed about Alina. Even now, it returns him to the days he'd spent courting her affections, planning for a future so different from the one he has inherited.

When she extracts her hand, it leaves his resting on her knee. While he doesn't mind this at all, he's aware that his peculiar request already pushes at the boundaries of her comfort. Tactfully, he reaches for his mug again, just to have an excuse to move his hand. It isn't until he sips the tea that he remembers that it isn't very good.]

I wouldn't ask just anyone to chain me up. I can rely on you alone, Alina. You...can understand this in a way that nobody else would.

[With the exception, he allows, of Zoya. Zoya, who had been his guide pulling him through the darkness of the recent months, his shoulder to lean on, his ear to pour his thoughts into.

She and Alina are not interchangeable. Each is a force to reckon with in her own right. But Alina would have to fulfill that role — another mantle he must force upon her.]

Edited 2021-02-17 04:22 (UTC)

[ The brush of his fingers against her knee, even accidentally, feels very intimate in a way that she isn't used to. She shuffles in her seat, crossing her legs at the ankles and creating a touch more distance between them. Still, even with the oddity mostly drawn from the novelty, there was a sort of comfort in his touch. But, he didn't let it rest there for long.

Combined with the explicitness of how he is no longer seeking her as a wife she wonders if that's a line he's trying to draw about their relationship at least in the places where they can.

She should be thankful for that. She definitely should. ]

I do understand. Know that you can count on me.

[ She is serious for another moment before a smile plays on her lips, just briefly before she gives her best attempt at mock stoicism. ]

And I also suppose I can leave you chained up when I think you're being too much of a scoundrel.

Edited (what is html) 2021-02-17 04:45 (UTC)

[It's not like him to be so solemn. Yet this thought seems to cross his mind with ever increasing frequency, so perhaps now it is like him to be so solemn.

Nikolai's gratitude for her swells, then, when that smile flickers across her face. The exaggerated tight-lipped sobriety that follows does a poor job of hiding her humorous intentions.]

Do be so kind as to outline your expectations for me. What must I do to be considered just the right amount of scoundrel?

[Treating the situation like a joke, like a hypothetical, is much more palatable than the steel-cold reality of it. The control he must relinquish when locked up mirrors the control he surrenders when the monster takes over his body. It reflects too his fear that his country's fate is slipping from his grasp, that soon he will have to accept defeat — now more than ever, stranded as he is on another planet.

So yes, Nikolai would much prefer to entertain Alina's teasing.]

While I would prefer no scoundrelry, I think that's unfortunately asking for too much. But I think I can use my best professional judgement and give you a warning. Maybe two.

[ She can be a benevolent judge! And it's mostly an empty threat anyway. Something that creates levity in an awful situation, like a childish chastising rather than a nightly ritual to imprison him, an ask she's not sure how she's actually going to stomach it each evening.

She supposes it isn't any more or less impossible than what else Ravka has asked of her. ]

And I guess that takes care of setting up more permanent housing.

[ Since she didn't get around to that trip to the embassy today. ]

See, this arrangement is already mutually beneficial. I've saved you a tedious trip to the embassy.

[As if anything he might provide for her could balance out the grim duty he has burdened her with. She'll have to be satisfied with his expressions of gratitude and friendship.]

I can give you the grand tour after you've finished your tea.

[He sips from his mug out of habit and wrinkles his brow.]

If you want to finish your tea, that is.

[ She laughs lightly, watching him try his best to stomach the tea. Really, she's not picky but she thinks all of the sugar and milk in the Little Palace wouldn't help it. ]

I'll pass if it's all the same to you.

[ Ana Kuya may have made it her mission to instill manners among the orphans, but Alina's brand of self-sacrificial does not include choking down bad tea in polite exchange for Nikolai's gracious hosting. And she's not quite a guest anymore, is she.

She stands, gesturing towards the rest of the house. ]

Lead the way.

[He sets down his own half-finished mug, resolving to find tea that doesn't taste like the water in a vase. Surely this city has better to offer.]

Out of magnanimity, I will overlook this disregard of manners.

[Then he rises from the sofa, leaving his gloves behind on the coffee table. There was no point in putting them back on now, not with bedtime looming. The hour is a bit early, but the day has been long and he wouldn't mind retiring so soon.]

As you can see, here's the sitting room. And dining room, all in one! Through there is the kitchen.

[The tour is made quicker and easier by the lack of actual walls separating the rooms. Shortly, Nikolai is leading her up the stairs. One by one, he gestures to the doors.]

My bedroom. The bath. And say hello to your new room. [He pushes open the door for her, ushering her through.] The good thing about being refugees is that settling in will be quick and painless. Nothing to unpack or rearrange.

[ She stifles a laugh. ]

I'm far more used to being able to carry everything on my back than fill a closet anyway.

[ Not that she really minded the beautiful clothes she acquired during her time at the Little Palace, but she had spent more time as an orphan and a soldier with just a few outfits to her name. ]

Although I probably will want something besides the kefta I wore to your birthday.

[ Actually, she might be down to burning it, considering what a terrible night it represents. ]

Edited 2021-02-21 02:13 (UTC)

[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.]

noctium inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

he's so dramatic, I'm sorry

it's fine that's why we love him

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)