Forged and Forsaken [Nikolai Lantsov II]

~ Chapter Two ~

When his knife is a hair's breadth from the girl she spins, her hands whipping through the air. In an instant he's lifted from his feet, the world flipping on its axis as he's flung high by an unseen current. The teal coat that he adopted as part of Sturmhonds uniform flutters down around his head as he hangs there, suspended upside down in the air. He grapples for the knife but it's too late, the hilt slips from his hand, hitting the dead grass yards below.

"Did you really think that you could sneak up on a Grisha?" The girl shouts up at him, her accent so thick he can barely understand the words.

The Prince silently rolls his eyes, waiting to respond until the Fijerdan revolves into view. He can already feel the blood beginning to rush uncomfortably to his head. His hand creeps back to his belt as the girl yammers on about Grisha and retribution, he's not really listening.

Thankfully his pistols were more secure than his knife and he grips the handle. Any second now he'll be able to see her again and he'll have a clear shot. Sure it will bring the rest of the thieves back here but he'll just have to hope he can get back on his feet before any of the rest decide to attack him. He spins another inch and he can see the side of the cart.

Any second now.

The Fijerdan is still speaking and his words finally break through his concentration, "You can not think to smuggle a Grisha through the Dom Dukhov."

Wait, what? The Prince tries to twist further to see this girl. They have no Grisha, besides Tolya and Tamar, and they aren't known for giving out that information. There's no way the quaking merchant has powers of his own. For once his crew wasn't trying to smuggle anything.

"Did you really expect no retribution, you impertinent-"

Her words cut off sharply, jade eyes going wide. The Prince has turned into view now and in a flash, he has the pistol pointed at the girl.

He sees her face and his mind goes blank, a thousand memories flickering before his eyes at once. The clearing buzzes with tension as they both take in the other. For the second time today, the Prince loses his grip and his weapon drops to the ground.

"Niko?" Korina gapes up at him, her false accent melting away as she switches from Kerch to Ravkan.

"Hey, gorgeous," Nikolai grins down at her, "I think we've had a bit of a misunderstanding."

She's different now, a small scar crossing her eyebrow, her tailored hair the color of parchment. With the sunlight glinting off her skin bronzed from weeks in the sun and her eyes glittering green she truly does look like a spirit of the forest, but if anyone bothered to look they would see the real her.

A small voice in the back of his mind says that it's too perfect. This can't be real, this can't be Kora standing beneath the Zemeni sun. The universe would never be so kind to him.

She shakes her head, exasperation shooting through her features, "What are you doing here?"

Oh yes, it's definitely her. Even with the bottom of her face covered he would know that look, he's seen it thousands of times.

"As of right now, I'm reassessing how we train our Squallers." He raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the air around him, "This is an excellent strategy."

A small smile breaks over her face, one he's waited so long to see. She steps forward until they're practically eye to eye. In some dark corner of Nikolai's thoughts, a voice is shouting he should really be concerned that he's still hanging in midair.

But the Prince is having a hard time focusing that voice, hell on anything, because the sweet aroma that seems to emanate from her skin is tickling his nose. Somehow, impossibly, she still smells like strawberries and spun sugar, as if it's been baked into her very essence.

Now that she's before him he's overwhelmed with the need to touch her. To ensure that she's real and not one of the phantoms that have been haunting his ever waking moment.

He barely dares to breathe as he reaches a hand out to her, the ring glittering in the sunlight. As soon as his fingers brush her cheek a jolt goes through his nerves. The pulsing of his stolen ring flares, growing even hotter, raging through his nerves like a fire. Korina takes in a sharp breath and he knows she feels it too. The power is dizzying, the signal that they've finally found each other.

Something shifts, the current of air breaking with Korinas concentration. Gravity overtakes him and in seconds he's toppling back toward the ground. The world spins, wind whipping through his hair. His kneels jolt and lock, but somehow miraculously he's landed on his feet.

Korina is there, grabbing his shoulders before he can fall forward. Still, he stumbles, his hands automatically reaching for her. This time nothing burns, there is no surge of power or pulsing of a heartbeat. It's so much better, it's just her.

"Are you alright?" Korina's voice is low as her eyes flicker over his face, searching.

Nikolai lets his grip loosen on her arms, but even now that he's steadied himself the Prince doesn't pull away. He can see in her face what he feels humming through his veins. The energy between them is shifting as the frantic confusion of the past moments slips away, replaced with a calmer, more steady ache.

"I'm fantastic," He whispers, letting his hand come up to cradle her face as he gently tugs the scarf away.

The Merchant was right, her eyes do hold the forest, dappled shades of green like soft light through the trees and just as captivating. They could take you in, leave you wondering there for blissful eternity, willingly lost in their depths.

"Niko," She whispers, rather breathlessly the Prince notes with satisfaction, "this isn't the time..."

Her words trail off as his hand twines through her hair, bringing her closer until the space between them is almost nonexistent.

"I happen to disagree," His eyes trace the planes of her face, the curve of her lips, every ounce of her that he's missed so much, "Now is the perfect time."

He can feel the warmth radiating from her skin, washing over him with each beat of her heart. He thought he knew how much he had missed her, but now, with her in his arms, he's not sure how he's going to let go again. 

He doesn't care that this isn't the right time or place. She's here now, and far too perfect for him to ignore.

Korina leans into him ever so slightly, her lashes fluttering as her eyes dip down to his lips. His other hand comes to her chin, tipping her face up toward his until he can almost taste her breath against his lips.

Something flickers in the corner of his vision. The Prince's gaze snaps over her shoulder to the Heartrender who's standing beside the cart with hands raised.

The world tips over, blurring into a mass of colors as everything goes dark.

i believe...

When Nikolai gets extremely drunk, he can't remember if he's supposed to be Sturmhond or himself. It's gotten into trouble on more than one occasion.

This week's I believe comes from @Keranaqueen.