This chapter's image has nothing to do with the plot, but it's the one true ship in this story... Korina x Strawberry Tarts.
I hope that you all are having a good holiday season! Updates might be sparse because of all the craziness this time of year
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Tamar's gold eyes pin me in place as her brother works on the cut that Mikhail sliced across her forearm. With each motion, her skin weaves back together under Toyla's steady hands, even as the cart jostles over ruts in the dirt.
"Come on, let me beat him up," Tamar prods, her fingers trailing to the handle of her ax. Her gaze snags on Mikhail who's pressed in the corner of the merchant's cart beside the sleeping merchant, "Just a bit."
I grin at the two of them, with a small shrug.
"Not helpful," Mikhail growls.
"Disagree," Tamar looks back to me, "I think that punching you would be extremely helpful."
"As much as I would love to see that..." I let my words trail off, smirking at the glare I get from both sides.
The atmosphere in the back of the carriage is strained to say the least. With Mikhail and I pressed onto the benches next to half the Volkvolnys crew, none of us are able to speak freely.
The cart bumps over another rut, jostling Nikolai against me. He's let his hand rest on the bench between us and with each bump it brushes against my leg. Even though the layers of fabric, fire sparks through my nerves, shattering my concentration.
It's a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed by Nessa, who shakes her head silently. I can't help the blush that tries to creep over my cheeks.
"I'm sorry, I still don't understand," She says from where she sits across from me, "What are you doing here?"
They all look at me, waiting.
With a small sigh, I begin to explain, "Even here in Novyi Zem it's barely safe for Grisha, I found that out quickly enough."
Nikolai's hand twitches, the only gesture of concern he will allow himself.
But it's enough.
We're crowded shoulder to shoulder on the small bench and my arm brushes against his as I lean back. I keep speaking, my eyes locked ahead as I rest my hand beside his, our fingers barely brushing as I try to ease his concern.
"Grisha only have the option of being chased around the world or pushed into the army. But if we want a real-life, it's safer for us when we're together."
Nikolais' hand twitches again. His fingers brush subtly against mine as they curl in on themselves. From the corner of my eye, I see him let out a slow breath. He's never heard me speak so openly about being a Grisha. It's a connection we spent so much of my life trying to dissuade, and clearly, my words now are taking a toll.
I continue, knowing that he'll only worry more if I falter, "Some of us are Second Army deserters, a few are from Fjerda, they've been helping me perfect my accent. We only have one from the Shu Han, it's harder for them to get out I think. The rest are Zemeni or Kerch who are trying to keep away from the salvers."
Nessa glances over at Mikhail, raising an eyebrow. "And where are you from?"
"None of your business." He sneers.
"Mikhail was working for one of the gangs in Ketterdam until a few months ago." I cut over him with a pointed look, "Sometimes he forgets that we don't operate the same way they do."
"Yes," He narrows his eyes, "I do forget that you're so... virtuous."
He says the word like an insult.
I tip my head, "Don't confuse my kindness with weakness."
"Who says they're not the same?"
Mikhail pushes at the sleeves of his shirt pointedly, exposing the tattoos that wrap around his forearms. On the left is a crow perching on the rim of a goblet, its head dipping down to reach the last drops in the cup. The other arm is wrapped by a bird in flight, its wicked talons extended. I've never asked him about the tattoos, or really about his time in Ketterdam at all.
That's the deal. I don't pry into his past and he doesn't pry into mine.
Tamar nods approvingly, "He might not be so bad when he's not trying to slice me up."
He ignores the comment, instead keeping his eyes locked on me, "Speaking of, how did the oh so righteous Rin wind up knowing pirates."
"Well, I had to cross the true sea somehow."
"Really," He smirks triumphantly, "I thought you flew all the way here."
"Setting aside the delightful commentary from our resident thug, are there any other points you want me to clear up?" My gaze cuts to Nikolai who's looking intently over me. I quirk an eyebrow, "Something to add Sturmhond?"
"Not at all," A small smile comes over Nikolai's face as he crosses his arms, "Though I do wonder, was it the influence of our thrilling sea voyage that inspired you to join up with a gang of renegade Grisha?"
"Oh, I didn't join one," I look up at him with a smirk, "I started one."
"You started a gang," Tamar raises her eyebrows, "You. Miss pacifist."
"It's a long story."
When I came to Novyi Zem I fell in as a tutor. It was the natural choice. My only marketable skills are those of a courtier.
When I was a child and trying to hide from the court, there's only so much I could do. I couldn't go out, couldn't train, couldn't meet the Grisha. All I could do was lock myself in the library and read, taking myself far far away from the court.
I learned Kerch, Kaylish, Fjierdan, Old Ravkan, and even some Shu. I could recite the histories of Ravka and all the other countries by heart. I read about the strategies and politics that Niko pointed out at court.
But after the first few months in Novyi Zem, I learned one fundamental truth that not even Nikolai could teach me.
When you're not living in fear, life is easy.
It was too easy.
I got bored without the challenges of Os Alta. Never did I think that once I got a normal life, I wouldn't want it, but that's what happened. I missed the energy of the city, I missed being able to make a difference, hell I even missed the palace. I still hate the lies and the pompous preening of court, but strategy and knowledge and influence are all absent out here in the countryside.
I wasn't made to lie, but I was made to do something. More than just teaching the spoiled children of a merchant how to speak Ravkan.
So I left. I found something in the brokenness of the world that I could fix.
I may have had to hide in fear of being a Grisha, but I can make sure no one else does.
That's all for now, but look out for a big announcement sometime this week!
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Forged and Forsaken [Nikolai Lantsov II]
Fanfic"We were not built on peace. We were built on madness and lies and chaos. We do this together, peace or not. Easy or not. I will never understand what I did for the Saints to think I deserved you, but I am done questioning." Four months after parti...