┍━━━━ ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ━━━━┑
𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇
┕━━━━ ➶-͙˚ ༘✶ ━━━━┙
"𝘌𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨
𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘴, 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴
𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐
𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘪𝘯."Over the next few days, Seraphina spent a lot of her time getting to know Alina. Within short time, the Healer had developed a soft spot for the summoner, they were rather similar in a few aspects. Alina's questions about the Darkling continued, Seraphina avoided them easily by simply changing the subject.
Since that morning with Sturmhond, Seraphina's mind felt clouded. She was hoping that once they reached land, she'd be able to take some time away to figure things out. If she were going to continue travelling with Sturmhond she needed to know what it was he was hiding. How could any type of relationship work without trust?
It was fundamental. Seraphina may have not been completely honest with him, he did not know about the Darkling but he knew other many important things. Perhaps this was hypocritical of her, she wasn't quite sure. Neither of them were particularly honest she figured.
Still, there was room for change. If things went the right way, Seraphina could learn to be more open about her feelings and past. It was scary to think about, she wasn't sure how it would work out and she disliked not knowing.
If Seraphina was anything, she was a bit of a control freak. She couldn't explain why, she'd always been this way. No matter what the task was, everything had to be done precisely and accurately. She despised mess and simply could not handle her day if it was not organised into a strict routine.
Being in control made Seraphina feel as if she knew what she was doing. The future however, was something she could not control and it uneased her.
The sun was beaming down on her, it had been out more recently and it warmed the deck of the ship. Sturmhond's crew were all working, trying to get them to Ravka quickly. Seraphina was slicing bread loafs, it was a small task but it kept her busy and Alina sat next to her, watching Mal and Sturmhond sparring with dulled swords.
Seraphina kept her green eyes on the bread, despite the yearning to look up. She knew that Sturmhond looked incredibly attractive when sparring. She'd even sparred with him, she'd only ever beaten him once. One time was enough though, she dangled it over his head like a sign.
Her hair was tied back in a pony tail, it always when she prepared food for the crew. Her blouse was unbuttoned slightly at the top due to the heat and she'd rolled her trousers up, revealing soft skin that was slightly paler than the rest of her.
"Seraphina, I have a question," Alina asked, leaning her shoulder against Seraphina's.
"Go ahead," Seraphina sliced through another half of the bread.
"Do you like Sturmhond?"
"Of course I like him, he's my captain you moron."
Alina laughed gently, an eyebrow raised expectantly. "You know what I mean."
"Cut this for me please," Seraphina asked, handing Alina an apple.
The summoner listened, taking the apple from the girl and beginning to chop it into small portions.
"I've noticed the way he looks at you," Alina mused teasingly.
"He looks at everyone Alina, he does have eyes."
Alina sighed at Seraphina's sarcasm, she was a bit like Sturmhond when it came to answering questions. Did anybody on this ship give a straight answer?
"He looks at you differently. It's like you put the stars in the sky or you hold the universe in your hands. It's so obvious."
Seraphina stayed quiet. This wasn't something she wanted to talk about. She felt foolish, and it wasn't like she was supposed to feel that way. In truth, Seraphina really did like him. The foolishness crept up on her when she let herself think like that, how could she like him if she felt as if she didn't know him?
It was an equation she couldn't solve.
"Where did he come from?" Alina questioned curiously.
"Ravka."
So Seraphina could give straight answers. That was useful to know.
"Is that his actual name? Sturmhond? What's his Ravkan name?"
"I don't know."
It irked the Healer that she didn't know. Why didn't she know? She'd asked him before, but he simply told her that he would only answer to 'handsome' or 'sweetie'. The more time passed, the more Seraphina began to question what she really did know about him.
➶-͙˚ ༘✶
"She likes you, you know?"
Seraphina stopped in her tracks. It was wrong to eavesdrop, she knew that. However, she was a curious girl. The door to Sturmhond's cabin was closed, she had recognised Tamar's voice within seconds. An oil lamp burned gently, lighting up the corridor. The Healer was supposed to be on her way to bed, they'd be arriving on land soon and she needed to pack the few belongings she had.
"Everyone likes me, I'm irresistible."
"This isn't fair. You know I wouldn't bring it up if I wasn't concerned."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Tamar."
The voices were low but clear enough for the Healer to hear. One was harsh and the other was extremely calm, as if they were discussing the weather.
"You're hardly oblivious to it. I'm her best friend, do you think she doesn't tell me anything?"
Sturmhond sighed. "One moment she's so loving towards me, the next she's shooing me away like I broke her favourite pearls. She's difficult to read."
"Well, you're hardly an open book. Does she know?"
"Of course she doesn't, how am I supposed to tell her that?"
"You can't keep this up. You're going to end up breaking her heart and that's hardly fair. She doesn't even know who you are. Seraphina values trust. Just tell her before it's too late."
Seraphina felt sick. She needed to move, and fast. Suddenly, everything felt false. Her assumptions were correct, Sturmhond was lying. It felt like a cruel joke, was it just Tamar that knew? Or was everybody in on it?
Sturmhond was good at many things, Seraphina should've known he was a brilliant liar above anything else.
AUTHOR'S NOTE |
i don't like this chapter, but it's only a short filler and it's the best i've got for now. i apologise if it feels like it's dragging on but just trust me because all will be revealed soon and it's super important that you see that this is affecting seraphina! thank you for reading <3
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𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇, Nikolai Lantsov
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