[ he whines breathlessly, eager to please, eager to perform. can feel the curve of kaz’s smile against his lips, sending hope fluttering in his heart that maybe this little bit is still untainted, that maybe he can still give kaz this fleeting moment of unadulterated bliss where he doesn’t have to feel the hurts inflicted upon him. the familiar rasp of his voice is threaded taut with need, a lovely sound that nikolai has played over and over in his head. faster. he gladly complies, happy to let kaz have what he wants, for him to discover and demand what he likes. it was always supposed to be this simple, to be nothing more than an exploration, an unearthing of need, prolonged exposure so that kaz could find his footing. and now he’s grinding his teeth shut just so his heart won’t leap out of his mouth.
what is he thinking? his eyes flutter open, a brief glance at kaz’s flushed face as if it might tell him something. nothing. he at least looks lost in the haze of pleasure, perhaps in a place the water can’t get to him. nikolai kisses him again, his hand snaking between them to obey kaz’s request, fingers firm around his cock. for a long moment he does nothing but drag his thumb along the tip, squeezing tight, drinking in the strangled moans pulled from kaz’s throat as he keeps the rhythm of his hips steady. if only he could have him like this every night, if their time wasn’t constantly running out. so many things he needs to say, so many things he can’t.
a cry rushes past his lips, head lowering to press to kaz’s cheek, hips buried deep within him as if he can somehow hide in him. his tongue burns with the unsaid, nearly pushed out of him with need, but he nips sharply at kaz’s earlobe instead, his hand working him over to push him over the edge, to distract. he can’t. what will kaz do with the weight of his feelings? hide them in his bruised heart, carry them across the sea back to ketterdam? there’s room. kaz’s heart is bigger than he knows, but to be prepared to hold such a thing is another matter entirely. and nikolai knows he’s not. he hasn’t taken the time to properly excavate a place yet, to set down a bedding so that there will be some place for this to go that doesn’t hurt. his heart is half shadowed, turned away from the light, a coping mechanism to protect himself from a lifetime of hurt. nikolai can’t just cut in with a sunlit blade because he wants to.
he feels the familiar tightening of kaz’s lithe body, the hitching of his breath. nikolai drags a messy kiss along his jaw, stealing a fleeting look, his tongue tracing his slick skin, a satisfied breath huffed along his throat when kaz spills wet between them. it turns quickly into a groan, kaz’s body clenching around him, drawing him into a haze of aching need that tips him over the edge. he sinks his face into kaz’s cheek, winding a hand into his hair and blindly pulling, tilting his jaw skyward as he buries a moan into his skin, a shudder seizing him as he tries to pull kaz closer still. a wispy pattern of black fragments from his eyes, down his cheekbone, trailing like a spiderweb down his skin, there and gone in a blink.
a rasp — ] Tell me what you’re thinking. Don’t shut me out. Don’t —
[ but he pushes up and the words die on his tongue, kaz’s face glassy-eyed and bloodied, his throat torn open as if by teeth. fangs. nikolai blinks and the image clears. kaz, alive and flushed, long strands of his hair gently clinging to his damp skin. he swallows, holding himself still above him, breath unsteady, heart rattling in his chest. can’t move. his eyes fall on the ring, on kaz’s glittering eyes, and he slowly reaches out to brush his hair back, his fingers trailing softly down the neat line of his jaw. wants to keep touching but the sight of his scars against kaz’s pale skin sends a nervous shiver down his spine. he moves back, scooting to the edge of the bed, his back to kaz as he steadies himself, his eyes on the pale curtains. ]
We should have gone. [ a murmur to himself, barely loud enough to be heard. in his heart he knows there’s little sense in running. you can’t outrun something that lives inside of you. ] We should have left this place.
[ he sweeps his hand up nikolai's spine and digs it back into his shoulder, fingers curling and unfurling. a sound escapes like he's had the wind knocked out of him, and he has, all the thoughts cleared to make way for the barely restrained buck of his hips. the tension dissipates from his body, rolling from his shoulders down to his calves, enveloped by nikolai’s attention. jaw set in determination, he cracks his eyes so he can see exactly what he asked for, even if it means seeing nikolai curiously earnest in all this. and lovely, like always. once nikolai’s off, sure fingers sliding fast and easy down his length, kaz hears himself cry out twice before the muscles of his stomach tense. his gasps soften after that, half-lost in kisses to nikolai's temple, his cheek, anywhere he can reach.
awed that nikolai gave him everything he wanted for once, knocked stupid by his feverish kiss, absorbed in the mess made of himself and his borrowed bed — he shouldn't be surprised by how fluent nikolai is in his wants, but there's nuance in the translation and interpretation that no one else has ever managed. it takes him too long to catch up to where nikolai sprints ahead. don’t shut me out. his brow creases as he processes the dawning horror on nikolai’s face, the shake in his singed fingers, and the tendrils cracking his cheeks. can’t find the words to explain himself, possibilities violently swinging between revealing and evasive. none prove worthy of answering the tender way nikolai pushes back his hair and looks at him like he can't believe he's there.
then, nikolai’s gone.
the sudden distance reminds him that nikolai is often lost in his own head, unsure of what parts and words are real even more so than kaz, and that he struggles to anchor himself in the present just the same. the difference is that while kaz loses himself in the same halls and rooms — and can thus find his way back — nikolai keeps building new paths. stairs that lead nowhere, doors that open into nothing. it makes him harder to find than anyone kaz has ever known, but perhaps he’s getting better at giving chase. hitched up on his elbows, he watches nikolai’s shoulders lift on uneven breaths. his words could mean various things, uttered so quietly he can’t be sure he heard them right.
still, one truth supersedes all others: there’s nowhere but here. your shadow follows you everywhere you go and grows when you do wrong. ]
[ mildly, though his voice aches from overuse. ] If I were shutting you out, [ kaz swings his legs over the other side of the bed, extending the right to test the stretch of the muscle. sore in a less pleasant way than the rest of him, but that’s to be expected. ] I’d have thrown you off the bed the second you sat down.
[ the night air cools his damp skin without nikolai’s heat guarding him against it. he supposes he isn’t letting nikolai close the way he did before, but how can he? kaz rises to his feet and limps to the washroom, the sound of running water echoing in his grand rooms. in moments, he returns wearing the clothes he’d stripped off before bed that night, trousers wrinkled and shirt unbuttoned, tie loose at his neck. leaning against the open doorframe of the connecting room, he looks more spectre than man.
for his part, nikolai looks, well, somewhere between debauched and haunted, which sparks opposing instincts in his brain. slowly, he pushes himself off the wall and draws toward where nikolai sits. ]
It’s a nice night for a walk. [ tipping his head to one side and then the other, as he considers the obstacles for that proposition. ] Provided you won’t fly away. [ a beat. ] And you don’t mind black. [ borrowing his clothes so they don’t have to venture back to nikolai's chambers or alert any watchers to their activities. it’s no journey to a secret laboratory, but it’s a sign of trust, of care, of whatever they might still have slipping under his armour. when they’re close enough to touch, a glimmer of hesitancy sneaks into his slanted gaze, blue eyes almost black in the dark. prepared for nikolai to shudder into a slouching, screeching thing, with knives up his sleeves and hands flexed. could block the first strike and only sacrifice his arm to the creature that’s not quite nikolai. or nikolai could bolt past him and slip through his fingers once again. he clears his throat. ] I’m not an easy person to… [ want, love, know in any capacity. however little or much nikolai feels for him, it’s not a simple thing to manage. he swallows, throat bobbing. the bruise on his neck twinges, muscle memory. ] But you — you’re closer than you think. [ a little intake of breath. he holds up one hand, ring balanced delicately on the tip of his finger, and then extends the other, palm open to take nikolai’s and return the gift, if he’ll allow it. ]
[ he forces out a laugh, his gaze lingering as kaz passes him. ] Haven't been kicked out of a bed in years, but I'm sure you'll get another chance. [ or perhaps not. maybe it'll be months before they share a bed again, just like the last time. he looks up when kaz reappears, rumpled but mostly dressed, shadows beneath his eyes and yet still obliging to nikolai's restlessness. the familiar prick of guilt. kaz should be sleeping soundly in bed, perhaps for the first night since arriving here in at the palace. the first night that they're once again on speaking terms.
something so simple as falling asleep with him feels just as impossible as when the monster used to rule his nights. now it's just the nightmares and new terrors unearthed from forgotten places in his memory. the chains are no longer necessary to keep the demon at bay, but he finds he can't sleep unbound anymore, the restraints somehow a wretched sort of comfort after years of use. mortifying, if kaz knew. sometimes he's surprised he can't look at him and simply peg his every hidden weakness. ]
I won't fly away. Unless you wanted to come with. There's only a small chance that a royal sniper would take me out. [ another flash of a smile, relaxing his posture but watching kaz carefully. he doesn't miss the hesitancy in his gaze, fleeting as it is. doesn't doubt that kaz is armed now that he's dressed. can't blame him for any of it, considering their history, considering his general instability, considering the scars kaz bears that nikolai placed on his skin. but still kaz approaches him, the glint of the sapphire on his fingertip, a confession on his tongue. nikolai holds his gaze, quiet. you're closer than you think. is he just saying that because he knows he's losing this battle against himself? no, kaz would never shame him with pity. nikolai is the only liar here.
he forces himself to uncurl his fingers, reaching out to place his hand into kaz's waiting palm. the ring is still warm when he slides it onto his finger, past the tendrils of black marking his skin. it grounds him in a way, a physical reminder to stay in this moment, his fingers wrapping around the bone of kaz's wrist as he tugs him close, arm sliding around his waist, craning his neck to press a kiss to his throat — healthy and whole, marked only with a harmless bruise. ]
You're not hard to be with. It's only hard when you're not here. [ he draws in a breath, surprised at his own words. masks it with another quick kiss, this time to his mouth, before standing, moving away to paw through kaz's neat drawer of colorless clothing. ] Black's not really my color, you know. Sort of washes me out. [ but he settles for trousers and a white shirt, rolling up the sleeves and then running his hands through his hopelessly tousled hair, eager to leave the confines of the palace, even if it's just to trail the grounds.
he shoves his boots on and doesn't bother giving kaz time to smooth his collar or make a proper knot of his tie, instead pushing his cane into one hand and lacing his fingers through the other, pulling him out the door and through the maze of darkened hallways. they exit through a little-used tea room into a glass hothouse full of exotic greenery — lush flowers spiraling from the high ceilings, pools of water surrounded by pebbled pathways, tiny trees boasting colorful blossoms and spiky fruit. the night sky twinkles through the domed glass above their heads, and nikolai turns and presents his open palm beneath kaz's nose, a butterfly with iridescent wings opening slowly in his hand. ]
Queen Tatiana — my mother — used to hold her salons here in the winter months. Doesn't get much use now. I used to catch frogs in here, and I once broke a window trying to skip rocks on the pond. [ he places the butterfly on kaz's shoulder and pulls him through the greenhouse until they reach the doors, tipping them open and letting the light spill out into the entrance of the manicured garden, the cool night air rushing to meet them. he squeezes kaz's hand, leading them outside and down the winding path surrounded by blooming flowers and marble statues, heading for the lake halfway to the little palace. he slows their pace when they step off the paved pathway and into the grass, matching kaz's stride and keeping their hands clasped. for a long moment he says nothing, and then — ] I don't know if I can do this without you. I don't know that I want to.
[ he swallows, stopping at the bank of the lake. won't push kaz to go in tonight, not after everything. instead he eases them both into the grass, his brow furrowed at he stares at the sleek water, the moon's reflection glimmering across the surface. he feels better beneath the open sky, less trapped. still lost. still leaning too hard on kaz as if he holds all the answers. he shakes his head, reaching out to gently trace the lines beneath kaz's eye with his thumb. ] I shouldn't have dragged you out here. You're exhausted. [ he presses closer to him. ] Rest. Don't listen to me. I hardly know what I'm saying.
[ it’s only hard when you’re not here. so sweet that he doesn’t startle when nikolai pulls him close like he did before everything began to crack, entirely devoted memorising the disarming expression on nikolai’s face. surprised, perhaps, by the ease with which nikolai lies — or lets truths slip free. kaz knows himself to be difficult, remote, and cynical, but maybe that helps counterbalance a sentimental and romantic creature like nikolai. it’s not so bad on the receiving end, with his kiss soft and assuring.
too distracted to dress himself efficiently, kaz half-watches as nikolai makes a mess of his things and covers sun-deprived skin with his clothes. a warm flutter in his gut at the sight. like he’s yours. but he’s not. people aren’t things; they don’t belong to anyone. it’s enough that nikolai came back (to himself, to kaz’s room). from here, their paths will inevitably diverge.
when nikolai rushes him out the door, hands clasped in what seems like an ongoing apology, he can only muster a fond sort of annoyance, lips tight from holding back a smile. although kaz has stayed in the palace twice now, he’s never before taken this route and can’t quite hide his curiosity, gaze tilted skyward in the hothouse. hard to fathom how a lowly canal rat ended up in the queen’s gardens, walking hand-in-hand with a king. more believable is nikolai’s story: a lonely little prince, causing trouble and honing his charm to win attention.
his mouth curves before he can stop it, appreciative of nikolai’s magic trick. although he looks away quickly, the bobble in his step as they leave surely gives something away. (that nikolai can eclipse his detachment with a tug of his hand). strange to be out on the open air with nikolai, then, even under the protection of darkness. with a roll of his shoulders, he settles beside nikolai, a fixed point beside him. always reaching out, gaze heavy, still holding his hand, brow furrowed again — his eyes close and open. ]
[ dryly, ] You must be pleased, if you’re trying to ruin the moment. [ invoking kaz’s tiredness or his own imagined selfishness. nikolai’s melancholy is proof that it was right to give back to him, however much guilt having anything for himself inspires. kaz bends his good knee, stretching an arm over it. nearly yawns, but then he’d have to concede a point to nikolai instead of teasing, ] That’s your tell. [ it wears different guises (melancholy, self-destruction, violence unto others), but it comes from the same place. he slides his other hand over the small of nikolai’s back to encourage him closer. a proximity he would never have thought possible. even now, it slows his processing, caught up in the way they fit together in a new configuration.
the lakeside breeze cards through his hair. ]
I’m fine. [ tired but not exhausted, only half as burnt out as he was on their journey to the find the heart and the weeks that followed. his only affliction now is a want so big it verges on need. should leave at that, content to have this night as another miraculous thing in his memory. instead, his mind pivots, thoughts clustering around another idea. i can’t do this without you. nikolai can, but he doesn’t have to. not the whole time. ]
I have a meeting with someone who’d like to kill you tomorrow. [ a beat. ] After your evening performance. [ his altogether too loud antics at mealtimes, which kaz has skipped since the second day in the palace. ] You’ve kept in shape, haven’t you? [ mild, despite the tell-tale glint in his eye. ] Still know which way the muzzle points?
[ it’s a gamble to even mention it, with nikolai’s changeable mood — and general dislike for kaz putting himself in dangerous situations — but you can’t win the day without taking strategic risks. ]
I am very pleased. I have the greatest thief I know all to myself for the night. [ a truth, but his mind is whirring ahead, eyes flickering briefly to kaz before settling back onto the lake. his tell. he doesn't have a tell. but then everyone does, and leave it to brekker to point his out unasked. he wants to say that ruining moments is not his tell but instead an affliction that's plagued him since his youth. he's always been too reckless. always had to be twice as careful with people. he spent an inordinate amount of time figuring out what made them work, tried to unlock their secrets in a way that felt fair and honest instead of through blackmail and the nefarious methods his parents subscribed to. he wanted his understanding to grow, wanted to be the sort of man that a lantsov king hadn't been in a very long time. and still he's not been able to shake the old habit of breaking all his toys.
but kaz is nudging him closer, a small marvel amidst the wreckage he's created of everything else. somehow, he hasn't lost this. not yet. he doesn't want to think of how kaz will leave him soon, how he squandered so much of their time together, but all his thoughts seem circular these days, leading him down the same tangled paths, pushing him against the same old wounds. i'm fine, words passed between them so often they've become all but meaningless. he doesn't remember the last time he felt fine. impossible that kaz has felt fine at any point in the duration of his stay in the grand palace. his thumb trails briefly down his cheek, and he's seconds from kissing him when kaz speaks again, this time fully drawing his attention. ]
Is it someone from my drawings? Those are who you were meant to find. [ stated mildly enough, but there's a nearly indiscernible edge to his tone that he knows most people would miss. people who aren't kaz brekker. he certainly wouldn't put it past him to concoct his own schemes to run circles around them all without any of them being the wiser. but he also doesn't trust that kaz wouldn't put a bullet in the brain of any of the people clamoring for his head — but forbidding kaz to do anything would be like telling a spider not to be innately disturbing.
he flicks open the top few buttons of his shirt — kaz's shirt — and points out a small, star-shaped scar directly above his heart, too perfectly clean to be anything but unnatural. ] I stabbed myself in the heart once. It's a very long, strange story that likely should have killed me, but the point is I'm starting to believe I can't actually die, so you should feel perfectly safe handing me a pair of guns tomorrow. And I do want two. The real question is — [ he nuzzles at his throat, his hand slipping beneath the hem of kaz's shirt to graze at his skin. ] Will I have to stop you from doing anything rash? I won't have you killing our subjects.
[ he presses a kiss beneath his ear to soften his words, the side unmarred by his bruises, but there's steel there, too. his eyes flutter open, lashes brushing his skin. ] What's your game, Brekker?
[ kaz feels nikolai tense before he hears the sharp edge in his voice. expected. fair. a marked shift from his attitude prior to their last fight. finally, kaz brekker isn’t something nikolai tamed in need of protection but instead the source of damage. good. let him think the worst of you. his gaze follows nikolai’s hands, a flicker of hunger swiftly snuffed out by the explanation of his scar. ]
I like you better alive. [ a confession that comes too quick to be anything but true. he brushes a kiss over nikolai’s temple because the impulse strikes him — and because it conveniently precludes eye contact. your tell. the tip of his gaze to inej in the harbour, the inevitable pull of it towards nikolai wherever he is in a room. he digs his nails into his palm, drawing his focus down his free arm and across the water.
the thought of entering the lake never occurs to him, but he imagines nikolai would enjoy it, burnished with sunlight. ]
Easy. [ kaz squeezes his side, fingers slipping under his shirt. copycat. they skim his waistband next, hooking inside to follow his hipbone further down, hopeful for a shiver that has nothing to do with the evening breeze. ] I’ve been a good soldier, moi tsar. [ always is, when it suits him. zoya can attest that he has dutifully matched the drawings to almost all of the families already. his mouth tugs sideways into a smirk. ] And I’m anything but rash. [ he thinks of relieving oomen of his sight and dropping him in the sea. perhaps he is a liar, when it comes to revealing his nature, but the only ravkan kaz injured on this trip is nikolai — nikolai, kissing him gently to offset the harshness of his accusation. appreciated but unnecessary. of course he has his own game. he’s kaz brekker. (but if he were the same kaz brekker that accepted the ice court job, he’d say nothing more until the game’s end.) ]
If I have something she wants, [ like nikolai, for instance. ] she’ll listen before anyone has to shoot. [ his hand abruptly reverses course, smoothing up the planes of nikolai’s stomach and over his chest to trace the starburst scar. another tell. can’t help but study the miracle that is nikolai’s presence, the unstoppable pulse under his hand. if any of their gods and saints are real, they must want him to live. how could they not? ] Persuading her to back down will lower the temperature of the conversation everywhere. [ and nearly eliminate the likelihood of further, competent assassination attempts from within ravka (at least as revenge for the demon’s work). and if they play this right, he could see ketterdam in mere days, disappearing before nikolai has to make his usual daylight excuses. ] I'll secure a Ravkan contact who isn’t terminally heroic. [ he catches nikolai’s eye. ] For business reasons. [ """business reasons""" ] She'll make a profitable alliance in return. It's the rare game where everyone wins.
[ kaz offers him small concessions, not exactly an unveiling — not that he expected one — but uncovering his thoughts little by little, enough that nikolai pays less attention to his touch than his words. he's been disconnected for too long, too caught up in his own head and kept away from his people for what zoya thinks is for his safety. it stings his pride that kaz knows better of the happenings outside of the palace walls than he does these days, that his people have gone so far to organize to some level of competence against him. if only they'd used some of that ingenuity during the civil war. ]
It's too late to leave me behind. You shouldn't have mentioned it to me, otherwise. [ kaz hasn't met his gaze for most of this, but he does now, the moonlight catching the color of his eyes. nikolai has memorized the particular shade of blue, looks for it in everything when kaz isn't around — the stained glass in the palace, the fresh flowers the servants cut for the tables, the sky through the bars at his window. none of it compares to the real thing, a view he'll sorely miss. the sapphire sparkles at his finger, pulling him from his thoughts. his hand finds kaz's wrist, flashing a brief smile. ] What do their conversations sound like? Do they mention how handsome I am? Do they miss my face on the money? I've heard the old coin has become quite the collectors item.
[ absently tracing the lines of blue-green veins at kaz's pale wrist, his eyes lower, expression sobering. of course kaz has been concocting a scheme to protect him. to diffuse the bomb his life has become. is it so he can leave? there's no other explanation for why he's still here, not after all the time they haven't even spoken. his fingertip moves over the creases in kaz's palm, another sensation he wonders if he's ever experienced. ]
This isn't about alliances. This is about making amends. Making things right. [ perhaps he's the only one that still cares about that sentiment. possible that he's the only one that ever cared. he laces their fingers together and squeezes tight, looking into kaz's eyes. ] Do you understand that? I know what you're trying to do. But these people are owed justice that they'll never get. The least we can do is try not to manipulate them into a profitable scheme. [ he looks away with a shake of his head. ] Not we. You haven't done anything wrong to them. In any case, I'm coming with you whether you want me to or not, so I'm afraid you'll have to put up with my terminal heroism for a bit longer. And if you try to sneak off without me you might as well sneak your way onto a ship back to Ketterdam because I'm rather irritating when I'm cross and you'll likely want to kill me yourself once I find you.
[ he pulls away, a spike of frustration rising in his chest. kaz's warmth disappearing from his side feels like a loss. he sheds his boots, striding barefoot down the grassy bank to the edge of the still lake. ] This isn't a game, Brekker. No one wins, except maybe you, because in the end you get to leave this place. We all have to stay and live with the mess I've made.
[ with a quick breath, he slips beneath the water, disappearing with hardly a splash. he's been here hundreds of times, could swim the entire expanse of the lake with his eyes closed. can't see anything in the inky darkness of the night anyway. he relaxes his limbs, letting himself drift underwater, holding his breath even as his chest grows tight. he's not ready to come back up because it's all beginning to feel too real — facing his crimes, asking for the sort of forgiveness he knows he doesn't deserve, watching kaz board a ship and leave him. ]
[ as anticipated, nikolai proves unhappy with his methods and just spiteful enough to join the job. more surprising is the prick of guilt kaz feels for having goaded and disappointed him in rapid succession. you were always going to. a vengeful spirit, a selfish creature. perhaps nikolai would like to fix him in that regard, too, but no one can.
he stays the retorts in his mouth, focused on masking any reaction to nikolai’s departure. when he disappears beneath the black water, kaz drops his head to his knee and drags his hands through his hair. why should he be punished for returning to where he belongs, when nikolai wishes to stay here so badly that he’d rather die than live in exile? it isn’t as if he’s truly gone, when nikolai could come find him whenever he wanted or write him when he lacks the time. but he won’t. there are limits to his want, it seems.
it takes kaz longer than it should to act, but the next thing nikolai feels will be kaz’s hand on his head, pushing him deeper with brute strength until his body instinctively sputters. however much he wants to die, the individual cells and limbs don’t — certainly not painfully — they’ll always fight to live. kaz then yanks nikolai above the water by the shirt (his shirt), tearing the topmost buttons along the way. and if nikolai doesn’t clear his lungs of his own accord, kaz will ensure he does by force. ]
Of course I get to leave, you dramatic skiv. This isn’t my country. [ his city, his crew, his enemies, duties and debts all lie elsewhere. you’ve barely looked at me in days. you didn’t want me here in the first place. you told me to leave on sight. ] I came back for you of my own accord. [ he danced around admitting that on the first day, saying he would have done it, if asked, but the truth is he only came because zoya invoked nikolai in the first place. ] I stayed for you. I keep getting in this damned water — because I — I know that it’s about making amends for you. [ he loosens his grip on nikolai’s collar, all too aware of the cold seeping into his skin, the pain in his leg from a long day and night. a shark doesn’t fear the water, but his sense memory chills him all the same. ]
I found everyone who wishes to meet already, so you can make amends with them. [ because nikolai understands the puzzle of each person, too, and won’t be able to run from his responsibilities when they come to him in the flesh. ] But there are others. And for them, it’s about power. [ a barely perceptible ache undercuts his rasp. ] They were made to feel helpless. [ by the demon, by losses so great they had to rewrite the rules of their universe to carry on after them. ] That’s what I can — what I will offer them. [ it’s all he can offer anyone in this situation (trapped at the menagerie like inej, drowning in debts like jesper): the backing and tools to never feel helpless again. that's power. and without justice, power is everything. ]
I’m still here. [ his voice softens. ] For a little while longer. [ long enough to help nikolai to his feet, or so he hopes. half-expecting to be pushed away, he cards his hand back through nikolai’s wet hair, sliding lower to the damp curve of his neck. ]
[ it's immediate, the way the demon rears when kaz shoves him down. panic floods him for an entirely different reason than the thought of drowning — he won't, he'd never, the thought that he'd die in such a way is entirely absurd — and he barely reins the beast in before he comes up with a gasp he doesn't want to take, eyes opening wide to face the brunt of kaz's displeasure, water dripping from his lashes. he could tip him into the water from his angle, a sentiment he swiftly discards. that would ruin things. ruin things further. he's been trying to hold this broken thing together in his hands but it keeps slipping away from him, just like everything else — and it will until he fixes himself somehow, but is that even possible anymore? he shudders, a flicker of black lacing across his skin, there and gone. ]
You don't need me anymore. [ the words are out before he can snatch them back — and he dearly wants to snatch them back. what a daft thing to say. it sounds like an accusation when it should be a good thing. it's what he wanted all along, for kaz to move beyond this, beyond him. but now he's on the precipice of just that, and nikolai feels like he's fallen into a pit of darkness with no walls to climb, nothing to catch his bearings on. ] And I — [ what? what can he say? love you? he can't. he said it to dominik and he died. he doesn't trust that he's cleared that disaster, that he's not still dangerous. not after everything that's happened. and what is kaz supposed to do with that anyway? ] You don't need me anymore, but I need you. I need you for more than just a little while. I need you to stay by my side, but I can't — I can't ask that of you, and I can't keep you, because people... people aren't things. It's always been like you said.
[ eyes falling shut, a shiver skitters over his skin at the sensation of kaz's nimble fingers winding through his dripping hair, settling lower. he wants to climb out of the lake and hold kaz one last time tonight, wet clothes and all, but he clings to the bank instead, floating gently in the water, trying to pull the shards of his thoughts together. he can't keep being a lovesick boy. tomorrow he has to be something closer to a king, something more like the man he used to be once upon a time, before he became a monster. kaz doesn't need him anymore. maybe he should take comfort in it instead of mourning it.
he finds kaz's hand in the dark, squeezes his cold fingers. ] You need to go back to Ketterdam. You've done more than your part here. I've kept you away from your life long enough. [ his eyes remain steady, his voice doesn't waver. the practiced ease of saying all kinds of things he doesn't want to say comes back to him like an old, familiar habit. moreover, it's the right thing to do. doesn't make it any easier. ] You'll set sail the evening after tomorrow. I can't keep wondering how long you'll be here, and I know you're needed back home. We both know that everything that's coming I have to do alone anyway.
[ a quick breath. he finds a smile, digging his elbows into the grassy bank so he can crane his neck higher, brushing a brief kiss to kaz's lips. he looks twice as pale in the moonlight, the sharp angles of his face cast in shadow, like a statue of marble. maybe they never should have left the bed after all. ]
Take the garden path back to the hothouse. I need to be alone. [ slowly, their hands slip apart. the night feels colder this way. ] I have to think about what to say tomorrow.
[ saints, he never manages to say the right thing, the right way, does he? always pushing nikolai as soon as he reels him in. can’t stop the flash of confusion that only starts to hints at hurt (possibilities of visiting the laboratory, of further closeness, winking out) before he flattens his expression. nikolai makes these decisions in seconds, and they’re impossible to undo. a king’s will.
you don’t need me anymore, as if nikolai has finally managed to sever their tether — as if fixing him was all that mattered (and that work surely isn’t done). nikolai understands so much about him but not this. because you don’t let him. withholding since their first meeting here and even in their last, with nikolai begging him to stay. should have savoured that more, now that he’s being sent away. still, it’s the right move for the both of them and stings all the more for it. it isn’t fair to keep nikolai in purgatory, inviting him to ask for support and then reminding him it can’t last. dangerous for kaz to stray so far from the harbour, too, where brekker was born. palace luxuries, ravkan pleasantries, and tender company all conspire to make him soft.
no place for him here, and no place for nikolai in ketterdam with him. ]
It’s never been about need for me. [ is that unkind to say? he only means it to be honest. cane in hand, he rises to his feet on unsteady legs. hard to recalibrate when nikolai changes the rules of the game, but he can do it. worse storms than this have rattled through him before. ] I want you. [ his throat tightens, voice thinning. ] I want you to — [ to come back. no, can’t drag him backwards when he’s stumbling onward. let him go. he shudders an exhale. ]
They want to meet you. The families. [ through the anger and hurt, there’s the yawning need for answers. as much as any can exist, nikolai has them. ] They knew the king long before they met the monster. [ he pivots on his left heel to leave, tossing a final remark over his shoulder. ] Something about a handsome face on what little coin this country has.
[ he stops short of saying something else he knows to be true. you don’t need me, either. doesn’t matter, unless nikolai believes it himself. only he can face his shadow.
it’s decided then, in his mind, that he’ll further speed up the timeline for both their sakes. even with the walk and rousing annika, he can force his proposed meeting into the wee hours of this very morning and spirit his crew away by first light. it’ll be trickier to rush this, but it’s doable. better not to deal with nikolai or zoya on the way out. he'll accept the latter's wrath in the post (and the former's disappointment in silence, presumably).
the crows weather his sour mood on the trip home. ]
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what is he thinking? his eyes flutter open, a brief glance at kaz’s flushed face as if it might tell him something. nothing. he at least looks lost in the haze of pleasure, perhaps in a place the water can’t get to him. nikolai kisses him again, his hand snaking between them to obey kaz’s request, fingers firm around his cock. for a long moment he does nothing but drag his thumb along the tip, squeezing tight, drinking in the strangled moans pulled from kaz’s throat as he keeps the rhythm of his hips steady. if only he could have him like this every night, if their time wasn’t constantly running out. so many things he needs to say, so many things he can’t.
a cry rushes past his lips, head lowering to press to kaz’s cheek, hips buried deep within him as if he can somehow hide in him. his tongue burns with the unsaid, nearly pushed out of him with need, but he nips sharply at kaz’s earlobe instead, his hand working him over to push him over the edge, to distract. he can’t. what will kaz do with the weight of his feelings? hide them in his bruised heart, carry them across the sea back to ketterdam? there’s room. kaz’s heart is bigger than he knows, but to be prepared to hold such a thing is another matter entirely. and nikolai knows he’s not. he hasn’t taken the time to properly excavate a place yet, to set down a bedding so that there will be some place for this to go that doesn’t hurt. his heart is half shadowed, turned away from the light, a coping mechanism to protect himself from a lifetime of hurt. nikolai can’t just cut in with a sunlit blade because he wants to.
he feels the familiar tightening of kaz’s lithe body, the hitching of his breath. nikolai drags a messy kiss along his jaw, stealing a fleeting look, his tongue tracing his slick skin, a satisfied breath huffed along his throat when kaz spills wet between them. it turns quickly into a groan, kaz’s body clenching around him, drawing him into a haze of aching need that tips him over the edge. he sinks his face into kaz’s cheek, winding a hand into his hair and blindly pulling, tilting his jaw skyward as he buries a moan into his skin, a shudder seizing him as he tries to pull kaz closer still. a wispy pattern of black fragments from his eyes, down his cheekbone, trailing like a spiderweb down his skin, there and gone in a blink.
a rasp — ] Tell me what you’re thinking. Don’t shut me out. Don’t —
[ but he pushes up and the words die on his tongue, kaz’s face glassy-eyed and bloodied, his throat torn open as if by teeth. fangs. nikolai blinks and the image clears. kaz, alive and flushed, long strands of his hair gently clinging to his damp skin. he swallows, holding himself still above him, breath unsteady, heart rattling in his chest. can’t move. his eyes fall on the ring, on kaz’s glittering eyes, and he slowly reaches out to brush his hair back, his fingers trailing softly down the neat line of his jaw. wants to keep touching but the sight of his scars against kaz’s pale skin sends a nervous shiver down his spine. he moves back, scooting to the edge of the bed, his back to kaz as he steadies himself, his eyes on the pale curtains. ]
We should have gone. [ a murmur to himself, barely loud enough to be heard. in his heart he knows there’s little sense in running. you can’t outrun something that lives inside of you. ] We should have left this place.
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awed that nikolai gave him everything he wanted for once, knocked stupid by his feverish kiss, absorbed in the mess made of himself and his borrowed bed — he shouldn't be surprised by how fluent nikolai is in his wants, but there's nuance in the translation and interpretation that no one else has ever managed. it takes him too long to catch up to where nikolai sprints ahead. don’t shut me out. his brow creases as he processes the dawning horror on nikolai’s face, the shake in his singed fingers, and the tendrils cracking his cheeks. can’t find the words to explain himself, possibilities violently swinging between revealing and evasive. none prove worthy of answering the tender way nikolai pushes back his hair and looks at him like he can't believe he's there.
then, nikolai’s gone.
the sudden distance reminds him that nikolai is often lost in his own head, unsure of what parts and words are real even more so than kaz, and that he struggles to anchor himself in the present just the same. the difference is that while kaz loses himself in the same halls and rooms — and can thus find his way back — nikolai keeps building new paths. stairs that lead nowhere, doors that open into nothing. it makes him harder to find than anyone kaz has ever known, but perhaps he’s getting better at giving chase. hitched up on his elbows, he watches nikolai’s shoulders lift on uneven breaths. his words could mean various things, uttered so quietly he can’t be sure he heard them right.
still, one truth supersedes all others: there’s nowhere but here. your shadow follows you everywhere you go and grows when you do wrong. ]
[ mildly, though his voice aches from overuse. ] If I were shutting you out, [ kaz swings his legs over the other side of the bed, extending the right to test the stretch of the muscle. sore in a less pleasant way than the rest of him, but that’s to be expected. ] I’d have thrown you off the bed the second you sat down.
[ the night air cools his damp skin without nikolai’s heat guarding him against it. he supposes he isn’t letting nikolai close the way he did before, but how can he? kaz rises to his feet and limps to the washroom, the sound of running water echoing in his grand rooms. in moments, he returns wearing the clothes he’d stripped off before bed that night, trousers wrinkled and shirt unbuttoned, tie loose at his neck. leaning against the open doorframe of the connecting room, he looks more spectre than man.
for his part, nikolai looks, well, somewhere between debauched and haunted, which sparks opposing instincts in his brain. slowly, he pushes himself off the wall and draws toward where nikolai sits. ]
It’s a nice night for a walk. [ tipping his head to one side and then the other, as he considers the obstacles for that proposition. ] Provided you won’t fly away. [ a beat. ] And you don’t mind black. [ borrowing his clothes so they don’t have to venture back to nikolai's chambers or alert any watchers to their activities. it’s no journey to a secret laboratory, but it’s a sign of trust, of care, of whatever they might still have slipping under his armour. when they’re close enough to touch, a glimmer of hesitancy sneaks into his slanted gaze, blue eyes almost black in the dark. prepared for nikolai to shudder into a slouching, screeching thing, with knives up his sleeves and hands flexed. could block the first strike and only sacrifice his arm to the creature that’s not quite nikolai. or nikolai could bolt past him and slip through his fingers once again. he clears his throat. ] I’m not an easy person to… [ want, love, know in any capacity. however little or much nikolai feels for him, it’s not a simple thing to manage. he swallows, throat bobbing. the bruise on his neck twinges, muscle memory. ] But you — you’re closer than you think. [ a little intake of breath. he holds up one hand, ring balanced delicately on the tip of his finger, and then extends the other, palm open to take nikolai’s and return the gift, if he’ll allow it. ]
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something so simple as falling asleep with him feels just as impossible as when the monster used to rule his nights. now it's just the nightmares and new terrors unearthed from forgotten places in his memory. the chains are no longer necessary to keep the demon at bay, but he finds he can't sleep unbound anymore, the restraints somehow a wretched sort of comfort after years of use. mortifying, if kaz knew. sometimes he's surprised he can't look at him and simply peg his every hidden weakness. ]
I won't fly away. Unless you wanted to come with. There's only a small chance that a royal sniper would take me out. [ another flash of a smile, relaxing his posture but watching kaz carefully. he doesn't miss the hesitancy in his gaze, fleeting as it is. doesn't doubt that kaz is armed now that he's dressed. can't blame him for any of it, considering their history, considering his general instability, considering the scars kaz bears that nikolai placed on his skin. but still kaz approaches him, the glint of the sapphire on his fingertip, a confession on his tongue. nikolai holds his gaze, quiet. you're closer than you think. is he just saying that because he knows he's losing this battle against himself? no, kaz would never shame him with pity. nikolai is the only liar here.
he forces himself to uncurl his fingers, reaching out to place his hand into kaz's waiting palm. the ring is still warm when he slides it onto his finger, past the tendrils of black marking his skin. it grounds him in a way, a physical reminder to stay in this moment, his fingers wrapping around the bone of kaz's wrist as he tugs him close, arm sliding around his waist, craning his neck to press a kiss to his throat — healthy and whole, marked only with a harmless bruise. ]
You're not hard to be with. It's only hard when you're not here. [ he draws in a breath, surprised at his own words. masks it with another quick kiss, this time to his mouth, before standing, moving away to paw through kaz's neat drawer of colorless clothing. ] Black's not really my color, you know. Sort of washes me out. [ but he settles for trousers and a white shirt, rolling up the sleeves and then running his hands through his hopelessly tousled hair, eager to leave the confines of the palace, even if it's just to trail the grounds.
he shoves his boots on and doesn't bother giving kaz time to smooth his collar or make a proper knot of his tie, instead pushing his cane into one hand and lacing his fingers through the other, pulling him out the door and through the maze of darkened hallways. they exit through a little-used tea room into a glass hothouse full of exotic greenery — lush flowers spiraling from the high ceilings, pools of water surrounded by pebbled pathways, tiny trees boasting colorful blossoms and spiky fruit. the night sky twinkles through the domed glass above their heads, and nikolai turns and presents his open palm beneath kaz's nose, a butterfly with iridescent wings opening slowly in his hand. ]
Queen Tatiana — my mother — used to hold her salons here in the winter months. Doesn't get much use now. I used to catch frogs in here, and I once broke a window trying to skip rocks on the pond. [ he places the butterfly on kaz's shoulder and pulls him through the greenhouse until they reach the doors, tipping them open and letting the light spill out into the entrance of the manicured garden, the cool night air rushing to meet them. he squeezes kaz's hand, leading them outside and down the winding path surrounded by blooming flowers and marble statues, heading for the lake halfway to the little palace. he slows their pace when they step off the paved pathway and into the grass, matching kaz's stride and keeping their hands clasped. for a long moment he says nothing, and then — ] I don't know if I can do this without you. I don't know that I want to.
[ he swallows, stopping at the bank of the lake. won't push kaz to go in tonight, not after everything. instead he eases them both into the grass, his brow furrowed at he stares at the sleek water, the moon's reflection glimmering across the surface. he feels better beneath the open sky, less trapped. still lost. still leaning too hard on kaz as if he holds all the answers. he shakes his head, reaching out to gently trace the lines beneath kaz's eye with his thumb. ] I shouldn't have dragged you out here. You're exhausted. [ he presses closer to him. ] Rest. Don't listen to me. I hardly know what I'm saying.
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too distracted to dress himself efficiently, kaz half-watches as nikolai makes a mess of his things and covers sun-deprived skin with his clothes. a warm flutter in his gut at the sight. like he’s yours. but he’s not. people aren’t things; they don’t belong to anyone. it’s enough that nikolai came back (to himself, to kaz’s room). from here, their paths will inevitably diverge.
when nikolai rushes him out the door, hands clasped in what seems like an ongoing apology, he can only muster a fond sort of annoyance, lips tight from holding back a smile. although kaz has stayed in the palace twice now, he’s never before taken this route and can’t quite hide his curiosity, gaze tilted skyward in the hothouse. hard to fathom how a lowly canal rat ended up in the queen’s gardens, walking hand-in-hand with a king. more believable is nikolai’s story: a lonely little prince, causing trouble and honing his charm to win attention.
his mouth curves before he can stop it, appreciative of nikolai’s magic trick. although he looks away quickly, the bobble in his step as they leave surely gives something away. (that nikolai can eclipse his detachment with a tug of his hand). strange to be out on the open air with nikolai, then, even under the protection of darkness. with a roll of his shoulders, he settles beside nikolai, a fixed point beside him. always reaching out, gaze heavy, still holding his hand, brow furrowed again — his eyes close and open. ]
[ dryly, ] You must be pleased, if you’re trying to ruin the moment. [ invoking kaz’s tiredness or his own imagined selfishness. nikolai’s melancholy is proof that it was right to give back to him, however much guilt having anything for himself inspires. kaz bends his good knee, stretching an arm over it. nearly yawns, but then he’d have to concede a point to nikolai instead of teasing, ] That’s your tell. [ it wears different guises (melancholy, self-destruction, violence unto others), but it comes from the same place. he slides his other hand over the small of nikolai’s back to encourage him closer. a proximity he would never have thought possible. even now, it slows his processing, caught up in the way they fit together in a new configuration.
the lakeside breeze cards through his hair. ]
I’m fine. [ tired but not exhausted, only half as burnt out as he was on their journey to the find the heart and the weeks that followed. his only affliction now is a want so big it verges on need. should leave at that, content to have this night as another miraculous thing in his memory. instead, his mind pivots, thoughts clustering around another idea. i can’t do this without you. nikolai can, but he doesn’t have to. not the whole time. ]
I have a meeting with someone who’d like to kill you tomorrow. [ a beat. ] After your evening performance. [ his altogether too loud antics at mealtimes, which kaz has skipped since the second day in the palace. ] You’ve kept in shape, haven’t you? [ mild, despite the tell-tale glint in his eye. ] Still know which way the muzzle points?
[ it’s a gamble to even mention it, with nikolai’s changeable mood — and general dislike for kaz putting himself in dangerous situations — but you can’t win the day without taking strategic risks. ]
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but kaz is nudging him closer, a small marvel amidst the wreckage he's created of everything else. somehow, he hasn't lost this. not yet. he doesn't want to think of how kaz will leave him soon, how he squandered so much of their time together, but all his thoughts seem circular these days, leading him down the same tangled paths, pushing him against the same old wounds. i'm fine, words passed between them so often they've become all but meaningless. he doesn't remember the last time he felt fine. impossible that kaz has felt fine at any point in the duration of his stay in the grand palace. his thumb trails briefly down his cheek, and he's seconds from kissing him when kaz speaks again, this time fully drawing his attention. ]
Is it someone from my drawings? Those are who you were meant to find. [ stated mildly enough, but there's a nearly indiscernible edge to his tone that he knows most people would miss. people who aren't kaz brekker. he certainly wouldn't put it past him to concoct his own schemes to run circles around them all without any of them being the wiser. but he also doesn't trust that kaz wouldn't put a bullet in the brain of any of the people clamoring for his head — but forbidding kaz to do anything would be like telling a spider not to be innately disturbing.
he flicks open the top few buttons of his shirt — kaz's shirt — and points out a small, star-shaped scar directly above his heart, too perfectly clean to be anything but unnatural. ] I stabbed myself in the heart once. It's a very long, strange story that likely should have killed me, but the point is I'm starting to believe I can't actually die, so you should feel perfectly safe handing me a pair of guns tomorrow. And I do want two. The real question is — [ he nuzzles at his throat, his hand slipping beneath the hem of kaz's shirt to graze at his skin. ] Will I have to stop you from doing anything rash? I won't have you killing our subjects.
[ he presses a kiss beneath his ear to soften his words, the side unmarred by his bruises, but there's steel there, too. his eyes flutter open, lashes brushing his skin. ] What's your game, Brekker?
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I like you better alive. [ a confession that comes too quick to be anything but true. he brushes a kiss over nikolai’s temple because the impulse strikes him — and because it conveniently precludes eye contact. your tell. the tip of his gaze to inej in the harbour, the inevitable pull of it towards nikolai wherever he is in a room. he digs his nails into his palm, drawing his focus down his free arm and across the water.
the thought of entering the lake never occurs to him, but he imagines nikolai would enjoy it, burnished with sunlight. ]
Easy. [ kaz squeezes his side, fingers slipping under his shirt. copycat. they skim his waistband next, hooking inside to follow his hipbone further down, hopeful for a shiver that has nothing to do with the evening breeze. ] I’ve been a good soldier, moi tsar. [ always is, when it suits him. zoya can attest that he has dutifully matched the drawings to almost all of the families already. his mouth tugs sideways into a smirk. ] And I’m anything but rash. [ he thinks of relieving oomen of his sight and dropping him in the sea. perhaps he is a liar, when it comes to revealing his nature, but the only ravkan kaz injured on this trip is nikolai — nikolai, kissing him gently to offset the harshness of his accusation. appreciated but unnecessary. of course he has his own game. he’s kaz brekker. (but if he were the same kaz brekker that accepted the ice court job, he’d say nothing more until the game’s end.) ]
If I have something she wants, [ like nikolai, for instance. ] she’ll listen before anyone has to shoot. [ his hand abruptly reverses course, smoothing up the planes of nikolai’s stomach and over his chest to trace the starburst scar. another tell. can’t help but study the miracle that is nikolai’s presence, the unstoppable pulse under his hand. if any of their gods and saints are real, they must want him to live. how could they not? ] Persuading her to back down will lower the temperature of the conversation everywhere. [ and nearly eliminate the likelihood of further, competent assassination attempts from within ravka (at least as revenge for the demon’s work). and if they play this right, he could see ketterdam in mere days, disappearing before nikolai has to make his usual daylight excuses. ] I'll secure a Ravkan contact who isn’t terminally heroic. [ he catches nikolai’s eye. ] For business reasons. [ """business reasons""" ] She'll make a profitable alliance in return. It's the rare game where everyone wins.
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It's too late to leave me behind. You shouldn't have mentioned it to me, otherwise. [ kaz hasn't met his gaze for most of this, but he does now, the moonlight catching the color of his eyes. nikolai has memorized the particular shade of blue, looks for it in everything when kaz isn't around — the stained glass in the palace, the fresh flowers the servants cut for the tables, the sky through the bars at his window. none of it compares to the real thing, a view he'll sorely miss. the sapphire sparkles at his finger, pulling him from his thoughts. his hand finds kaz's wrist, flashing a brief smile. ] What do their conversations sound like? Do they mention how handsome I am? Do they miss my face on the money? I've heard the old coin has become quite the collectors item.
[ absently tracing the lines of blue-green veins at kaz's pale wrist, his eyes lower, expression sobering. of course kaz has been concocting a scheme to protect him. to diffuse the bomb his life has become. is it so he can leave? there's no other explanation for why he's still here, not after all the time they haven't even spoken. his fingertip moves over the creases in kaz's palm, another sensation he wonders if he's ever experienced. ]
This isn't about alliances. This is about making amends. Making things right. [ perhaps he's the only one that still cares about that sentiment. possible that he's the only one that ever cared. he laces their fingers together and squeezes tight, looking into kaz's eyes. ] Do you understand that? I know what you're trying to do. But these people are owed justice that they'll never get. The least we can do is try not to manipulate them into a profitable scheme. [ he looks away with a shake of his head. ] Not we. You haven't done anything wrong to them. In any case, I'm coming with you whether you want me to or not, so I'm afraid you'll have to put up with my terminal heroism for a bit longer. And if you try to sneak off without me you might as well sneak your way onto a ship back to Ketterdam because I'm rather irritating when I'm cross and you'll likely want to kill me yourself once I find you.
[ he pulls away, a spike of frustration rising in his chest. kaz's warmth disappearing from his side feels like a loss. he sheds his boots, striding barefoot down the grassy bank to the edge of the still lake. ] This isn't a game, Brekker. No one wins, except maybe you, because in the end you get to leave this place. We all have to stay and live with the mess I've made.
[ with a quick breath, he slips beneath the water, disappearing with hardly a splash. he's been here hundreds of times, could swim the entire expanse of the lake with his eyes closed. can't see anything in the inky darkness of the night anyway. he relaxes his limbs, letting himself drift underwater, holding his breath even as his chest grows tight. he's not ready to come back up because it's all beginning to feel too real — facing his crimes, asking for the sort of forgiveness he knows he doesn't deserve, watching kaz board a ship and leave him. ]
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he stays the retorts in his mouth, focused on masking any reaction to nikolai’s departure. when he disappears beneath the black water, kaz drops his head to his knee and drags his hands through his hair. why should he be punished for returning to where he belongs, when nikolai wishes to stay here so badly that he’d rather die than live in exile? it isn’t as if he’s truly gone, when nikolai could come find him whenever he wanted or write him when he lacks the time. but he won’t. there are limits to his want, it seems.
it takes kaz longer than it should to act, but the next thing nikolai feels will be kaz’s hand on his head, pushing him deeper with brute strength until his body instinctively sputters. however much he wants to die, the individual cells and limbs don’t — certainly not painfully — they’ll always fight to live. kaz then yanks nikolai above the water by the shirt (his shirt), tearing the topmost buttons along the way. and if nikolai doesn’t clear his lungs of his own accord, kaz will ensure he does by force. ]
Of course I get to leave, you dramatic skiv. This isn’t my country. [ his city, his crew, his enemies, duties and debts all lie elsewhere. you’ve barely looked at me in days. you didn’t want me here in the first place. you told me to leave on sight. ] I came back for you of my own accord. [ he danced around admitting that on the first day, saying he would have done it, if asked, but the truth is he only came because zoya invoked nikolai in the first place. ] I stayed for you. I keep getting in this damned water — because I — I know that it’s about making amends for you. [ he loosens his grip on nikolai’s collar, all too aware of the cold seeping into his skin, the pain in his leg from a long day and night. a shark doesn’t fear the water, but his sense memory chills him all the same. ]
I found everyone who wishes to meet already, so you can make amends with them. [ because nikolai understands the puzzle of each person, too, and won’t be able to run from his responsibilities when they come to him in the flesh. ] But there are others. And for them, it’s about power. [ a barely perceptible ache undercuts his rasp. ] They were made to feel helpless. [ by the demon, by losses so great they had to rewrite the rules of their universe to carry on after them. ] That’s what I can — what I will offer them. [ it’s all he can offer anyone in this situation (trapped at the menagerie like inej, drowning in debts like jesper): the backing and tools to never feel helpless again. that's power. and without justice, power is everything. ]
I’m still here. [ his voice softens. ] For a little while longer. [ long enough to help nikolai to his feet, or so he hopes. half-expecting to be pushed away, he cards his hand back through nikolai’s wet hair, sliding lower to the damp curve of his neck. ]
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You don't need me anymore. [ the words are out before he can snatch them back — and he dearly wants to snatch them back. what a daft thing to say. it sounds like an accusation when it should be a good thing. it's what he wanted all along, for kaz to move beyond this, beyond him. but now he's on the precipice of just that, and nikolai feels like he's fallen into a pit of darkness with no walls to climb, nothing to catch his bearings on. ] And I — [ what? what can he say? love you? he can't. he said it to dominik and he died. he doesn't trust that he's cleared that disaster, that he's not still dangerous. not after everything that's happened. and what is kaz supposed to do with that anyway? ] You don't need me anymore, but I need you. I need you for more than just a little while. I need you to stay by my side, but I can't — I can't ask that of you, and I can't keep you, because people... people aren't things. It's always been like you said.
[ eyes falling shut, a shiver skitters over his skin at the sensation of kaz's nimble fingers winding through his dripping hair, settling lower. he wants to climb out of the lake and hold kaz one last time tonight, wet clothes and all, but he clings to the bank instead, floating gently in the water, trying to pull the shards of his thoughts together. he can't keep being a lovesick boy. tomorrow he has to be something closer to a king, something more like the man he used to be once upon a time, before he became a monster. kaz doesn't need him anymore. maybe he should take comfort in it instead of mourning it.
he finds kaz's hand in the dark, squeezes his cold fingers. ] You need to go back to Ketterdam. You've done more than your part here. I've kept you away from your life long enough. [ his eyes remain steady, his voice doesn't waver. the practiced ease of saying all kinds of things he doesn't want to say comes back to him like an old, familiar habit. moreover, it's the right thing to do. doesn't make it any easier. ] You'll set sail the evening after tomorrow. I can't keep wondering how long you'll be here, and I know you're needed back home. We both know that everything that's coming I have to do alone anyway.
[ a quick breath. he finds a smile, digging his elbows into the grassy bank so he can crane his neck higher, brushing a brief kiss to kaz's lips. he looks twice as pale in the moonlight, the sharp angles of his face cast in shadow, like a statue of marble. maybe they never should have left the bed after all. ]
Take the garden path back to the hothouse. I need to be alone. [ slowly, their hands slip apart. the night feels colder this way. ] I have to think about what to say tomorrow.
no subject
you don’t need me anymore, as if nikolai has finally managed to sever their tether — as if fixing him was all that mattered (and that work surely isn’t done). nikolai understands so much about him but not this. because you don’t let him. withholding since their first meeting here and even in their last, with nikolai begging him to stay. should have savoured that more, now that he’s being sent away. still, it’s the right move for the both of them and stings all the more for it. it isn’t fair to keep nikolai in purgatory, inviting him to ask for support and then reminding him it can’t last. dangerous for kaz to stray so far from the harbour, too, where brekker was born. palace luxuries, ravkan pleasantries, and tender company all conspire to make him soft.
no place for him here, and no place for nikolai in ketterdam with him. ]
It’s never been about need for me. [ is that unkind to say? he only means it to be honest. cane in hand, he rises to his feet on unsteady legs. hard to recalibrate when nikolai changes the rules of the game, but he can do it. worse storms than this have rattled through him before. ] I want you. [ his throat tightens, voice thinning. ] I want you to — [ to come back. no, can’t drag him backwards when he’s stumbling onward. let him go. he shudders an exhale. ]
They want to meet you. The families. [ through the anger and hurt, there’s the yawning need for answers. as much as any can exist, nikolai has them. ] They knew the king long before they met the monster. [ he pivots on his left heel to leave, tossing a final remark over his shoulder. ] Something about a handsome face on what little coin this country has.
[ he stops short of saying something else he knows to be true. you don’t need me, either. doesn’t matter, unless nikolai believes it himself. only he can face his shadow.
it’s decided then, in his mind, that he’ll further speed up the timeline for both their sakes. even with the walk and rousing annika, he can force his proposed meeting into the wee hours of this very morning and spirit his crew away by first light. it’ll be trickier to rush this, but it’s doable. better not to deal with nikolai or zoya on the way out. he'll accept the latter's wrath in the post (and the former's disappointment in silence, presumably).
the crows weather his sour mood on the trip home. ]