[ 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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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.
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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. ]