[ it's easier to fall back into shallow banter than to touch upon the unspoken unease that still lingers after the festival, tidied strangely by how he'd roused her from her nightmares in ianthe's bed.
no. better to try to keep things simple.
she's just finished toweling off her hair and getting dressed for bed, however, so she stops to check the clock. frowns. it's unusually late to make plans to stay over. ]
[ she is braiding her hair when he arrives — a trick ianthe had taught her, for keeping it under control while she sleeps, for helping the curls be smoother in the morning. she steps aside to let him past the threshold, but when he says that, she closes the door firmly behind him. ]
Don't you dare. [ she steps closer, slides her arms around his shoulders, draws him nearer and presses her forehead to his. this lasts for just a moment before she draws one hand back to cradle his jaw, putting a little space between them so she can search his dour expression. this and the hour — ] What's wrong?
[ she knows herself for a hypocrite when she feels her shoulders sag at the mention of quentin. his other lover. it isn't fair of her. not when he roused her in ianthe's bed, not when ianthe had given alina a key to her home and an open door.
not when she had let aleksander violate her in every imaginable way in the library for no reason other than she craved it. she hasn't told him. she knows she owes it to him to tell him, but she hasn't found a way to say it, a way to admit it to herself. better to hide it.
nikolai has nothing to hide. it is the nature of this place that it's unrealistic to belong only to each other—when even friends may need their touch. it doesn't stop her from wanting it, fair or not. so though she doesn't let go of him when he mentions quentin's name, her chest feels heavier for it.
she does, however, glance briefly back to her bed — two beds, fused to one, because she has yet to let go of genya and her disappearance. months ago, and still ... ]
I'm sorry. [ her hold on nikolai shifts. her arms settle around his middle instead, and she settles her head against his chest. listens to his heart. it's hard for him, just like it would be hard for her if the same became of ianthe. ] Are you sure he's ... [ she frowns. is it a comfort, or is it worse? ] Maybe something happened. Or ... maybe he's upset?
He might have transformed. Or he might be ignoring me.
[ And Nikolai cannot quite quell his own reaction to the concept of being ignored. It is absurd, when this feels more serious than simply a lack of response.
He distills it into something more succinct for her, as his hands curl at the small of her back: ]
[ she has found a fistful of the back of his shirt. she feels silly, now, in her sleeping shift, for thinking he'd come by just because he wanted to be with her.
but isn't this better? more real. to be close to him, to hear his honest worries and know that he isn't holding something back, that he isn't performing this partnership with her. ]
When Genya disappeared, we'd just argued, and I ... [ she draws back just enough to look at him. ] Not that this is the same. I mean, Quentin could be anywhere. You'll find him. You'll see him again.
And Genya too. We'll find her, no matter how cold the trail is. I believe that. [ she doesn't sound like she believes that. she frowns. ] What about John Gaius? Ianthe's emperor. Quentin turned to him when it came to hiding the All-Sight, didn't he? Maybe he knows something.
All Nikolai's misgivings, his worries throughout the day, what if it was as simple as Quentin vanishing the way others among them have done? As Genya had.
Nikolai bows his body down into hers. He is taller, yes, but they have found closeness so many times that there is no real preamble. He simply folds himself down to put his face in against her neck, let his arms tighten around her waist. ]
I trust Ianthe, [ is a murmur against Alina's throat. ] But not who she serves.
[ Had anyone searched for Genya? It had been such early days.
Has he failed Genya a second time, despite all his promises? ]
There's people I mean to seek out in the morning. But it's late. I think I have to leave it, for now.
[ she nods, soft, and reaches one hand up to comb through his hair, cradling him against her neck. it's unfamiliar to her, providing this kind of comfort, but she can remember ana kuya doing it when she was a child. can remember ianthe doing it for her, too, when there was blood on her hands.
it's a miserable feeling, this powerlessness. she wouldn't have wished it on aleksander, let alone on nikolai. she turns her face to kiss his temple. ]
I'll help you tomorrow. However you need. [ it should go without saying, shouldn't it? but here he is, late at night, after what sounds like a full day of worrying. he'd held himself back from reaching out to her, or it hadn't occurred to him. ]
I'm sorry to take up your time, [ is maybe some indication of what had stayed his hand earlier. Taking up her time. Or the distraction she poses, how easy it is to lean into her and let go of what has occupied him during the day. ] I hope I've been a fool today, and Quentin turns up in the morning as he always does.
[ And if he doesn't—
They will have to consider other options. Whatever those may look like in the light of day. ]
The better question, I think, is will I let you leave.
[ she brings both hands up to cup the sides of his face. then she kisses him—gentle, for a change, instead of hungry. not a means to instigate anything. it's as if she hopes that she might somehow assure him in ways that her words haven't managed that he is welcome here, wanted.
that he doesn't have to ask.
then she lowers her hands, takes his, and leads him back towards the bed. ] Come to bed.
[ she occupies herself with his buttons as she tries to puzzle over that. to be fair, daryl seems a paranoid type—but nikolai isn't. if he's ascertained that there might be something actionable, he's too clever for that to just be a feeling. ]
[ It's a thought that trails off into quiet as Nikolai turns over all the disparate pieces of the day in his head.
He should have come to Alina first thing, maybe. But even this feels something near to shirking a responsibility, this respite when there are still so many questions unanswered. ]
There's so much in the forest that poses a threat. And no one's found the person who murdered Felipe.
[ At her hips, his hands are restless. Folding and unfolding and folding the loose fabric of her nightdress between his fingers, a motion akin to fingers drumming on a tabletop. ]
[ she'd been asleep, when all that had happened. it's not that she necessarily still has any fondness for felipe: his behavior at lottie's party and the ensuing silence had rid her of that. but to hear he'd died was something else. ]
[ Jarring, realizing that she hadn't heard. Had no one—? ]
He's back now, [ Nikolai says, immediate. ] Someone killed him in the woods. Quentin and I found the body.
[ Abbreviated.
Alina doesn't need the know the details, what it had looked like, how upset Quentin had been and how Nikolai had gone steadier and steadier in reaction it even if he'd felt sick to see what had been done.
He catches her hand in his own. ]
Daryl and I went looking, but we didn't find enough to tell us who.
[ it doesn't do much for the numbness. alina has to accept it quickly, though. feels like she can't linger on her startled sense of unease because she needs to be present for nikolai, to comfort him.
she brings her other hand to his, rubs it comfortingly. it anchors her, too, as she blinks through the disconnect. ]
I — You think they might have killed Quentin, too?
[ It feels likely for reasons Nikolai can’t divulge. Wouldn’t tell Hopper, can’t tell Alina. Quentin hadn’t remembered any of what he’d said, but Nikolai does. It feels too revealing to share.
Nikolai turns his hand in hers, brings Alina’s fingers to his lips. ]
He’s alright, [ he reassures. ] I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.
[ she sputters it out automatically. moves her hands once he kisses them to cup his face, leaning up to tilt her forehead to his again. ]
I mean ... None of this is alright. But if something like that happened, there'll be proof of it in the wood or somewhere else. We can go look tomorrow.
[ 'we' because if the same person killed felipe and quentin, then it only makes sense that nikolai might also be a target for finding felipe's body. for being so close to quentin. she intends to keep very close to him.
but also tomorrow. she starts to undress him, attending to the buttons of his shirt. ]
Daryl's been, [ Nikolai murmurs, yielding to the work of her fingers at his buttons. It requires some inevitable rearrangement, lifting his arms for her so she might draw the tunic over and off of him. ] But there's no harm in looking.
[ Nothing's alright, no. ]
After Felipe, Jim Hopper and I went to walk the place we found him. There was nothing there either worth noting.
[ The obvious signs: the blood, the impact where the body fell after Quentin pulled it down. But nothing that led them towards a guilty party. ]
Well, has he said anything about what happened to him?
[ if it is indeed possible that it's the same issue, then maybe ... well. it's not like alina can offer to split the labor and go speak to felipe about it herself. that'd involve dredging up that he hasn't spoken to her since lottie's party, and —
well there are some things nikolai doesn't need to hear about. that she and nikolai don't need to revisit. ]
But he didn't want to talk about it. He might have told more to Quentin. I was trying to give him time.
[ And if he hesitates now, it's only because of what Lottie had said. How she had spoken about Felipe. What she had said about Felipe and Quentin, about Felipe and herself.
Bare-chested, he leans back into Alina. Drapes his arm back around her waist. ]
I should have told you when you woke. I wasn't thinking.
[ she feels terrible, admitting it. but it will comfort him and admit her own exhaustion at the same time. ]
Waking was ... hard. [ almost enough to make her wish she hadn't. she turns her face, buries her nose against the slope of his neck. ] But I'm glad you're telling me now. I want to help.
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[ it's easier to fall back into shallow banter than to touch upon the unspoken unease that still lingers after the festival, tidied strangely by how he'd roused her from her nightmares in ianthe's bed.
no. better to try to keep things simple.
she's just finished toweling off her hair and getting dressed for bed, however, so she stops to check the clock. frowns. it's unusually late to make plans to stay over. ]
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Perhaps this is too much. In this place, there are other beds. He could find his way to them with little negotiation.
But Nikolai wants to be here, with Alina. Even though he prefaces his step over the threshold with— ]
If the burden becomes too great, you can always send me back to my bed.
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Don't you dare. [ she steps closer, slides her arms around his shoulders, draws him nearer and presses her forehead to his. this lasts for just a moment before she draws one hand back to cradle his jaw, putting a little space between them so she can search his dour expression. this and the hour — ] What's wrong?
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Will he come to their bed weighted with worries? Will Alina ask after them this way? Would she already know them all? ]
Quentin didn't arrive at the apothecary's this morning. And he isn't answering me when I try to reach out to him.
[ Speaking to her of Quentin feels...thorny. Fraught, for reasons beyond Nikolai's own fears about what Quentin's silence could mean. ]
I haven't been able to find him.
(cw: refs to dubcon and unhealthy darkling shit)
not when she had let aleksander violate her in every imaginable way in the library for no reason other than she craved it. she hasn't told him. she knows she owes it to him to tell him, but she hasn't found a way to say it, a way to admit it to herself. better to hide it.
nikolai has nothing to hide. it is the nature of this place that it's unrealistic to belong only to each other—when even friends may need their touch. it doesn't stop her from wanting it, fair or not. so though she doesn't let go of him when he mentions quentin's name, her chest feels heavier for it.
she does, however, glance briefly back to her bed — two beds, fused to one, because she has yet to let go of genya and her disappearance. months ago, and still ... ]
I'm sorry. [ her hold on nikolai shifts. her arms settle around his middle instead, and she settles her head against his chest. listens to his heart. it's hard for him, just like it would be hard for her if the same became of ianthe. ] Are you sure he's ... [ she frowns. is it a comfort, or is it worse? ] Maybe something happened. Or ... maybe he's upset?
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[ So, alive. At least, alive for the moment. ]
He might have transformed. Or he might be ignoring me.
[ And Nikolai cannot quite quell his own reaction to the concept of being ignored. It is absurd, when this feels more serious than simply a lack of response.
He distills it into something more succinct for her, as his hands curl at the small of her back: ]
I'm worried for him.
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[ she has found a fistful of the back of his shirt. she feels silly, now, in her sleeping shift, for thinking he'd come by just because he wanted to be with her.
but isn't this better? more real. to be close to him, to hear his honest worries and know that he isn't holding something back, that he isn't performing this partnership with her. ]
When Genya disappeared, we'd just argued, and I ... [ she draws back just enough to look at him. ] Not that this is the same. I mean, Quentin could be anywhere. You'll find him. You'll see him again.
And Genya too. We'll find her, no matter how cold the trail is. I believe that. [ she doesn't sound like she believes that. she frowns. ] What about John Gaius? Ianthe's emperor. Quentin turned to him when it came to hiding the All-Sight, didn't he? Maybe he knows something.
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All Nikolai's misgivings, his worries throughout the day, what if it was as simple as Quentin vanishing the way others among them have done? As Genya had.
Nikolai bows his body down into hers. He is taller, yes, but they have found closeness so many times that there is no real preamble. He simply folds himself down to put his face in against her neck, let his arms tighten around her waist. ]
I trust Ianthe, [ is a murmur against Alina's throat. ] But not who she serves.
[ Had anyone searched for Genya? It had been such early days.
Has he failed Genya a second time, despite all his promises? ]
There's people I mean to seek out in the morning. But it's late. I think I have to leave it, for now.
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[ she nods, soft, and reaches one hand up to comb through his hair, cradling him against her neck. it's unfamiliar to her, providing this kind of comfort, but she can remember ana kuya doing it when she was a child. can remember ianthe doing it for her, too, when there was blood on her hands.
it's a miserable feeling, this powerlessness. she wouldn't have wished it on aleksander, let alone on nikolai. she turns her face to kiss his temple. ]
I'll help you tomorrow. However you need. [ it should go without saying, shouldn't it? but here he is, late at night, after what sounds like a full day of worrying. he'd held himself back from reaching out to her, or it hadn't occurred to him. ]
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[ Would it even be possible, helping? ]
I'm sorry to take up your time, [ is maybe some indication of what had stayed his hand earlier. Taking up her time. Or the distraction she poses, how easy it is to lean into her and let go of what has occupied him during the day. ] I hope I've been a fool today, and Quentin turns up in the morning as he always does.
[ And if he doesn't—
They will have to consider other options. Whatever those may look like in the light of day. ]
Will you let me stay?
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[ she brings both hands up to cup the sides of his face. then she kisses him—gentle, for a change, instead of hungry. not a means to instigate anything. it's as if she hopes that she might somehow assure him in ways that her words haven't managed that he is welcome here, wanted.
that he doesn't have to ask.
then she lowers her hands, takes his, and leads him back towards the bed. ] Come to bed.
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Daryl thought there was danger. That something had happened.
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[ she occupies herself with his buttons as she tries to puzzle over that. to be fair, daryl seems a paranoid type—but nikolai isn't. if he's ascertained that there might be something actionable, he's too clever for that to just be a feeling. ]
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[ It's a thought that trails off into quiet as Nikolai turns over all the disparate pieces of the day in his head.
He should have come to Alina first thing, maybe. But even this feels something near to shirking a responsibility, this respite when there are still so many questions unanswered. ]
There's so much in the forest that poses a threat. And no one's found the person who murdered Felipe.
[ At her hips, his hands are restless. Folding and unfolding and folding the loose fabric of her nightdress between his fingers, a motion akin to fingers drumming on a tabletop. ]
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[ she'd been asleep, when all that had happened. it's not that she necessarily still has any fondness for felipe: his behavior at lottie's party and the ensuing silence had rid her of that. but to hear he'd died was something else. ]
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He's back now, [ Nikolai says, immediate. ] Someone killed him in the woods. Quentin and I found the body.
[ Abbreviated.
Alina doesn't need the know the details, what it had looked like, how upset Quentin had been and how Nikolai had gone steadier and steadier in reaction it even if he'd felt sick to see what had been done.
He catches her hand in his own. ]
Daryl and I went looking, but we didn't find enough to tell us who.
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she brings her other hand to his, rubs it comfortingly. it anchors her, too, as she blinks through the disconnect. ]
I — You think they might have killed Quentin, too?
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[ It feels likely for reasons Nikolai can’t divulge. Wouldn’t tell Hopper, can’t tell Alina. Quentin hadn’t remembered any of what he’d said, but Nikolai does. It feels too revealing to share.
Nikolai turns his hand in hers, brings Alina’s fingers to his lips. ]
He’s alright, [ he reassures. ] I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.
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[ she sputters it out automatically. moves her hands once he kisses them to cup his face, leaning up to tilt her forehead to his again. ]
I mean ... None of this is alright. But if something like that happened, there'll be proof of it in the wood or somewhere else. We can go look tomorrow.
[ 'we' because if the same person killed felipe and quentin, then it only makes sense that nikolai might also be a target for finding felipe's body. for being so close to quentin. she intends to keep very close to him.
but also tomorrow. she starts to undress him, attending to the buttons of his shirt. ]
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[ Nothing's alright, no. ]
After Felipe, Jim Hopper and I went to walk the place we found him. There was nothing there either worth noting.
[ The obvious signs: the blood, the impact where the body fell after Quentin pulled it down. But nothing that led them towards a guilty party. ]
I haven't asked Felipe about this yet. Quentin.
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[ if it is indeed possible that it's the same issue, then maybe ... well. it's not like alina can offer to split the labor and go speak to felipe about it herself. that'd involve dredging up that he hasn't spoken to her since lottie's party, and —
well there are some things nikolai doesn't need to hear about. that she and nikolai don't need to revisit. ]
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[ Is only marginally helpful. ]
But he didn't want to talk about it. He might have told more to Quentin. I was trying to give him time.
[ And if he hesitates now, it's only because of what Lottie had said. How she had spoken about Felipe. What she had said about Felipe and Quentin, about Felipe and herself.
Bare-chested, he leans back into Alina. Drapes his arm back around her waist. ]
I should have told you when you woke. I wasn't thinking.
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[ she feels terrible, admitting it. but it will comfort him and admit her own exhaustion at the same time. ]
Waking was ... hard. [ almost enough to make her wish she hadn't. she turns her face, buries her nose against the slope of his neck. ] But I'm glad you're telling me now. I want to help.
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Thank you.
[ And then, softer— ]
Do you want to talk about it? [ is an offering, an open space between them in which he invites: ] About waking.
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