[ 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.
Not really. [ she sinks into him, though. that's all the comfort she could ask for, isn't it? more than enough. more than she deserves. he is warm and steady and trusting. ] You're here. That's enough.
Alina is tucked in against his chest. He has grown so accustomed to the prod of bone that it barely registers. Nikolai's fingers toy with the end of her braid, letting the quiet settle for a long moment before he murmurs— ]
I couldn't leave you like that. Hurting.
[ As if it isn't predictable in a way. Hadn't he always sought to intercede? To draw some of her hurt to him? ]
[ he's fidgeting. alina lifts her head, searches him. ]
I'm glad you did.
[ a beat. ]
I mean. I'm glad it was you. [ if it had gone longer, who else might have? ianthe had already asked if she ought to put alina out of that pain, the next time, and alina could not find it in herself to answer. ] I don't ... I didn't mind that you ... [ she fumbles over the words. ] I was just disoriented. By the nightmares.
It wasn't because of you. [ red-faced, uncomfortably laughing, ] You can do that whenever you want.
[ Comes so immediately, a knee-jerk deflection of what she gives to him.
Another night, under different circumstances, he might have cushioned it more gently. But he feels frayed apart, all his transgressions and errors washed up like so much wreckage around him. ]
Alina, you are...
[ A searching pause. He is so tired, and she is so many things, all of them so important. ]
You are my wife, [ feels insignificant even as he says it aloud. ] My partner. I don't want to do anything you mislike.
[ she snaps it out just as quickly. her hands drop from around him, if only because she feels foolish and embarrassed to be thus pressed against him when they're having this conversation. but she quickly reinitiates contact, raising her hands to hold the outside of his upper arms. ]
I'd be happy to wake up to you touching me every morning. [ she huffs it out, too flustered and stubborn to be embarrassed about the candidness. ] The difficult part was two weeks of nightmares. Of reliving the worst things I've done and seen. And then to wake up and — and know that those days were just missing, to feel like I woke up somewhere different than I went to sleep. Like I'd missed my life all over again.
[ Its just as well Alina reclaims contact so quickly, as the sudden break nearly propels Nikolai upright in reaction. The tension ebbs out of him as Alina catches hold of him again, settling as she begins to speak. ]
I'm sorry, [ for pressing her until she had to dredge that up for him, more than the experience of it this time. He presses on, lifting a hand to cup her cheek: ] I knew it was something less than pleasant, but not the extent of it.
[ And it does ease some of the guilt he's carried, to hear her. For Alina to be so specific. ]
[ she breathes out her frustration. that apology seeming to understand and even preempt her discomfort with having to muck through the unpleasant memories, even when she had deferred talking about it.
she feels better for it. they both do, probably. but that doesn't mean that she knows how to invite it. that she won't rally some defensive response instinctively the moment he knocks around where she's told him not to go.
still. he's taken the wind out of those sails. it wouldn't do any good to be sour about it, now, so she just tries her best to lean into the levity, to draw back out of that dark. ]
If you did it again tonight, I'd have no complaints. [ a beat. ] Well. Maybe a lack of sleep, when we both could use the rest. [ she brings her hands to his face, cradling. ] It's one of the better ways I've woken up, even on its own. So please, by all means.
[ Nikolai exhales under the frame of her hands, tension ebbing from his body. ]
Maybe we leave it for now, [ he tells her, quiet as his hand loops around her waist. ] I would rather you be awake for all of it, at least for now.
[ It's hard to put the right words to the entire experience. What he and Ianthe had discussed. How it had felt to be in bed with her. How it had felt to draw a response from her without any accompanying rejoinder to meet the nudging tug of his thoughts projected telepathically to her.
It's a snarl of feeling that may well be misplaced, given Alina's response now.
He rests his forehead to hers briefly, puts a soft kiss to her mouth. ]
Will you be disappointed to wake up to me without any fanfare accompanying my presence?
[ she stays close enough to his face even after he breaks the kiss that when she laughs, her breath is on his face. ]
That'd be poor foundation for a marriage, wouldn't it?
[ but then, maybe that's the kind of marriage he's used to. political alliances surely don't make for warm beds. maybe it's the kind they'd made, too, back in ravka. it's not uncommon in poverty, either. women bought like cattle made to tolerate men who work them like donkeys. ]
[ How would Nikolai know a poor foundation for marriage from a good foundation? He has so little to base it upon. Only his own instincts, and his need to do better than what he was raised alongside. ]
That's fortunate for me, because I'd like to do that more often.
[ As often as she'd permit.
This is not his room. His welcome here feels tenuous, conditional.
He tightens his hold on her, drawing her into him. Closes his eyes for a moment as they settle together. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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.
no subject
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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Alina is tucked in against his chest. He has grown so accustomed to the prod of bone that it barely registers. Nikolai's fingers toy with the end of her braid, letting the quiet settle for a long moment before he murmurs— ]
I couldn't leave you like that. Hurting.
[ As if it isn't predictable in a way. Hadn't he always sought to intercede? To draw some of her hurt to him? ]
no subject
I'm glad you did.
[ a beat. ]
I mean. I'm glad it was you. [ if it had gone longer, who else might have? ianthe had already asked if she ought to put alina out of that pain, the next time, and alina could not find it in herself to answer. ] I don't ... I didn't mind that you ... [ she fumbles over the words. ] I was just disoriented. By the nightmares.
It wasn't because of you. [ red-faced, uncomfortably laughing, ] You can do that whenever you want.
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[ Comes so immediately, a knee-jerk deflection of what she gives to him.
Another night, under different circumstances, he might have cushioned it more gently. But he feels frayed apart, all his transgressions and errors washed up like so much wreckage around him. ]
Alina, you are...
[ A searching pause. He is so tired, and she is so many things, all of them so important. ]
You are my wife, [ feels insignificant even as he says it aloud. ] My partner. I don't want to do anything you mislike.
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[ she snaps it out just as quickly. her hands drop from around him, if only because she feels foolish and embarrassed to be thus pressed against him when they're having this conversation. but she quickly reinitiates contact, raising her hands to hold the outside of his upper arms. ]
I'd be happy to wake up to you touching me every morning. [ she huffs it out, too flustered and stubborn to be embarrassed about the candidness. ] The difficult part was two weeks of nightmares. Of reliving the worst things I've done and seen. And then to wake up and — and know that those days were just missing, to feel like I woke up somewhere different than I went to sleep. Like I'd missed my life all over again.
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I'm sorry, [ for pressing her until she had to dredge that up for him, more than the experience of it this time. He presses on, lifting a hand to cup her cheek: ] I knew it was something less than pleasant, but not the extent of it.
[ And it does ease some of the guilt he's carried, to hear her. For Alina to be so specific. ]
If it happens again, should I do the same?
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she feels better for it. they both do, probably. but that doesn't mean that she knows how to invite it. that she won't rally some defensive response instinctively the moment he knocks around where she's told him not to go.
still. he's taken the wind out of those sails. it wouldn't do any good to be sour about it, now, so she just tries her best to lean into the levity, to draw back out of that dark. ]
If you did it again tonight, I'd have no complaints. [ a beat. ] Well. Maybe a lack of sleep, when we both could use the rest. [ she brings her hands to his face, cradling. ] It's one of the better ways I've woken up, even on its own. So please, by all means.
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Maybe we leave it for now, [ he tells her, quiet as his hand loops around her waist. ] I would rather you be awake for all of it, at least for now.
[ It's hard to put the right words to the entire experience. What he and Ianthe had discussed. How it had felt to be in bed with her. How it had felt to draw a response from her without any accompanying rejoinder to meet the nudging tug of his thoughts projected telepathically to her.
It's a snarl of feeling that may well be misplaced, given Alina's response now.
He rests his forehead to hers briefly, puts a soft kiss to her mouth. ]
Will you be disappointed to wake up to me without any fanfare accompanying my presence?
no subject
That'd be poor foundation for a marriage, wouldn't it?
[ but then, maybe that's the kind of marriage he's used to. political alliances surely don't make for warm beds. maybe it's the kind they'd made, too, back in ravka. it's not uncommon in poverty, either. women bought like cattle made to tolerate men who work them like donkeys. ]
I rather like waking up to you. Just you.
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That's fortunate for me, because I'd like to do that more often.
[ As often as she'd permit.
This is not his room. His welcome here feels tenuous, conditional.
He tightens his hold on her, drawing her into him. Closes his eyes for a moment as they settle together. ]