Drawn and quartering. A horrible beheading. Having to listen to Tolya's poetry for twenty-four hours straight.
[ Anahid may not know Tolya well enough to know that being subjected to his poetry is the worst of the bunch. Perhaps he'll let her discover that on her own.
Following a bend, Nikolai makes no effort to hurry. The library's close by. The wind whips at the grates and there's loud noise as voices argue beyond one of the walls. He doesn't stop to press his ear against the stone, not like how he would when wishing to take a few moments to simply be Nikolai without his titles. ]
Only one is a punishment I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, and the other two make for fun party entertainment.
You'll understand if I avoid his Majesty's parties, I find poetry dreadfully dull and can't abide blood on the rugs.
[ As more light shines in from outside, the library comes within reach. The musty smell of the half-abandoned passage changes to much more academic scents — paper halfway to ancient, leather bindings, and sandalwood. A few more steps and they'll be able to exit through a lightly wrought shelf, purposefully filled with periodicals and reference pamphlets rather than heavy books, and emerge mere feet away from the archivist's office.
Although she doesn't plan on it, Anahid finds herself slowing down. Nikolai will feel a tug at his hand as her altered pace pulls her arm taut. ]
Perhaps, um —
[ A breath, and then: ]
Perhaps I ought to just let this go.
[ A bit more sober now, and closer to the point of no return, she finds her courage wavering a bit. Does she really want to potentially make an enemy when she has at least six more weeks in Ravka? ]
[ Nikolai eventually stops and turns to face her. ]
You're welcome to let it go.
[ And she can if she wants to. Nikolai remembers that uncertainty in the face of seeing someone reprimanded for doing the wrong thing. One never knew how the cards would fall. He knows better than anyone that despite his status as a prince, his behaviour often overshadowed the little crown he wore on his head. It's taken some time for him to outgrow his fear of the wind blowing in the wrong direction.
But he's not a young prince anymore, scolded for his adventure and alleged misbehaving. He's the King of Ravka. He can set the rules. ]
But I won't. I don't tolerate such things. [ He shakes his head. ] Not in my country, and certainly not in my home. We can take the next exit that isn't to the library if you prefer, but I'll be having a word with Radomir about what makes hands unsullied in Os Alta.
[ In the face of his certainty, her heart starts to beat a little strangely. Not any faster; merely with a different tempo, a bit higher up toward her throat. It's a wonder that he can hold her hand and not feel it in her pulse. ]
... alright.
[ At the very least, if she sees the conversation, then she'll know what words to use next time. So Nikolai doesn't have to fight another battle on her behalf. ]
Thank you, N— [ They're not in a balloon anymore, miles above any prying ears, so the intended word fades away after a single clicked out syllable. Even in a half-abandoned corridor, it feels wrong somehow. Maybe sullied hands is still bouncing around in her head. ] — Your Majesty.
[ Perhaps she'll find his name less difficult to say aloud one day, but he doesn't press it.
Instead, he leads them a little further along the corridor to a wooden door. He's slow to open it with his free hand, the hinges creaking as he does so. The library is brighter than the secret passageway, and perhaps sunnier than any other room in the Grand Palace. It used to be his favourite place to get lost in, until he realised the stories were his preferred escape.
The door opens to an aisle in the back of the large library. The spines are of various sizes, heights and colours; no cobwebs hang on the shelves, not even from the top of the highest corner. He leads her down a long aisle, and when they near the end, he lets her hand fall away like a feather. It's for her sake more than for his. Even though Radomir is the only person most likely to be in the library, he doesn't wish to risk those whispers being woven into thicker rumours.
The less he gives him, the better.
He leads them to the archivist's office. The door's open, ensuring he has one less task ahead of him. Radomir's a tall man with long, skeletal fingers and a neatly trimmed beard. Radomir's studying a thick book with bent corners; he lifts his head, thick brows raised, and that painfully fake smile in place. He's never liked Nikolai, much preferring Vasily and his lack of care. ]
Moi tsar. [ Radomir bows his head before lifting his dark, studious eyes back up. The smile that would fool anyone else tenses when his eyes dart to see Anahid. ]
I hear you turned away some of our guests. [ Nikolai clasps his hands before him and furrows his brows to appear confused. ] I didn't realise the library was closed. I thought I would have received a missive of the sort.
[ Radomir doesn't look overly anxious, but the tension in his shoulders is present and sharp. His gaze darts back to Anahid. ]
Excuse my manners. This is Anahid Joddani. [ He turns to her with a smile. ] A guest. [ He looks back at Radomir. ] One very welcomed by all of Ravka. She has very nice hands, don't you think?
[ Standing in Radomir's imposing presence, Anahid is suddenly very aware of the layer of dried mud still coating the hem of her dress and that she's very noticeably still wearing the king's coat. Judging from the way Radomir's eyes sweep over her, he notices these things too. She draws herself up regardless, refusing to be so cowed. ]
I regret that we were unable to be properly introduced earlier, sir. The care you put into curating the library is admirable.
[ It's a bit of a dance, this showing of guileless etiquette. Fortunately, it's one Anahid can do at the drop of a hat.
Radomir isn't impressed, though. His lip curls with barely concealed distaste at her accented Ravkan. He manages a curt nod and nothing more, swinging his gaze to Nikolai and speaking in flawless Zemeni. ]
May I have a word with you, moi Tsar? [ With all the subtlety of a million zebras crashing in through the ceiling, his darkened gaze briefly skims over Anahid's head. ] In private?
[ In the face of all this, Anahid finds herself wishing for the return of Mikhail and his warm, welcoming manner. Mikhail should run the library. Mikhail should be crowned queen of Ravka. Mikhail should be given every promotion, she thinks, for the simple act of human decency of not looking at her like she's a squashed bug caught under heel. ]
[ Nikolai smiles, but it's not the smile he's worn during most of his interactions with Anahid. It's sharp, not quite as soft in its curve. This is King Nikolai. Nikolai Nothing, as Vasily would say. ]
We're having a word now. And anything we speak of, we can speak in front of our guest. I wouldn't wish to be rude.
[ He wrinkles his nose slightly, but Nikolai stares at Radomir for a moment before he shakes his head and feigns boyish ignorance. Best not to give him too much of an opportunity to plead a decent case for privacy. Nikolai is nothing if not an energetic, talkative tornado; he embraces that characterisation of himself now. ]
Forgive me, since I haven't come to the library as often as I'd like. But our library is open to the public, isn't it?
[ Radomir, for all of his experience in politics, isn't quite skilled in softening his expression. He's so used to sitting behind a king and king-to-be who would shield him from such embarrassments. Nikolai imagines this could have repercussions for him later down the line, but Radomir is a man with some sway over a few of the nobles and other high positioned staff. Nikolai's a Lantsov, and a likeable one at that. ]
It is.
That means it's open to Ravkans, Kerch, and Suli alike, doesn't it?
[ Radomir's smile is as sharp as one of Tolya's blades. His eyes dart toward Anahid, but ever so quickly. Nikolai would've missed it if he blinked. ]
It is.
Oh, good. [ Nikolai smiles widely then, but it still isn't the casual, easy bright smile he's worn today. He almost bounces on the balls of his feet. ] Then that means Anahid and her friend are welcome into the library at any time. I was a bit concerned, since I had heard otherwise.
[ Radomir glances at Anahid before he looks back at Nikolai. The tension still lines his mouth and shoulders, his jaw works hard like he's trying to break all his teeth. ]
You are correct.
Excellent. [ He turns briefly to Anahid before facing Radomir again. ] I'm glad they'll be able to enjoy the library. You'll make sure they're taken care of, won't you? They're very esteemed guests.
[ He knows he's pushing it. Perhaps he could've taken a better approach, maybe left Anahid out of it all… but it feels good to embarrass someone like Radomir, who used to speak down to him when he was a lanky boy who wouldn't stop growing and sneaking into the library to get lost in a life more wonderful than his.
But he's the fucking king, and he can do as he likes. ]
[ Despite Radomir's attempt to exclude her from the conversation by switching to a language she doesn't speak a word of, Nikolai's steadfast Ravkan means she can follow well enough; although the redundancies trip her up a bit. It takes some lightning-quick mental translation to realise they're purposeful. Nikolai means to drive his point home with a spike. At his side, she does her best to remain silent and severe. Her eyes drill, barely blinking, into a point just above Radomir's eyebrows.
Doubtless this will only fan the flames of speculation about their relationship. Anahid doesn't know enough yet to be cognisant of that. She's still viewing Ravka's relative social liberty through rose-tinted glass.
When Radomir turns his gaze toward her, she fixes her shoulders into a stalwart arc. Expecting a fight, possibly. ]
Is there anything I can assist you with presently, madam?
Azata. [ Her correction is quick and clipped. ] I'd quite like some references for the Kerch language, if you could fetch them. [ And for Siyon - ] And a biography on Sankta Grigori. Thank you.
[ Radomir pauses for a moment, eyes sliding back to Nikolai.
[ Backing away with half a bow, Radomir disappears into the stacks surrounding his office; and Anahid's severity melts into a grin that she directs at Nikolai. ]
He may well perform an operatic solo at your next state dinner if you press him any further.
[ Radomir returns promptly with an armful of books. Anahid gives them a cursory inspection. ]
This is a book of Kerch poetry? I won't be needing that. You may put it back. A book on star movements instead, please.
[ A blue vein beats mightily at Radomir's temple, long fingers digging just so into the spine of the rejected book of verses. He might have been leading into a sigh, but all he says is, ] Of course... Azata. [ The foreign honourific is all but choked out.
He vanishes again, and Anahid's lips twitch with suppressed laughter. ]
How long do you think I can keep this up?
[ She is still slightly drunk, after all. Nikolai might want to be the adult now. ]
[ Nikolai steps forward and helps himself to a neat pile of books at the top corner of Radomir's desk. Picking up the first one, he turns it over before declaring it uninteresting and replaces it with the second one. It's a book about mechanical engineering; its hardcover is a deep red that looks almost brown, and the corners of the book are worn and bent. ]
But you might not wish to push him any further. Radomir has quite the bite when he finds he has the upper hand. [ He looks at her, smile lopsided. ] And he'll gain the upper hand. He's slippery like that.
[ Radomir returns, his expression pinched and aggravated, but he does his best to perform as a servant of the crown—and one happy to do so. He returns with a thin book the size of Nikolai's forearm and another book as thick as his leg and as small as his palm. ]
Your books… Azata.
[ Radomir holds them out for her to take and inspect. Nikolai keeps his book in his hand as he peers and inspects the titles. ]
Ah. The small one has pretty pictures. I remember that one.
[ Radomir's smile is a grimace. It's clear he's not quite fond of Nikolai the Just. ]
Thank you, Radomir. [ And I address you by name because I am your social superior. ] We won't take up any more of your time. If you will excuse us.
[ Cooler heads, not swimming with drink, have clearly prevailed. With no less than five books of varying size and weight in her arms, she exits the office - unhurried, the pace of a woman who is both unafraid and knows wherever she goes next waits at her leisure.
Hopefully Nikolai catches up. The library is quite vast and Anahid has no idea where any of the exits are. ]
[ As Anahid leaves, Nikolai lingers. He has no desire to speak to Radomir. Even if he wanted to, it's more fun to upset than to appease him. The vein at his temple is pulsing.
With a pleased grin, Nikolai all but bows as he leaves the office, his one book in hand. It's easy to catch up to Anahid and steer her gently by the elbow to the left. They're not going out the way they came in.
He leads her down a long corridor. At the end is a large door with a fancy golden handle.
[ She opens her mouth to demur; and thinks better of it at the last second. Maybe it's the look on his face. Maybe it's the fact that her arms were beginning to get tired already and she'd only been carrying the books for a couple of minutes. Whatever the reason, they're handed to him. ]
Surely you've reached your quota on chivalry for the day.
[ Nikolai nods toward the door they approach. Somehow, he manages to balance six books (some quite heavy, Saints) and open the heavy door, cocking his head to the side as an invitation for her to step out before him.
He lets it slam behind them, echoing along the corridor as he leads them right. ]
All other doors will need to be opened by you. [ He shrugs, grinning. ] I'm out of chivalry. I don't even have any to spare. [ Without much of a breath: ] Why stars?
[ With Tehroun, and keep them both out of her hair for a night.
As they walk down the corridor, Anahid smiles politely a couple passing by in the opposite direction. Their glances in reply are curiously quizzical; she chalks it up to the same sort of unfriendliness that Radomir had so wilfully exhibited.
The next door, she opens herself, and gestures for him to step out ahead of her. It's quite a bit darker out now than it had been when they were finishing up their dinner. The moon hangs low and bright, overpowering what little candlelight shines out from glossy windows, and Anahid finds herself noticing that his eyes are even brighter now.
Which is a totally normal thing for one friend to notice about another, of course. ]
Who is a completely kind man, if a little intense at times. Nikolai's not quite sure what to make of him other than he's the sort that probably takes things said a little too literally and has very little time for games.
Perhaps that's why he likes Anahid's company best. She encourages his mischief more than he thinks her husband would. He seems so serious, so literal.
Now outside, Nikolai finds his sight hasn't changed one bit. He doesn't think about why he can see through the darkness as though Alina Starkov stands beside him, brightening the world around them. ]
How is he finding Os Alta? And you can be honest. It can be a dreadful place at times.
Edited (needed to nikolaify it) 2023-10-09 23:22 (UTC)
He's uninterested in anything beyond your Materialki's — [ a quick glance his way; is she saying that right? ] — laboratories. And he finds the food too spicy.
[ She doesn't mean to sound so bitingly bored.
It's just quite hard to avoid, with him. ]
If you have any recommendations on what might interest him, I'd be pleased to pass it along.
[ If David talks. Nikolai thinks about the whole scenario fondly. The only person David talks to, as in willingly engages with, is Genya Safin. He thinks he should invite her along to watch how Joddani and David get along. ]
If he's anything like David, spending time with David is my only recommendation. He's our best. Dry as dirt, but exceptionally brilliant and quietly witty.
[ And someone Nikolai's fond of, even if he often stares at him, unamused by Nikolai's antics, never quite laughing at his incredible jokes. ]
I think you'd enjoy spending time with Genya, if you haven't already crossed paths with her.
I think Lady Safin has her hands full trying to administer twenty extra bodies in the Little Palace.
[ It isn't like the alchemists add anything in terms of martial expertise, so Nikolai's general hadn't been especially interested. Anahid hasn't hosted twenty visitors, no; but she has hosted Siyon, which was stressful in and of itself.
A sidelong glance for Nikolai. Are you so eager to foist me off on one of your generals? It's a silly thought, and a sillier question. He's the king. He's busy. And she's no one. ]
I'll see if she wants to take tea. [ A breath, and a smile. ] It was nice having someone to spend the day with, today. I hope you gained somewhat from it.
A muddied backside. [ He twists to look down at his muddied, now dried, pants. ] One can never have a good day if left clean.
[ The Little Palace is lit softly as they approach. Perhaps he should ask David to consider creating a path with soft lights to connect the Grand Palace and the Little Palace, but that often leaves the Inferni upset they can't use their flames to light the way and impress those around them. Sometimes, it's hard being king. It's impossible to juggle everyone's happiness.
But he thinks he managed to give Anahid a nice day, perhaps one she'll talk about and describe as "utterly exhausting, but at least the King of Ravka is an excellent conversationalist and an even better joker". ]
Feel free to tell your friend Siyon about the balloon. [ With a smile, he furrows his brows together as he jokes, ] I have a feeling someone like him would be jealous of you.
I'm sure his response to my boasting will be heard all the way in the grand palace.
[ Yes, she absolutely will drag her bestie out of bed to talk about her hours-long not-a-date with the king. At the step of the little palace, she lingers for a moment; it's hard not to be very aware how the distant candlelight flickers across his skin.
She reaches out to take her borrowed books from him. ]
[ Just in case she happens to remember it one of these days.
He lets her take those books, although he keeps his on mechanical engineering. Flicking his wrist as he holds it, he takes a step back and glances up at the Little Palace.
He should turn around and walk away. It's a very simple action. Yet, he lingers. ]
Enjoy the books. [ He takes a step back and then another… ] Oh, I look forward to hearing your Kerch. I bet you'll be better than me.
[ And then he turns around, head held high, stupid smile on his face, as he walks back to the nicely lit Grand Palace to be chained to his bed.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ Anahid may not know Tolya well enough to know that being subjected to his poetry is the worst of the bunch. Perhaps he'll let her discover that on her own.
Following a bend, Nikolai makes no effort to hurry. The library's close by. The wind whips at the grates and there's loud noise as voices argue beyond one of the walls. He doesn't stop to press his ear against the stone, not like how he would when wishing to take a few moments to simply be Nikolai without his titles. ]
Only one is a punishment I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, and the other two make for fun party entertainment.
no subject
[ As more light shines in from outside, the library comes within reach. The musty smell of the half-abandoned passage changes to much more academic scents — paper halfway to ancient, leather bindings, and sandalwood. A few more steps and they'll be able to exit through a lightly wrought shelf, purposefully filled with periodicals and reference pamphlets rather than heavy books, and emerge mere feet away from the archivist's office.
Although she doesn't plan on it, Anahid finds herself slowing down. Nikolai will feel a tug at his hand as her altered pace pulls her arm taut. ]
Perhaps, um —
[ A breath, and then: ]
Perhaps I ought to just let this go.
[ A bit more sober now, and closer to the point of no return, she finds her courage wavering a bit. Does she really want to potentially make an enemy when she has at least six more weeks in Ravka? ]
no subject
You're welcome to let it go.
[ And she can if she wants to. Nikolai remembers that uncertainty in the face of seeing someone reprimanded for doing the wrong thing. One never knew how the cards would fall. He knows better than anyone that despite his status as a prince, his behaviour often overshadowed the little crown he wore on his head. It's taken some time for him to outgrow his fear of the wind blowing in the wrong direction.
But he's not a young prince anymore, scolded for his adventure and alleged misbehaving. He's the King of Ravka. He can set the rules. ]
But I won't. I don't tolerate such things. [ He shakes his head. ] Not in my country, and certainly not in my home. We can take the next exit that isn't to the library if you prefer, but I'll be having a word with Radomir about what makes hands unsullied in Os Alta.
no subject
... alright.
[ At the very least, if she sees the conversation, then she'll know what words to use next time. So Nikolai doesn't have to fight another battle on her behalf. ]
Thank you, N— [ They're not in a balloon anymore, miles above any prying ears, so the intended word fades away after a single clicked out syllable. Even in a half-abandoned corridor, it feels wrong somehow. Maybe sullied hands is still bouncing around in her head. ] — Your Majesty.
[ Her fingers still cling to his. ]
no subject
Instead, he leads them a little further along the corridor to a wooden door. He's slow to open it with his free hand, the hinges creaking as he does so. The library is brighter than the secret passageway, and perhaps sunnier than any other room in the Grand Palace. It used to be his favourite place to get lost in, until he realised the stories were his preferred escape.
The door opens to an aisle in the back of the large library. The spines are of various sizes, heights and colours; no cobwebs hang on the shelves, not even from the top of the highest corner. He leads her down a long aisle, and when they near the end, he lets her hand fall away like a feather. It's for her sake more than for his. Even though Radomir is the only person most likely to be in the library, he doesn't wish to risk those whispers being woven into thicker rumours.
The less he gives him, the better.
He leads them to the archivist's office. The door's open, ensuring he has one less task ahead of him. Radomir's a tall man with long, skeletal fingers and a neatly trimmed beard. Radomir's studying a thick book with bent corners; he lifts his head, thick brows raised, and that painfully fake smile in place. He's never liked Nikolai, much preferring Vasily and his lack of care. ]
Moi tsar. [ Radomir bows his head before lifting his dark, studious eyes back up. The smile that would fool anyone else tenses when his eyes dart to see Anahid. ]
I hear you turned away some of our guests. [ Nikolai clasps his hands before him and furrows his brows to appear confused. ] I didn't realise the library was closed. I thought I would have received a missive of the sort.
[ Radomir doesn't look overly anxious, but the tension in his shoulders is present and sharp. His gaze darts back to Anahid. ]
Excuse my manners. This is Anahid Joddani. [ He turns to her with a smile. ] A guest. [ He looks back at Radomir. ] One very welcomed by all of Ravka. She has very nice hands, don't you think?
no subject
I regret that we were unable to be properly introduced earlier, sir. The care you put into curating the library is admirable.
[ It's a bit of a dance, this showing of guileless etiquette. Fortunately, it's one Anahid can do at the drop of a hat.
Radomir isn't impressed, though. His lip curls with barely concealed distaste at her accented Ravkan. He manages a curt nod and nothing more, swinging his gaze to Nikolai and speaking in flawless Zemeni. ]
May I have a word with you, moi Tsar? [ With all the subtlety of a million zebras crashing in through the ceiling, his darkened gaze briefly skims over Anahid's head. ] In private?
[ In the face of all this, Anahid finds herself wishing for the return of Mikhail and his warm, welcoming manner. Mikhail should run the library. Mikhail should be crowned queen of Ravka. Mikhail should be given every promotion, she thinks, for the simple act of human decency of not looking at her like she's a squashed bug caught under heel. ]
no subject
We're having a word now. And anything we speak of, we can speak in front of our guest. I wouldn't wish to be rude.
[ He wrinkles his nose slightly, but Nikolai stares at Radomir for a moment before he shakes his head and feigns boyish ignorance. Best not to give him too much of an opportunity to plead a decent case for privacy. Nikolai is nothing if not an energetic, talkative tornado; he embraces that characterisation of himself now. ]
Forgive me, since I haven't come to the library as often as I'd like. But our library is open to the public, isn't it?
[ Radomir, for all of his experience in politics, isn't quite skilled in softening his expression. He's so used to sitting behind a king and king-to-be who would shield him from such embarrassments. Nikolai imagines this could have repercussions for him later down the line, but Radomir is a man with some sway over a few of the nobles and other high positioned staff. Nikolai's a Lantsov, and a likeable one at that. ]
It is.
That means it's open to Ravkans, Kerch, and Suli alike, doesn't it?
[ Radomir's smile is as sharp as one of Tolya's blades. His eyes dart toward Anahid, but ever so quickly. Nikolai would've missed it if he blinked. ]
It is.
Oh, good. [ Nikolai smiles widely then, but it still isn't the casual, easy bright smile he's worn today. He almost bounces on the balls of his feet. ] Then that means Anahid and her friend are welcome into the library at any time. I was a bit concerned, since I had heard otherwise.
[ Radomir glances at Anahid before he looks back at Nikolai. The tension still lines his mouth and shoulders, his jaw works hard like he's trying to break all his teeth. ]
You are correct.
Excellent. [ He turns briefly to Anahid before facing Radomir again. ] I'm glad they'll be able to enjoy the library. You'll make sure they're taken care of, won't you? They're very esteemed guests.
[ He knows he's pushing it. Perhaps he could've taken a better approach, maybe left Anahid out of it all… but it feels good to embarrass someone like Radomir, who used to speak down to him when he was a lanky boy who wouldn't stop growing and sneaking into the library to get lost in a life more wonderful than his.
But he's the fucking king, and he can do as he likes. ]
1/2
Doubtless this will only fan the flames of speculation about their relationship. Anahid doesn't know enough yet to be cognisant of that. She's still viewing Ravka's relative social liberty through rose-tinted glass.
When Radomir turns his gaze toward her, she fixes her shoulders into a stalwart arc. Expecting a fight, possibly. ]
Is there anything I can assist you with presently, madam?
Azata. [ Her correction is quick and clipped. ] I'd quite like some references for the Kerch language, if you could fetch them. [ And for Siyon - ] And a biography on Sankta Grigori. Thank you.
[ Radomir pauses for a moment, eyes sliding back to Nikolai.
Anahid doesn't give him the opportunity. ]
Now, please.
no subject
He may well perform an operatic solo at your next state dinner if you press him any further.
[ Radomir returns promptly with an armful of books. Anahid gives them a cursory inspection. ]
This is a book of Kerch poetry? I won't be needing that. You may put it back. A book on star movements instead, please.
[ A blue vein beats mightily at Radomir's temple, long fingers digging just so into the spine of the rejected book of verses. He might have been leading into a sigh, but all he says is, ] Of course... Azata. [ The foreign honourific is all but choked out.
He vanishes again, and Anahid's lips twitch with suppressed laughter. ]
How long do you think I can keep this up?
[ She is still slightly drunk, after all. Nikolai might want to be the adult now. ]
no subject
[ Nikolai steps forward and helps himself to a neat pile of books at the top corner of Radomir's desk. Picking up the first one, he turns it over before declaring it uninteresting and replaces it with the second one. It's a book about mechanical engineering; its hardcover is a deep red that looks almost brown, and the corners of the book are worn and bent. ]
But you might not wish to push him any further. Radomir has quite the bite when he finds he has the upper hand. [ He looks at her, smile lopsided. ] And he'll gain the upper hand. He's slippery like that.
[ Radomir returns, his expression pinched and aggravated, but he does his best to perform as a servant of the crown—and one happy to do so. He returns with a thin book the size of Nikolai's forearm and another book as thick as his leg and as small as his palm. ]
Your books… Azata.
[ Radomir holds them out for her to take and inspect. Nikolai keeps his book in his hand as he peers and inspects the titles. ]
Ah. The small one has pretty pictures. I remember that one.
[ Radomir's smile is a grimace. It's clear he's not quite fond of Nikolai the Just. ]
no subject
[ Cooler heads, not swimming with drink, have clearly prevailed. With no less than five books of varying size and weight in her arms, she exits the office - unhurried, the pace of a woman who is both unafraid and knows wherever she goes next waits at her leisure.
Hopefully Nikolai catches up. The library is quite vast and Anahid has no idea where any of the exits are. ]
no subject
With a pleased grin, Nikolai all but bows as he leaves the office, his one book in hand. It's easy to catch up to Anahid and steer her gently by the elbow to the left. They're not going out the way they came in.
He leads her down a long corridor. At the end is a large door with a fancy golden handle.
He holds out his hand for the books. ] Azata.
no subject
Surely you've reached your quota on chivalry for the day.
no subject
[ Nikolai nods toward the door they approach. Somehow, he manages to balance six books (some quite heavy, Saints) and open the heavy door, cocking his head to the side as an invitation for her to step out before him.
He lets it slam behind them, echoing along the corridor as he leads them right. ]
All other doors will need to be opened by you. [ He shrugs, grinning. ] I'm out of chivalry. I don't even have any to spare. [ Without much of a breath: ] Why stars?
no subject
[ With Tehroun, and keep them both out of her hair for a night.
As they walk down the corridor, Anahid smiles politely a couple passing by in the opposite direction. Their glances in reply are curiously quizzical; she chalks it up to the same sort of unfriendliness that Radomir had so wilfully exhibited.
The next door, she opens herself, and gestures for him to step out ahead of her. It's quite a bit darker out now than it had been when they were finishing up their dinner. The moon hangs low and bright, overpowering what little candlelight shines out from glossy windows, and Anahid finds herself noticing that his eyes are even brighter now.
Which is a totally normal thing for one friend to notice about another, of course. ]
no subject
Who is a completely kind man, if a little intense at times. Nikolai's not quite sure what to make of him other than he's the sort that probably takes things said a little too literally and has very little time for games.
Perhaps that's why he likes Anahid's company best. She encourages his mischief more than he thinks her husband would. He seems so serious, so literal.
Now outside, Nikolai finds his sight hasn't changed one bit. He doesn't think about why he can see through the darkness as though Alina Starkov stands beside him, brightening the world around them. ]
How is he finding Os Alta? And you can be honest. It can be a dreadful place at times.
no subject
[ She doesn't mean to sound so bitingly bored.
It's just quite hard to avoid, with him. ]
If you have any recommendations on what might interest him, I'd be pleased to pass it along.
no subject
[ If David talks. Nikolai thinks about the whole scenario fondly. The only person David talks to, as in willingly engages with, is Genya Safin. He thinks he should invite her along to watch how Joddani and David get along. ]
If he's anything like David, spending time with David is my only recommendation. He's our best. Dry as dirt, but exceptionally brilliant and quietly witty.
[ And someone Nikolai's fond of, even if he often stares at him, unamused by Nikolai's antics, never quite laughing at his incredible jokes. ]
I think you'd enjoy spending time with Genya, if you haven't already crossed paths with her.
no subject
[ It isn't like the alchemists add anything in terms of martial expertise, so Nikolai's general hadn't been especially interested. Anahid hasn't hosted twenty visitors, no; but she has hosted Siyon, which was stressful in and of itself.
A sidelong glance for Nikolai. Are you so eager to foist me off on one of your generals? It's a silly thought, and a sillier question. He's the king. He's busy. And she's no one. ]
I'll see if she wants to take tea. [ A breath, and a smile. ] It was nice having someone to spend the day with, today. I hope you gained somewhat from it.
no subject
[ The Little Palace is lit softly as they approach. Perhaps he should ask David to consider creating a path with soft lights to connect the Grand Palace and the Little Palace, but that often leaves the Inferni upset they can't use their flames to light the way and impress those around them. Sometimes, it's hard being king. It's impossible to juggle everyone's happiness.
But he thinks he managed to give Anahid a nice day, perhaps one she'll talk about and describe as "utterly exhausting, but at least the King of Ravka is an excellent conversationalist and an even better joker". ]
Feel free to tell your friend Siyon about the balloon. [ With a smile, he furrows his brows together as he jokes, ] I have a feeling someone like him would be jealous of you.
no subject
[ Yes, she absolutely will drag her bestie out of bed to talk about her hours-long not-a-date with the king. At the step of the little palace, she lingers for a moment; it's hard not to be very aware how the distant candlelight flickers across his skin.
She reaches out to take her borrowed books from him. ]
Good night, your Majesty.
no subject
[ Just in case she happens to remember it one of these days.
He lets her take those books, although he keeps his on mechanical engineering. Flicking his wrist as he holds it, he takes a step back and glances up at the Little Palace.
He should turn around and walk away. It's a very simple action. Yet, he lingers. ]
Enjoy the books. [ He takes a step back and then another… ] Oh, I look forward to hearing your Kerch. I bet you'll be better than me.
[ And then he turns around, head held high, stupid smile on his face, as he walks back to the nicely lit Grand Palace to be chained to his bed.
Seriously, this shit is a fairytale. ]