And in the sea that's painted black | OTA

[novokribirsk]

WHO: Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov, and yOU
WHAT: Two new rifters arrive, shenanigans ensue.
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: N/A

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[novokribirsk]

Her blue eyes narrow.

Of course she takes his meaning. His concern is as eminently practical as it is infuriating. Of course he's worried about the demon; she is too. But speaking of it feels too much, already, like giving up.

"Perhaps you should ask after suitable wall hangings, next, since you're planning on making yourself comfortable."

[rezni]

"If they could send us back the way we came, they wouldn't bother carting us all the way to Saints know where."

Which means he needs to think ahead, consider what will and won't endear them to the people they're going to need.

"But if you're so concerned about the decor, I can prevail on our escorts."

Rather than prevail on whichever individual he'll need to convince to keep his secret. He returns to anxiously flicking his fingers in the water, eels squirming away from the disturbance. They have no leverage here. There's a chance he ends up in a cell for the rest of his time in this place, but that's the gamble they'll have to take.

[novokribirsk]

"No?"

She leans forward as she answers, somewhere between insistent and imploring. Glossy curls fall over her shoulders, into her face; she brushes them away with an annoyed flick of her hand.

"Think about it. Maybe they can't send us back. Or maybe we're more valuable to them in their grasp than returned to Ravka."

[rezni]

"This hardly strikes me as a matter of hostages and ransom."

Maybe largely because he can't see anyone holding Zoya hostage for very long without regretting it very deeply.

"What do you propose?" is a genuine question, posed as Nikolai leans an elbow onto the edge of the trunk. He's seemingly unconcerned about the eels, squirming determinedly in the small space.

[novokribirsk]

It's hostages and ransom that come to mind for a golden-haired king. For a Squaller of common birth, it's the countless Grisha in captivity and hiding all over their world. Ketterdam is thick with indentures; Fjerda and Shu Han with their labs, their Grisha put to work. The Wandering Isle is hardly better, she knows from Harshaw, from experience.

(She thinks of a little girl in a gilded dress in a church.)

What she'd like to propose is to destroy this vehicle in a storm, take Nikolai and make their own way to safety. But she knows he wouldn't agree to that.

"We go and meet whoever's waiting for us," she says grudgingly. "But if we have to make an escape, I will say I told you so."

[rezni]

"And I will suffer the indignity of it honorably," Nikolai promises. It would be nice if that were the outcome. But Nikolai doubts this will be so straightforward as a kidnapping.

"My friends," he calls to the drivers, tone shifting from serious to jovial in an instant. "Advise me as to how much longer? My trunk is leaking sea water at such a rate that any delay will bode poorly for these eels."

Yes, this is the priority.

[novokribirsk]

The mumbled answer sounds something like maybe an hour.

Zoya's tone drips witheringly over her Ravkan words,

"At least you've already made friends, Your Highness." But after a pause, she continues more seriously. "Tolya and Tamar will note our absence. If they can't find us, they'll carry the news back to the Triumvirate. As will your other new friend."

Yuri, of course.

"What a relief to know Ravka's stability relies on the discretion of a delusional monk."

[rezni]

"Zoya," is a muddle of things, all rolled into her name, sighed between them. The good cheer shifts like a curtain caught in the wind, revealing the shapes of worry and frustration and fear before all is obscured again.

His worries should be Zoya's burden.

"Let us consider the benefits of making friends here. Ravka certainly isn't in a position to be turning them away."

As if this is a diplomatic visit dragging on longer than it should, not a very real chance they've been stranded and Ravka left more or less to plunge into civil war when it's realized Nikolai is missing.

[novokribirsk]

She

turns her head away, the sun illuminating her perfect profile. The flare of brightness makes it difficult to make out her expression, though she can't be pleased. Still, for a long moment, she says nothing.

If she caught any unhappiness from her king, she draws no attention to it. This isn't what their relationship is; he doesn't come to her for comfort, and she doesn't take his hand and offer reassurance. She isn't the kind of person anyone would go to for that, and with good reason.

She says, "Let's hope they like eels."