There's something…off about the new boy, but he can't quite put his finger on it. He's got all these odd mannerisms, always so sodding polite and uptight. But it's not just that—the lad speaks Clanker, for crying out loud! He's practically got a nanny who follows him around and barks at him in that rough language of theirs, mustache bristling. And he doesn't understand why he would lie about where he came from—even though all that blether about living in a nearby village had been barking pathetic, to say the least.
But it goes beyond that, beyond the obvious. He has little tics and habits that, while subtle, are amplified by Dylan's suspicions about the boy.
The way his voice will sometimes squeak higher when he's nervous, or how he's constantly clutching at the fabric of his trousers. How he's always touching his ears, for no apparent reason. His face colouring whenever he meets anyone's eyes. His soft, quiet voice that rarely lifts above a mumble.
He's hiding something, this Alek, and Dylan is intent on finding out what.
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When Alek confesses that he's the son of an Austro-Hungarian nobleman—that's a mouthful, Dylan jokes—he is satisfied, because it explains Alek's posh attitude and also his babysitter, Count sneaky-beak Volger, who's always nosing around where he shouldn't be. (Because of course he has someone to constantly watch over him and make sure that his little noble bum doesn't get hurt.)
Dylan just assumes that the odd way Alek acts around him is normal for Clanker nobility.
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When they're on egg duty together for that insufferable boffin, Dylan only waits a couple minutes before unbuttoning his shirt most of the way to try to alleviate the heat. He doesn't comment on how Alek only undoes the top button of his shirt before settling back against the crates. He supposes it's too indecent for nobility like Alek to undress in the presence of commoners like him, and just shrugs before leaning back next to Alek and closing his eyes to wait out the next few hours.
And so he doesn't notice the blush flaring across Alek's face like wildfire.
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Dylan is surprised when Alek tells him he doesn't know how to throw a knife. He knows that, growing up in a barking palace or whatever, he probably didn't have that many opportunities to learn, but still. What kind of decent midshipman can't throw a knife? (And Dylan supposes that Alek is an honorary midshipman, even if he is a runaway Clanker and technically a prisoner.)
And so Dylan takes it upon himself to teach Alek the proper way to throw a rigging knife. He demonstrates a couple times, Alek wincing every time the blade thunks into the wood, before handing him the knife and instructing him on how to hold it and stand, going through the motions before he actually lets him try.
Alek stands, poised to throw, and Dylan paces around him, eyeing him skeptically. Raise your hand a wee bit, aye, like that, and stay on your toes... Standing behind him, Dylan grabs his friend's arm and lifts it higher, to eye level, before reaching for his torso, to shift his weight forward a bit—
The moment Dylan's fingers brush his sides, Alek jumps and squeaks, and then spins around to face Dylan, his cheeks brightening. I just remembered, I have to, erm, with Volger, he…wanted me to see him, and, uh, I forgot—and the rest is in hurried German. Alek's voice is pitched unnaturally high, and he looks everywhere but at Dylan. He pushes the knife towards Dylan, hands fumbling, before he squeezes out a rushed Sorry! and flees the room.
Dylan is left standing there, staring at the door, knife in his hands, utterly puzzled at his friend's erratic behavior.
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Lilit seems to really bother Alek. Dylan can't help but notice how coldly he treats her: he's always curt whenever they speak, he's rarely in the same room as her, he rarely acknowledges her presence, and is just generally a bum-rag. He doesn't understand what Alek has against her—he personally finds her to be pretty smart and resourceful, unlike some of the other girls he's met back home. He even musters up a bit of respect for her, for planning this whole revolution alongside her father.
But Alek seems dead-set on hating her and being extra moody, constantly sulking except for when he's working on some daft Clanker contraption. Each time Dylan tries to approach him about it, Alek just closes off and makes up excuses to leave, never looking him in the eye. He decides to leave him be. But he makes sure to send Bovril his way as often as he can, to try to cheer him up—he knows Alek has a soft spot for the beastie.
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After Lilit flies off on her glider, leaving them both absolutely gobsmacked, standing in the wreckage of the walkers—especially Dylan, who is still reeling from her unexpected kiss—the taller boy turns to Alek, who is glaring off in the direction Lilit went. He nudges his arm and jokes, Jealous?
Alek turns his scowl on him, cheeks colouring, before stomping off wordlessly in the direction of the injured mechanic.
Dylan laughs before glancing at the unmistakable shape of the Leviathan in the sky, and runs off to join him.
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The headline jumps out at him from the newspaper he's meant to deliver to Volger with his breakfast:
DAUGHTER OF THE ASSASSINATED ARCHDUKE FRANZ FERDINAND STILL MISSING
Dylan makes a small noise in the back of his throat, because he recognizes the name. It seems interesting, and he wants to show it to Alek, because maybe he knows about this girl, since he's a barking noble and all that blether, and Dylan doesn't know how much the barking Count shares with him anyways. He peels off the first page of the newspaper and tucks it into his jacket, before knocking briskly on said Count's door with a shout of, Oi! Breakfast!
The door opens and the two exchange a nod and few forced pleasantries, and then Dylan hands him the tray, salutes mockingly and walks off. He makes sure to drop off the paper at his cabin before leaving to complete his duties.
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That night, the newspaper flutters from fingers limp with shock and settles silently on the floor of his cabin. The door is flung open and the sound of rushed footsteps echo down the corridor.
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Dylan raps softly on the door to Alek's cabin. Alek, it's me. At the sound of, Come in, he pushes open the door to find his friend lying on the bed, Bovril sitting upright on Alek's chest. The beastie lets out an excited, Mr. Sharp! and stretches out its arms for Dylan to pick it up. He indulges it and settles the fab on his shoulder before reaching behind him to close the door, making sure to lock it.
I need to talk to you.
Alek sits up, alert, smiling, unknowing. Of course.
I know who you are.
Dylan watches as all the colour drains from his friend's face.
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Why didn't you tell me?
I—I didn't…
Don't you trust me?
I do, it's—
Were you afraid I would tell someone? Because—because you're my best friend, and I would never—
No, no, but—
Then why not? Why wouldn't you tell me? I thought—I thought I was your friend. Doesn't that count for something? For anything?
Yes, it does, I pro—
Barking spiders, Alek! I told you everything, about my da, about my ma, about me, and you couldn't even tell me this? That you're a barking—
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He's cut off by a sudden warmth against his lips, and it's soft, and it's sloppy, and it's over just as quickly as it began, and Alek is pulling away, and she's crying, and Dylan thinks that maybe he is too, and—
That's why! That's why I couldn't tell you, you dummkopf! And then she turns away, wiping her eyes, curled in on herself, and says quietly, Scheiße.
Dylan stands there for a second, frozen, and then murmurs, Blisters, Alek, I—I'm sorry. He moves closer and tentatively wraps his arms around her frame, and she collapses against him, clutching at his shirt, wracked with big, ugly sobs.
And he understands that her tears aren't just for him, but also for her murdered parents, and that her grief, which she has been bottling up for months, is finally overflowing and spilling out. And all he can do is hold her, because he knows how much it hurts to lose a parent, and wait as she lets it all out, her tears staining his collar.
From the bed comes a small voice, No more secrets. And Dylan sighs and rests his cheek against his friend's hair, tightening his hold on her.
No more secrets.
A look at what it would have been like had Alek and Deryn's genders been reversed. I decided to keep everyone else's genders the same because it would be kinda weird to have a ship full of female riggers and a female captain and stuff without drastically altering history.
Urgh, I'm sorry if some things pertaining to the events of the book are inaccurate, because for some horrible reason, I don't even own the books.
Yadda yadda yadda, Dylan is actually a dude, Alek is actually Aleksandra, daughter of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand, she's on the run and in disguise because people want to kill her, Dylan's dad is still dead, his mother is disappointed in him because she wanted him to be smart and stuff and go to university or whatever and instead he joined the Air Force like his brother, he's got some tragic backstory, blah blah blah. The whole deal. This was badly thought out.
