Hi! So I finally had the chance to write something OTHER than my NaNo novel (I won by writing 15,000 words somehow on the last day. I still don't know how I was able to.)
It's supposed to take place after Behemoth but before Goliath during the two weeks when they're just traveling across Russia on the Leviathan, and it's a little out of canon, especially from Alek's perspective, but I really really wanted to write it.
Enjoy! And reviews would be fantastically lovely!
He slides into his usual seat in the middies' mess. Dylan gives him a sleepy nod and goes back to picking at his potatoes.
Alek fiddles with the cream and sugar, but he's not paying attention and without even realizing it, he pours salt into his coffee.
His mind's in another place entirely and he doesn't even notice Dylan's disgusted glances at his mug, though he does notice Dylan.
But that's the problem isn't it? And God's wounds, what a problem it is.
Because it's not right for a boy, especially one who will be an emperor someday, to have feelings like this for his friend. Stirring, nasty, embarrassing feelings that turn his mind into a nervous frenzy whenever Dylan's around and wake him up in the night, face blushing red in the darkness from dreams he feels ashamed of come morning.
Gottverdammt, this is bad, very, very bad.
He'll have to hide how he feels, bury it down in the same place where he buries his apprehension about taking the throne and his grief about his parents.
No one could ever know. Volger certainly wouldn't be happy. With Alek's commoner lineage, it would be struggle enough to take the throne. The fact that he was interested in boys, not girls, would only make it worse.
Well not boys. A boy, one singular, marvelous boy. God's wounds, Dylan probably wouldn't even be interested in him, much less able to fall in love with him. He remembers with a sinking feeling Dylan's fling with Lilit in Istanbul. Inwardly, Alek groans.
Dummkopf.
And so he sips his salted coffee and laughs politely at Newkirk's terrible jokes even though inside him, his mind is a muddled mess and his heart is a broken, bruised thing.
But no one must know.
Deryn watches as Alek slips into the seat across from her at the breakfast table.
He looks barking awful, his eyes ringed with dark circles, his hair mussed and sticking up in all directions, making her want to reach across the table and fix it for him.
She doesn't, of course, because to him she's Dylan, not Deryn. Dylan can't fix his friend's hair. Dylan can't meet Alek's eyes, at least not in the way that she wants to.
And Dylan can never have Alek's love.
Deryn sighs, returning back to attacking her potatoes. Blisters, but Alek must be tired, because the Dummkopf has just emptied half the salt shaker into his coffee and is sipping it with a glazed, faraway look in his eye.
She gags and pulls a face, trying to get his attention, but he doesn't respond.
It would all be so much barking easier if she could just tell him. True, he'd be upset at first, but it would fade as he stopped sulking and she wouldn't have to be a liar to her best friend any longer.
Though of course, she muses, best friends don't normally want to kiss their best friends.
She puts a forkful of eggs in her mouth, chewing slowly while trying to imagine what telling Alek her other secret would be like, the secret that makes her act like a ninny and go half mad with jealousy. Would things become awful and broken between them, two pieces of a puzzle that had once fit together perfectly, but were now bent out of shape, unrecognizable and broken beyond all repair?
Deryn shudders. It's a possibility too awful to comprehend.
No, no one must ever know.
Review please?
