"Would you sit still for Saint's sake!"
"I am trying, I'll have you know. But the trouble is, this is incredibly painful. And I've never been particularly good at sitting still besides."
"Oh, be quiet, I'm the one doing all the work. All you have to do is stop moving. Here I am with only a dull pair of scissors and a rusted ship's surgeon's kit trying to take your stitches out."
"And you're doing wonderfully, but might I suggest not requesting the impossible of me?" His words were a little bit slurred and at a higher pitch than usual, probably due to the fact that their bottle of alcohol was already more than half empty.
"Improbable. Not impossible according to you. Just shut up and drink some more kvas," she instructed, pushing the bottle back toward him. He lifted it with his free arm and took a long swig.
He nearly spat it out when he'd finished, pushing it away from him and nearly spilling the rest of the bottle.
"Saints I hate that stuff," he gagged.
"I do too," she replied, distracted. "Just not for the same reasons."
Nikolai cringed a bit. He'd been told the story of her brother, and although it was irrational, he still felt responsible for it. It may have happened years before he was even born, but how many families had been torn apart by the war? How many brothers and sisters and mothers and fathers had been sacrificed before he'd managed to end the bloodshed? It might not been his fault entirely, but as Ravka's king, he recognized that its history belonged to him just as much his own did.
"That's right," he replied, morose. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. It's not in any way your fault. Just sit still before I have to knock you out."
"Are you having any?" He asked, feeling slightly groggy from drinking.
"No. It's hard enough doing this without being drunk."
"I've heard it helps in steadying the hand," he replied.
"It might, but I'm almost done, and I'm not willing to risk a hangover for you Lantsov." She gritted her teeth, taking out the last few stitches with a pair of thin pliers.
"Risking death, but not a hangover? Sounds to me like you need to sort out your priorities," Nikolai replied slowly.
"I have. Keep you not dead, get back to Ravka, and then keep you not dead. It would work much more easily if you weren't so intent on dying," she joked, cleaning off her tools with boiled salt water.
"So when we get back to Ravka, your priorities will revolve solely on me then? Very appropriate. I approve," Nikolai affirmed, moving to the far end of the deck where there were furs out so he wouldn't have to lean against the ice.
"If we make it to Ravka. We still have nearly a whole day's journey. And I feel like a storm is coming," Nataliya warned, casting a weary glance to the sky.
"Been there, lived through that. And that was without the most gifted Etherealki in the world," he boasted lazily, leaning back and taking a look at his arm.
Finishing with the tools, Nataliya didn't reply, instead putting them carefully away and returning to Nikolai's side with the bottle of kvas.
"This is going to hurt," she warned.
"I'll be fine," Nikolai replied confidently.
She carefully poured the kvas over where his stitches had been, and he let in a sharp breath and began cursing through clenched teeth.
"Are you still fine, highness?" She teased.
"Yes," he winced. "Just a bit less so."
"Mmm. I can see that. Just don't move for a few moments longer, and I'll get you bandaged up," she instructed.
When she'd wrapped his arm, she sat back next to him against the boat and took a swig of the remaining kvas. She made a face as she swallowed.
"Do people actually like this stuff?" She wondered aloud.
"I think they all just pretend to be dramatic," Nikolai confirmed. Out here, it was like they were the only people left in the world, which made his statement all the more believable.
"Do I get to find out what sort of drunk you are tonight?" Nikolai asked, joking.
"No. But I can tell you're the type of drunk that wants to know," she replied. It made him laugh a little bit.
"That's not completely true. I'm the fun sort of drunk apparently. My crew used to try to get me to drink with them all the time. I had to give it up after a while, when I almost died," he surmised, looking a bit dizzy.
"And how did that happen?" She asked.
"I don't think that I should tell you that," he replied, nearly giggling.
"Captain's orders. You can't just say that and then not tell the story," she complained.
"Well, if the captain wants to know, then by all means..." He paused to collect his thoughts, or perhaps to wait for the nauseous feeling to leave him, taking another swig of the remaining spirits. "Well. I was nearly a new captain. It was in my first year of privateering at least. We'd just stopped a Fjerdian vessel loaded with ammunition sailing in Ravkan waters. So, we broke out the kvas, and celebrated. And it was then that Privyet discovered my weakness," he paused for dramatic effect.
"What was it?" Nataliya asked, looking over at him.
"I can't turn down a dare. Or couldn't at least. Saints know that I've figured out how by now. But back then, they dared me to do everything. Climb up to the crow's nest in the dark when I could barely walk. Try harpooning a target from the far end of the deck. Launching silverware out of cannons. I was the champion of all the drinking games and competitions that they could think of. The absolute life of the party. And, it wasn't even that they let me win," he boasted, recalling good times.
"And why did you stop?" Nataliya questioned, smiling.
"Well I fell overboard, actually," he frowned. "Up north in the middle of winter. Sobered me up pretty quick."
She laughed outright this time.
"You mock my pain," he pouted.
"I mock you, highness. And anyone who doesn't is missing out," she grinned.
"Okay, Sankta. But I'm still a better drunk than you are right now, so you're the one that deserves mocking," he accused.
"Nikolai, I'm not drunk," Nataliya informed him once again.
"Oh. I forgot. Is it because you're the one steering the ship? Because I've done that one before too. I let the helmsman join in the fun, and we ended up almost crashing into Ketterdam."
"Yes, among other reasons. Are you sure that you're all right? You look dizzy," she asked concerned.
"Yes. I'm fine. Not fine fine, but not as not fine as I was before I wasn't fine."
"Do you know that you're not making any sense?" She asked, mostly unconcerned.
"Yes, I'm sure of it. I always make sense. Or at least it's everyone else's job to pretend that I do. I'm fine in fact. More fine than I was before I wasn't fine. Are you fine too?" He asked.
"Yes, I'm all right," she replied, trying not to laugh.
"I'm fine too," he confirmed with a nod.
"Good," she smiled.
"Yes, I am," he announced.
"I know," she replied, rolling her eyes at him.
"I know you know," he affirmed.
"Is that what you know?" She asked, playing along further.
"Ah-HA. See. Now I've got you. Persuaded into acting drunk by my intoxicated charm. One point for me," he grinned, closing his eyes and leaning back.
It was nighttime, and the light was low, as Nataliya hadn't been paying attention and had allowed the bonefish illumination to slip a bit farther.
It appeared that Nikolai was rather sleepy, and he didn't open his eyes again, though he kept talking.
"Did you ever think about how many people must have tsfil?" Ha asked randomly. Nataliya was surprised for a moment that this was what he randomly thought about.
"Not really. I don't have it, so I haven't really thought about it," she replied.
"Me neither," he rectified quickly. "It must be a whole lot though. And it'll only get worse."
"You should do something about it. You know. As king."
"Probably. I'll bring it up next time I'm in the court. They'd looooove to hear about it," he giggled. Nataliya joined him. What she'd learned of court was that it was incredibly conservative, and the thought of bringing up a plan of action against tsfil would be a bit like committing social suicide. There was a lull in conversation.
"Where did you learn to sing?" He asked, quietly, a little while later.
"I taught myself," she replied. "Why?"
"Your voice is so lovely. I've heard the Ravkan national choir. Along with pretty much all the other ones in the world. I mean, I am the king. But your voice is just so much better," he complimented, slurring his speech rather dangerously.
"Thank you, but I don't think you're really an impartial judge," she replied.
"I'm don't even need to pretend to be. I am, in case you forgot, the King of Ravka, so my opinion usually counts anyway. You should come back to Os Alta to join the choir."
"Nikolai, I'm not going back to the capitol just to join the choir," Nataliya explained.
"No? I need all of the special singers that I can get. I can even offer you a job as choir director if you like. I can do that. I'm the King," he reminded.
"'Special singers'? Shut up and go to sleep, Nikolai, before you offer me a job as a special dancer too," Nataliya teased.
"I didn't know that was an option. I'll keep it in mind," he joked. She rolled her eyes again.
Silence took over on the ship for a few minutes before Nikolai spoke again.
"Nataliya?" He asked quietly, half asleep.
"Hmm?"
"Will you sing me a song? I like to fall asleep to your singing," Nikolai requested softly. It wasn't something he'd've asked normally, but she found it endearing.
"Of course," she replied.
"He who was born from the sea, he fell in love forever, with a white mast on the road ahead, the stars above to make his bed..."
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SO yeah, here's a bit a few more chapters until they make landfall I think. the lat line is a little bit of a real Russin sailor's tne, but then I had to add a bit on the end because I closed the translation and was too lazy to find it again. Oops. Thaks for reading and reviewing! See you soon! xx
