Part 2 Chapter 48

APOV

Songs: Every Single Night by Fionna Apple, Lola by The Raincoats

Tap Tap Tap

There must have been a leak somewhere in the room. Either that or it was in my head. Hard to tell.

Tap Tap

My hand against the table joined the rhythmic water droplets.

Thud

A propped book flattened onto its shelf. Funny thing. I wondered how long it had been sitting like that. Barely clinging to stand until finally the weight of it just gave in and laid it to rest. A feeling I knew well.

I fixated on that thought. Curious what the title of my book would be. Would it be thick, or thin? Would it be leather-bound, or frail material with tattered thread only just keeping the pages entwined? Regardless, the images inside would be spectacular.

Tap Tap Tap

My fingers sped up. I felt eyes on me. Eyes that weren't there.

I wanted a drink. Something to calm my thoughts. But a sip wouldn't be enough. Not anymore.

Honestly, I don't mind the drinking so much when it knocks you out and keeps you quiet. Then we're spared from hearing of your latest antics.

My father's voice.

No ambition. No initiative. No follow-through.

I honed in on the once irritating sounds around me to drown him out. Any sound was preferable to his voice.

Tap Tap Tap. Thud. Scratch. Scream.

Then she walked in...and it all stopped.

"Hey, mucker," Rose plopped down into a wooden chair beside me. Even her more casual movements somehow looked agile.

"Hello, goddess."

Her dark eyes flicked towards me. One was briefly covered by a wink and my jittery fingers calmed.

She shuffled some of the books I'd pulled around the table before plucking one that caught her eye. "Sorry I'm late." She was always late; it was expected. "I got sidetracked talking to Constable Belikov." That wasn't expected.

"Is that so?" The Constable was a peculiar man I had yet to get a proper read on. Always brooding. And when he wasn't brooding, he was avoiding. "Did he have anything interesting to say?"

"To you," Rose's question was complimented with a smirk. "Probably not. But it was necessary."

"Necessity is the mistress and guide of nature."

Rose's eyebrows quirked peculiarly. I wasn't surprised that she wasn't as well versed with DiVinci as me. Not many of our kind were all that interested in human works. But the man was a genius.

"Well good news is I don't think he'll be running to throw you into the dungeon any time soon." She licked her fingers before turning a page of her book. Endearing habit.

"Oh, and I was so looking forward to it."

The disappointment in my voice amused her. "Ha! Go on, you tosser."

"They say you meet the most interesting of folk when imprisoned. The tales they must have!"

"Well I'm sure you could cock up some grand scheme to land yourself in there if that's your wish," she mocked.

"I don't imagine it would be hard. He doesn't like me much." It wasn't a secret. Even before openly admitting it at dinner the other night, Belikov's distrust was obvious to me.

She looked up from her book, her voice lower and more serious now. "He doesn't know you."

Upon first meeting him, I could tell there was more to the man than met the eyes, but I had been too distracted with finally getting a chance to greet Vasilisa to care.

One late day in the library with Vasilisa and Lord Ozera, I noticed him sitting in the far corner. He was pretending not to be listening to us, but I could tell his astute senses were tuned into every fine detail of the room. Without meaning to, I opened my mind to present his aura to me. Maybe it was a bad habit that I couldn't quit, but the faintest hint of colors sparked my inclination and I went searching for more.

Beams of red showing his energy and strength—typical for a Dhampir—were highlighted by rays of orange. Self-control, ambition, courage, all unsurprising but impressive nonetheless. A couple oddities that did stand out though were the indigo streaks showing his highly-intuitive nature and finally, the cloud of gray creating a haze over them all. Depression, exhaustion, skepticism. Also not entirely uncommon for Dhampir, especially those who had fought in battle. It was inevitable that someone who had seen such chaos and gore would feel grief and distress, but it was usually in small doses or in moments that they were reminded of it. This was a continuous fog that followed Belikov around. I wondered, what could be causing him such anguish and faithlessness?

Then Rose entered the room and the rays exploded. New colors formed as others heightened. I tapped into more magic and began to scan them, trying to disentangle the code they were presenting. But then I remembered...Rose. Our accord. I had promised her I wouldn't use so much. I would find limits in my capacity and only practice what was necessary.

So I let go. I brought my mind away from him and back to myself. The colors slowly faded into the background until there was nothing there, and not a moment later Belikov stood up and exited the room.

Rose was right, he didn't know me, but nor I him. I'd thought about that missed opportunity often. That kaleidoscope of hues was like an itch I needed to scratch. And if I couldn't access it the easy way, then I'd have to rely on my exceptional sociability instead.

"That he doesn't," I responded after a few moments of recollection. "Maybe we should change that."

Rose smiled at the thought and I suddenly had two reasons to do it.

She looked back down at her book, but about half a second later she slammed it shut and let out a huff, a few loose scrolls falling off the table from the sudden gust of air.

"I'm tired of this shit," she bit out in frustration. "These aren't getting us anywhere."

She pushed her chair out and I pocketed the screeching sound for later use. "We need results."

"I agree," I stood up more slowly. "What do you propose?"

Rose gnawed on her bottom lip. A tragic habit. Those lips were far too enticing to mar. She began mumbling to herself. I thought about stopping her, but she seemed like she might be on a roll. Plus, who was I to judge?

"I already checked the painting Victor mentioned," she evaluated. "There was nothing there but a dingy old hall. Not that I expected anything more. We need to talk to people, but without causing suspicion."

"What about Mazur," I suggested.

"What about him," Rose turned to me with her arms crossed over her chest. She could cut a man down with that scowl. Her disdain for him was marginally amusing, when I wasn't at risk of receiving the backlash.

"Well," I started carefully. "Technically he has no ties to your kingdom or the Sage King's. We could use him to enlist men for information. Provide them questions and suspects to query. That way you and Vasilisa are clean."

"Sounds sneaky." Rose was hesitant. I could tell she didn't like it, but whether it was because it was sly or because she wasn't directly in the action was unknown.

"A little," I walked towards her and held one of her hands in mine. They were rougher than other hands I'd touched, and that somehow captivated me. "But it's worth a shot. And if it turns out we don't like it, we'll try something else."

Time stood still for a moment as I watched her reel with thoughts. I could almost see them hovering above her—her expressions taking the place of her aura. A single page to turn in the book of Rose Hathaway. I found my fingers twitching at my side, a desire to move them to my tongue and lick them as she'd done before moving on to read the next.

"Fine." Her whole body sagged with displeasure before straightening up again, her long finger appearing just below my nose. "But I will have a list of conditions and if he does anything, and I mean anything, that goes against them I will personally wrap him up in a bow and toss him right onto those bigoted humans' doorstep."

"First off," she began spouting off a list of demands. I was about to tell her that providing limitations to someone we were seeking help from probably wasn't the best route, but I became distracted again. I'd heard about her history as a commander. When the proposition of a match was brought to my kingdom, she was the Marshall of all the Dhampir forces at St. Vladimir's. But that side of her wasn't always easy to see. Her beauty rivaled any poised dame I'd met, part of it amplified by that more wild side of her. She was a bit of a rule-breaker, I could attest to that, so authority didn't seem like it was in her realm of aspirations. And her artful humor was definitely not like the more serious, assertive Guardians I'd known.

When she went on like this though, I could picture her standing above a group of surly men dispensing her absolute orders and daring someone to question her. What a sight that would have been. A goddess among men casting fear and respect with nothing more than her spoken voice.

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are when you get angry?"

"I'm not angry," she said angrily.

"Hmm, I think the defenseless table would beg to differ," I pointed to the spot she had just been ruthlessly beating her fist against.

She looped her hands around her illustrious curves and I couldn't keep my eyes from darting straight to them. I was only a man. "Clearly my stunning beauty has clouded your mind," she jested. "Don't take it too hard. It's been known to drive men mad."

"I'm always mad around you Rose. Here—I'll write you an impromptu poem," I cleared my throat and ceremoniously lifted a hand in the air. "Rose is in red, never in blue, sharp as a thorn, fights like one too."

"I'm not wearing red." She cocked her head with her brows raised.

"Aren't you?" My eyes squinted as the red beams of her aura began to call out to me.

Rose hummed to herself, amused once again. "Nice try, quare half."

She took a step away from the table, ready to leave but paused as if she'd forgotten something. She turned around, her eyes narrowing at me over her shoulder as she said, "Did I say thank you?"

"You didn't," she didn't need to. She'd never need to. "But I'll take one now, Little Dhampir." I tapped my cheek, a bold gesture that would either result in payoff or a backhand.

Rose grinned, that mischievous smirk always keeping me guessing what she was planning to do next. She reached up to me, placing her palm on one cheek and her lips on the other. Before she pulled away, she leaned closer and whispered sweetly into my ear, "Thank you."

As magnificent as she was when she was on a tirade, her soft, tender side left me speechless. How could one woman be so many extraordinary things? She was too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people I knew. We were similar in that way. A similarity I treasured.

I must have been a saint in a previous life because there's nothing I've done in this one that comes close to deserving someone like you.

Her cheeks flushed and I realized I'd voiced my thoughts aloud. But if that pink tint illuminating her sublime features was my prize, then I welcomed the mistake.

"I have to go," she smiled. "Lissa is waiting for me."

I sighed, only partly an exaggeration. "I know you must be devastated to leave me."

"I'm not sure how I'll recover." Her wit warmed my insides more than a bottle of wine.

I watched the doorway even after she'd left, already missing her presence. But I was reassured by the fact that one day these brief moments would last forever. Forever mine.

I began putting some of the books back, probably on the wrong shelves as my thoughts led to ways I could convince Abe to help us.

You've never done anything that doesn't serve your own interest first.

The voice was back.

I answered it. This time will be different. I will be different.

A faint tapping in the background began to arise. I slammed a book down, the echo drowning out the familiar sound long enough for me to stroll out of the room to find Abe.

RPOV

Songs: In Your Face by Cat Power, Day 'N' Nite by Kid Kudi, Punchin' Bag by Cage the Elephant, The Humbling River by Puscifer

"I have something for you."

Lissa glided into my room with her hands crossed behind her, a cheery smile complimenting her elegant movements. It resembled dancing more than walking.

"It should help in your practices with Guardian Belikov."

I froze.

"You know?"

Her brows knit together and her nostrils flared. "Rose, don't act so surprised. It's insulting."

I leaned back, more impressed than shocked by her attitude. "Damn. Alright, Queenie."

"Just to be clear, this doesn't mean I like it, but I understand it."

I started to say I was sorry. Dimitri had been pressuring me to talk to her about it and even though I'd intended to on more than one occasion, I still hadn't found a way to explain how important it was to me. The fact she understood without my explanation made me all the more grateful. So instead I said, "Thank you."

Her chin dipped in a small nod, but I could tell there was still something else she wanted to say.

"What is it?"

Lissa glanced up at me, a tinge of nervousness tickling through the bond.

"Have you told Adrian?"

"Umm about training with a badass Guardian warrior even though his Mother and trusted senchenal explicitly said not to? No, I haven't."

Lissa bit down on the inside of her lip, hesitating before deciding to speak her mind.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but...don't you think you're being a little hypocritical?"

"Woah. Shots fired," I huffed.

"It's just...well...you were pretty upset with Adrian for not letting you in, right?"

I could already see where this was going.

"And now it feels like you're sort of keeping a secret from him."

"I'm not keeping it a secret. I'm just not telling him," I shrugged.

"Rose." The nervousness was gone. "That deduction is completely irrational and you know it."

Another brassy comment was on the tip of my tongue, but Lissa got there first. "I won't pretend to know the ins and outs of your relationship, or that I know him that well. Because I don't. But what I do know is that if this is truly something that matters to you, then you should share it with him. It's not fair to assume how he'll react without even giving him the chance to. I think he deserves a little more credit than that, don't you?"

For the second time that night, I was dazzled by her. She was dignified like other monarchs I'd met, without losing the thoughtfulness and foresight that tended to simmer away the more their power grew. It was so reminiscent of someone else who would have stood before me and told me the same exact thing. Someone I respected and loved. Someone I was proud to see Lissa become.

"You're right," I breathed out and she nodded again. My pride morphed into a bit of sadness as I quietly added, "You're so much like her Liss. Your mom."

A sullen smile formed on her face and her eyes lit up with graceful hope. "You really think so?"

"I know so."

A small laugh came out of her and she shook her shoulders, bringing back her earlier confidence. "Well in that case it's very fitting I present these to you. Since she's the one who had them made in the first place."

She finally brought her hands from behind her back as deep brown fabric slowly unraveled in front of her. My eyes went wide with excitement and I began bouncing on my toes. "Are those—"

"The most god awful thing you've ever worn," she finished for me. "Yes. But if you're really planning on going through with sparring against a Varangian Guard, you better put them on."

She tossed the pants at me with a smirk. I snatched them out of the air and ran my hands over the split legs, admiring the smooth material. As I held them I felt like a part of me that had been missing had suddenly just been reattached. Which was a bit ridiculous given they were a piece of clothing for Vlad's sake.

I didn't even wait for Lissa to leave before hiking up my skirt to slip them on. After I managed to squeeze one leg into the tight fabric I realized something Lissa had said. My face popped up from under my skirt to meet hers as I asked, "Wait...he's a what?!"

/

Week 1

I sucked.

Every routine we started, I was on the ground within seconds. Then Dimitri would say the same, increasingly annoying thing every time, "Again."

He was polite about it, but hearing that word was just another reminder that I had failed. I'd be covered in dust, or mud, or hay, or whatever irritating souvenir I'd earned from the terrain I'd just landed on, and before I could finish wiping it off he was already positioned for another round.

Eventually, I stopped even bothering cleaning myself up between rounds. It became fruitless and in a sense...humiliating. I decided I'd settle somewhere between ignoring it and wearing it with pride before launching at the Rus giant.

If only that false confidence actually helped my lackluster skills.

Leap. Swing. Jolt. Slam.

"Again."

Week 2

I was getting better.

My blocks were more direct and our rounds were lasting longer, but my offensive skills were still ineffective.

On day 8 I managed to hit Dimitri square in the chest. I was so shocked that I didn't pay attention to his counter and ended up staring up at him from the flat of my back, but there was still a glimmer of pride seeping through me.

That was until he gave me some Zen lesson about focussing on your target and never assuming the fight's over. I realized he'd given me an opening on purpose just to prove a point.

I wanted to be mad, but Dimitri's ability to go from bold warrior to humble teacher was pretty remarkable. When he was on, he was fucking on. He was fierce, strong, and deadly fast. A lethal combination. But when the fighting was done he was patient, calm, and full of knowledge.

I did my best to mimic his composure and soak up everything he was saying without losing it. But that didn't always work. Sometimes the beat down was too brutal for me not to shoot him a sarcastic comment or mumble profanities under my breath. I'd try to remind myself he was the one doing me a favor, but it wasn't easy to tell that to my inner animosity.

On day 11 he decided to use that anger.

"You're not focussing."

"Are you kidding? If you are, then they really need to reevaluate what's funny over there in Novgorod."

I waited for an eye roll or some hint of annoyance but he just crossed his arms over his broad chest and waited for me to stand.

"Your mind is somewhere else today," he calmly said as I wiped my wet palm down my leg. "You need to concentrate on what's happening now, not what happened earlier or has yet to happen."

There he goes with that Zen bullshit again.

Though, he wasn't wrong. Adrian and I had met up with Zmey a few hours before and I was still discouraged by the lack of information his men had found so far. But the last thing I wanted to do after Dimitri swiped my legs out from under me was admit he was right.

"Will you cut that shit out," I kicked some mud with the heel of my boot. "I am focussed. You've just got a hardon for seeing me ass up in the mud."

"Rose," he warned. It was the closest he ever got to getting mad.

I stared at him defiantly, daring him to say more. I was fully prepared for him to babble yet another life lesson he had tucked away but instead, he looked at me studiously, as if he was noticing something new. Strange given the fact I was pissed off at him more often than not in our sessions. Usually at this point he'd call for a break, tell me to cool off before we started again, but this time he slowly sunk down, poised for attack and called out, "Let's go."

I didn't hesitate. I ran towards him, aiming at any weak spot I could find. He of course blocked with ease. Normally, he had the decency to at least pretend he was having to concentrate to evade me, but as I swung my leg towards his torso he pushed me off with boredom and disinterest.

"Sloppy," he said impassively. "I can read your moves before you even make them."

I let out a growl and tried again, throwing a punch at his shoulder and kicking my heel towards his thigh. Again, he blocked.

"You're not focussing. Are you even trying?" His detachment was more infuriating than his poised restraint.

"Stop. Saying that!" I furiously flung a series of hits towards him, none of them making the contact I wanted. But at least he was having to work harder to block.

After a couple minutes, he took a few steps back so he was no longer in my reach and began walking in a semi-circle around me. He reminded me of his wolf, inspecting potential prey.

"You need to channel what you already know Rose," his voice was borderline frustrated now. "There's more inside you. You're just not tapping into it."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?!" I flung my arms in the air and looked at him over my shoulder. He was at my back now, looking at the ground absorbed in thought.

"I don't know," he said to himself more than me. Once he was at my side again, he shifted his gaze to peer at me out of the corner of his eye. "But if you don't figure it out soon, there's not much more I can do to help you. At this rate, it's no wonder a couple of humans managed to overpower you."

He stopped in place. Waiting. Ready. Maybe he said something else, but I couldn't hear. The only audible sound was my racing heart pounding in my ears. My face became hot, the rage spreading to the tips of my ears and down my neck. My twitching hands clenched at my side and formed into tight fists. My jaw was sealed so tightly I thought it might snap. Until it flew open with a wrathful cry.

I ran at him again, my vision morphing our scene into black and red. I didn't make the same mistake as the first time. Once he was in reach I feigned left before spinning around his right side and dropped below his elbow swiping across the air. I flung up from my crouched position and shot my fist straight upwards through his now open arms. I tightened my fingers just as they smacked directly into Dimitri's jaw and sent him stumbling back.

This time, the small dose of surprise in his eyes made it obvious he hadn't intentionally allowed the strike. I stood there, my hands at my side and my chest heaving with rabid hostility. I was ready to tear him apart.

Until his hand came up to the spot I had just hit him, and that flame inside me went cold. Oh no.

There were rules of decorum when sparring against a Guardian. In practice, you tended to stay clear of your opponent's face. It was considered a dirty move and rightfully frowned upon. When his hand moved down from his lip to inspect the small bit of blood, I was terrified what his retaliation would be.

I probably should've instantly apologized to lessen the burn, but instead I just said, "Whoops."

He looked over to me, his hand still hovering near his face. I expected resentment, disappointment, or at the very least annoyance, but oddly his bloodied lip slowly curved into a menacing smile as that hand motioned me towards him.

"Again."

I blinked, and for a split second I swore I saw a bearded face wearing that same jackal smile.

I shook my head and remembered what Dimitri said about focussing on the now. He was still standing there waiting for me, a hint of excitement in him that became contagious. I shifted my feet and readied myself, my face morphing into a grin to match his.

"Again," I mirrored back, no longer agitated by the word.

Week 4

"That's good, but don't grip it so tightly." Dimitri patiently said as I readjusted the wooden stick in my hand.

He decided it was finally time to ramp up our training with weapons and was showing me how to properly wield a stake. I had hoped for a sword or ax—something with a little more oomph. But I didn't totally mind since it was small enough to sneak under my clothes and practice back in my room.

"Like this?" I lifted it up just under his nose, probably a little too enthusiastically as he subtly moved his face away.

"Not quite," he was trying hard to hide his amusement. His hand came up to my wrist and made a slight adjustment. "You want it to feel like an extension of your arm. Like it's a part of you rather than something you're trying to control." His rough fingers grazed over my knuckles causing them to relax. He inspected my grasp with that natural dedication and intensity and I couldn't help but stare up at him. As a familiar buzz hummed through my hand under his touch, I began to wonder...what it would feel like in another setting. How that strength and power would be translated into something more carnal between him and—ballax!

What the hell was I thinking about that for?

"Rose, are you alright?"

I realized his touch and my embarrassing line of thinking had caused me to flush. "Yep. Fine." My voice was suspiciously high, but thankfully he just ignored it as he moved away.

He'd already showed me several times how to strike one of the straw scarecrows so we didn't have to spend much time on them. I thought it was pretty self-explanatory but Dimitri seemed impressed with how quickly I was able to master it.

Building on that momentum, we went straight into sparring. At first, it felt a little awkward holding something in my hand, but after a while the weapon began to feel more natural...like a part of me, just as Dimitri had said.

As we continued I began to feel this surge of empowerment. I tried a few times to catch him off guard, but it was nearly impossible to ambush someone that fast. The more I moved the stake in my hand though, the more I could predict how his would move as well. It was the first time since we'd started our training that I realized even though he consistently knew all of my moves, I also knew a lot of his. We'd been practicing for weeks and if I could focus on all his lessons, he'd ironically given me all the tools to beat him.

Once I began using that insight, the fight took on a life of its own.

His blunt stake swung over my head as I ducked down and jutted my foot out towards his shin. He leaped back with impressive dexterity and swung down towards me before his feet had even landed. I rolled to the left, kicking up dirt around me and hopped back up to swing at his side. My cheeks were hurting from grinning so hard as his arm made it only just in time to stop me from stabbing the dull end of my stake between his ribs.

I wiggled my brows at him tauntingly before jumping back out of his reach. He moved faster, harder than I'd seen him push before. I should have been a little frightened by the sight, but I wasn't. I was exhilarated.

Dimitri launched a series of hits, each nearly impossible to see. But I somehow continued to block. I eliminated everything around us and focused solely on his form and the stake in his hand. Eventually, I was fighting an enormous shadow. A shadow I was starting to beat.

It moved its left shoulder down, preparing to charge at me. Instead of turning away to run, I barreled directly at it. I pulled myself up onto the shadow's shoulder and swung my leg around its back. I threw my entire weight down, sending the dark form careening to the ground. A grunt flew out of its mouth as dust encircled us. It was heavy. I could feel it trying to flip over below me and wasn't sure if I'd be able to hold it. My weapon fumbled around as I tried to press my opponent down but just as I thought I'd lose the upper hand I managed to get a good hold and immediately shoved it down into the pitiless black chest. I looked up towards its face and where brown eyes should have been waiting to congratulate me, dark crimson orbs were in their place.

My heart raced as the blood-red beads stared at me, the unnatural life slowly leaving them.

Snap.

A sound behind me. Another attacker.

My hand shot down to my boot and pulled out a dagger. The same one I'd kept on me since the Ivashkov Castle. Without even needing to aim, I flung the dagger behind me, the steel wailing as it sliced through the air. I heard a thud as it sank into place. Wood, not flesh. Then a slow exhale.

I looked behind me, a flash of pale skin quickly turned beige. Red curls bounced as Mason's head turned to look at the dagger, not even an inch from his face. He reached up and flicked the hilt causing it to slightly wiggle in the wooden post it had landed in.

"Damn Hathaway! That was close," Mason called over.

"I—I…" My throat tightened around any words that tried to make their way out. I attempted to swallow but it was no use. My heart was beating impossibly fast as a dull pain made its way along the sides of my head. I felt my vision shifting again, but couldn't make out what I was seeing.

Then something warm and coarse gently moved along the top of my wrist. I turned away from Mason and looked down to where Dimitri's large hand was wrapped around mine still pressing the stake into his chest.

"It's okay, Rose." That low accented voice began to lull me and when I looked up, I was relieved to see brown eyes staring back at me. "You can let go now." Dimitri slowly moved our hands and my stake to the side. I hadn't even realized how much my chest was heaving until it started to stop.

"Was it real," I whispered as he began to sit up. The memory of that crimson glare was still plaguing me. "Did I—"

His brow furrowed when I couldn't finish my thought.

"I mean, I know I've been needing a haircut, but you could've just said something," someone laughed behind us.

Mason.

My knife!

I leaped off of the ground and raced over to Mason. I gawked at the dagger in disbelief. It was still stuck in the wooden post right at the height of what would've been Mason's eye. I yanked it out and held it in my hand.

"I'm so sorry, Mason," I said, still looking at the knife.

"For what? That was badass." His hand came up to smack me in the arm playfully causing my body to sway.

My fingertips began to tremble around the blade. "I could've killed you."

"Rose?" He gripped my shoulder and leaned down, but I wouldn't look at him. I couldn't. "C'mon Rose, I'm okay. Really! No harm no foul."

"I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know why I did it," my voice was rattled and cracking with emotion. My eyes began to sting and I wasn't sure why, but it felt like everything around me was falling apart.

After the fight, I was certain I was facing a Strigoi. Whether it was a hallucination or memory, even the image of one caused my fear to take hold of me. But as I stood there beside my friend trying to comfort me and tell me it was okay, I was no longer afraid of a Strigoi. I was afraid of myself.

I shoved my dagger back into my boot and ran, leaving fragments of distorted visions and Mason's shouts behind me.

/

Drops of water flung from the stream as my rock sunk in. Tiny ringlets formed along the surface as each drop returned back to its home. I had hoped coming down here would settle me, but the anxiety was still buzzing in my chest. Little pricks that I wished would smooth out into lulling ripples.

I inhaled a deep breath and caught wind of a familiar scent. I pushed the breath out with more force and dropped my head.

"How did you find me? Oh wait, lemme guess. I told you about this place too?"

He looked around at the unremarkable stream I'd perched down at. "No. I followed your tracks."

I looked over my shoulder to see a large pair of muddy footprints beside a smaller set.

Idiot.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

I threw another rock into the water, its splash nearly reaching my feet. "I'm fine. A little embarrassed for acting like an overdramatic princess, but fine."

Liar.

Dimitri moved beside me and turned his open palm up, wordlessly asking if he could sit. I nodded and reached for another stone.

His movements were as silent and nimble as they were in the training ring. I didn't even realize he had sat down until a pebble from my pile went missing. I looked over to see him tossing it up in the air casually before launching it across the stream. Doing something so trivial somehow made him look younger.

A brisk breeze blew past us and pushed aside his loose hair to reveal more of his face. I could see the edge of that scar on his forehead but turned my face down to avoid looking at it too intently. I could tell it bothered him when I did.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," his deep voice was a nice contrast to the sharp whistle of the wind. "But I want you to know you can."

I rolled the rock along my fingertips, wondering how long it would take to smooth out its rough edges. How many times I needed to be thrown from palm to palm until mine were smoothed out as well.

"I didn't mean to do it." My voice was so quiet I wasn't sure if he'd hear me.

"I know."

I dropped the stone and wrapped my hands around my knees. "Not just that I didn't mean to hurt him. Obviously I wouldn't do that. But I never meant to do it at all. I didn't even think. It just happened."

I glanced up at Dimitri, a little worried he might be looking at me like I was losing my mind. Instead, his expression was blank. That somehow brought me comfort. I didn't want to be judged, but I didn't want pity either.

"Sometimes instincts can kick in when we are caught up in the moment," he calmly explained. "You mentioned something after the fight. Did you see something? Maybe that could have triggered your defenses."

"I saw…" I hesitated, thinking about those dark, lifeless red eyes staring back at me. It terrified me to think I had actually seen them in the flesh. "I saw a Strigoi."

"You were a Strigoi," I corrected.

"I see," he nodded. "And were you afraid?"

"Yes...but not of them."

"What then?"

I moved my hand up to my chest, that familiar feeling that something was missing tickling my fingertips. "I was scared what would happen if they were here. What they could do. And that I wouldn't be able to protect the ones I love."

Suddenly I was back in Dimitri's room after his nightmare, only this time our roles were reversed.

"All rational fears."

I looked out to the stream and wished it were warm enough to jump in. My skin was crawling and I needed some sort of relief. "I just feel like there are constantly two people battling inside me...and I'm afraid what will happen when one wins."

We sat in silence for a while, that statement drifting between us. Eventually, Dimitri spoke again. "The single most common fear is essentially, fear of the unknown. The unpredictability of this world can make our self doubts that much more present. But even with all the preparation we can possibly achieve, sometimes we have to rely on our instincts and your instincts are far superior to those twice your age, Rose. When the time comes, you'll know what to do."

"How can you be so sure?"

He paused for a moment and I wondered where his thoughts had gone to. "I just am. Besides," he leaned down a little closer with a sly expression on his normally stoic face, "it was you that just beat me back there. Or had you forgotten?"

Small sparks of gratification bubbled inside me. I had beaten him, hadn't I.

An uncontrollable grin curled its way up to my cheeks. "You're right. I'm officially a badass."

A small laugh stumbled out of his mouth. The sound was like a warm blanket on a brisk winter's night.

"That you are." He smiled and my chest swelled with pride.

"Ehem." A small cough yanked my attention.

"Oh, hi," I uttered as I rose to stand. I sounded nervous. Why was I nervous? "Adrian, I'm sorry were you looking for me?"

His hands were wrapped around his back and he was standing at perfect attention. He was so good at that. Looking impossibly refined without even trying.

I walked towards him, wrapping a ringlet of my ponytail around my finger.

He smiled, a carefree grin that told me he was in high spirits. "Not exactly, although I'm always pleased to see you, my deity." Adrian flashed me a wink and my smile was a natural reaction. "I was hoping to have a word with Constable Belikov."

His gaze moved to the man behind me and mine followed.

Dimitri's impassive glower was back, this time without the earlier acceptance I'd been met with. It was a subtle change, but it carried the weight of a shut door.

"Uhhh," I started to come up with some kind of excuse for Dimitri. As much as I had been wanting him to get to know Adrian better, it became painfully obvious this wasn't the time. Not only had I almost just put one of his head Guardians out of commission, but I'd also freaked out over it and he had to chase me down and placate me. He'd already gone out of his way to appease one melodramatic royal and now here was another coming to ask him for more. Before I could come up with anything though, Adrian politely cut in.

"If you don't mind, that is, I'd be honored to have a quick chat before your patrol starts. I hope it won't be too much of a bother."

I didn't even have to turn around. I could feel Dimitri tensing behind me.

"Of course, My Lord." Though his words seemed polite, I could hear the faint bite behind them that had the hairs on the back of my neck rising. "I'm at your service."

I glanced back at him, then to Adrian once more. Seeing the eagerness and endearing hope in Adrian's green eyes sealed my lips shut. Besides, they were both grown men, it wasn't my place to meddle and if Dimitri wanted to say no he could.

"Well, I'll be off then. Have fun you two!" I flashed Dimitri a wave over my shoulder and gave Adrian a gentle squeeze on the arm, forcing myself to think about a long hot bath rather than what the two of them could possibly have to say to one another.


A/N: *comes out of quarantine cave waving white flag* It's been too long. Again. But I hope to make up for it with Romitri hehe.

I had a lot of fun looking through the original series and picking friends' brains on quotes to use here. Especially for the APOV. Lots of nods to VA/BL.

I also felt it was really important that Rose get called out here, and who better to do that than Lissa! Rose has the tendancy to want everyone to be honest and transparent with her but she also holds in a lot of things about herself and covers it up with her colorful personality. Especially things she may see as weak to her character or that she doesn't want to burden others with. Queen Lissa isn't having it though and Dimitri has this natural ability to make you want to talk at his gorgeous face all night XP

Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading! Next ch will start with a DPOV *evil laughter*