"For darkness restores what light cannot repair."
– Joseph Brodsky.
The window reflected the young man's handsome face; there was a distinctive spark of vivacity and cleverness in his gaze despite his meditative expression. Nikolai was not looking through the glass. His eyes were down to the floor, his senses off, his mind the one travelling through all of Ravka, astounded at its beauty, yet melancholic. Contradictory thoughts amassed as he wondered if he was either a demon or a saint.
Born as a human, close enough to divinity, tainted enough to be unworthy of it, burning the brightest as he fell from grace.
Despite popular beliefs, nobody ever said been discovered as the Sun Summoner would be a blessing. Much less if it entailed been publicly revealed as a bastard prince.
He had fully become Nikolai Nothing, separated from the family that raised him, actively fighting against them. Yet what else could he do? He was a Grisha. Contrary to ignorant perceptions, that did not make him disposable nor any less humane. He had never expected the only father he had ever known to share such views. Life was full of unpleasant surprises.
"You seem sad, prinț al luminii."
Nikolai shivered, recognizing the untrustworthiness in the deep, enigmatically charming voice behind his back, but enjoying the adrenaline it awakened in him nevertheless. It was oddly fascinating to work alongside someone who would otherwise be an enemy. Moreover, objectively, it was an appealing voice.
His eyes went over his shoulder to meet The Darkling's, the latter stood in impeccable looks that combined quite well with the mysterious atmosphere inside the room. The light coming through the window was too weak, the colors and decorations too dark and opaque to reflect it. It certainly looked like a place Aleksander would find alluring.
He was watching Nikolai with what could be called half a smile, yet his eyes had a completely different quality to them; they were studying the lines of Nikolai's silhouette embraced by his tailored kefta, practically swallowing the sight of him. Something in the stare made Nikolai slightly self-conscious. Not embarrassed though. He was fairly aware of his own good appearance, and for all his faults, he would never be accused of false modesty.
"I am no prince," he answered lightly, turning around once more. "And worry not. I am contemplative, not sad."
He heard steps and soon The Darkling's face was on the window, right over Nikolai's shoulder. Tall bastard. Although their height difference was not overly significant. Gray eyes settled intently on Nikolai's profile.
"Something troubling you?"
"Only the usual."
Aleksander remained silent for a few seconds. "I am aware you retain fond feelings for your family. I cannot say I am knowledgeable in such matters."
Nikolai wanted to laugh. Aleksander was honest – in this particular instance at least – and that alone was enough to lift his spirits. After so many years of secrets and lies, seeing someone who embraced the darkness, including whatever truths were found in it, was a welcome sight.
"You are becoming soft, General," Nikolai stepped aside and leaned his back against the wall next to the window, facing Aleksander in an informal, relaxed stance that he was sure no one would attempt in front of the Grisha's feared and admired leader.
Nikolai had been feared and admired in the past as well, Aleksander needed to do much more to impress Ravka's former prince.
He narrowed his eyes at Nikolai. "I would say I have been too indulgent with you, but I know audaciousness is a natural part of your… delightful personality."
Nikolai smiled like the fairy tale prince he appeared to be, "Flatterer much? Never would have guessed it at first sight."
His hazel eyes roamed Aleksander more fluently and evidently than the general's examination of him. Aleksander's glare became sharper, Nikolai's smile remained.
For a moment, he wondered what was he trying to earn with the excessive boldness. He admitted to himself it probably only was for personal entertainment, it was amusing and exhilarating in equal parts to get under the skin of the seemingly most controlled man in the land. Perhaps it was not the safest idea of fun; anyone could get lost playing in the dark.
Then again, Nikolai had no longer anything to lose. He had lost his family, his chances to the throne, his country. He had been proclaimed as one of the rarest and most powerful beings in existence. Comparing himself to Aleksander, he was a jovial young man whose remarkableness came from secrecy, dishonesty, and heartbreak in front of a shadowy yet brilliant being. In his personal opinion, they did not have much in common despite being so akin as Aleksander described.
The contrast between them was interesting though, and Nikolai recognized they did share a fundamental trait: the ability to only look as if in control.
Aleksander gave a single step closer and Nikolai stood straighter. His back remained against the wall, his muscles loosened enough, but his heart was thumping strongly inside his ribcage.
He felt somewhat trapped and still exhilarated, like fighting one of those powerful enemies he always sought. The adrenaline shot through him, nearly shaking him into another shiver, and he craved more.
Aleksander looked as his usual self: ethereal, untouchable, making a statement of being above everything and everyone. Nikolai defied such statement by simply standing so close. Cruel as it might be, Nikolai's military career had taught him nobody was unbreakable, nor completely unwavering. Whatever Aleksander considered himself to be, he was only human.
Aleksander gave another step closer, then another, until his breath touched Nikolai's lips.
Nikolai actually saw the turmoil and indecisiveness behind his expression, the nearly imperceptible tremor for tension and restrain. He smirked seeing his suspicions confirmed. Aleksander's gaze became harder, steely, implacable. His eyes shone like tangible blades.
It made the softness with which he leaned forward and touched Nikolai's lips with his own all the more surprising. Their tact was gentle, the feeling they awakened was both surrender and uprising. Nikolai smiled. What did darkness care if he was a demon or a saint? Aleksander was no hero either and they both knew it. Whatever they were did not matter if they were equally alone and ruined.
He kissed him harder upon such realization, grabbing a fistful of his thick, dark hair. Aleksander seemed to enjoy audaciousness quite a lot now.
He also smiled against Nikolai's lips, fully pressing him to the wall, making Nikolai's knee fit between his legs. His hands were unexpectedly warm, Nikolai felt them through his clothes, holding his face, pushing slightly down the collar of his attire to bite the skin of his bare throat.
He groaned deeply.
Footsteps sounded from the hallway, the two of them froze.
They simply froze. Aleksander stood immobile for a few seconds, his head low, resting on Nikolai's shoulder.
His body vibrated as he fought to regain control; there was clear, palpable anger coming from him, reproaching the fact that he slipped like that. Nikolai put a hand on his back. They did not have time to talk, but the gesture was enough to ease Aleksander. They pushed themselves away from one another, Nikolai pulled his collar higher, hiding whatever mark there was in there.
They went to separate corners of the room, glancing at one another. Nikolai smirked yet again, Aleksander couldn't hold back a grin of his own.