Darkling/General Kirigan/Aleksander Morozova x Targaryen!Reader
Part 1
Shadow and Bone and Game of Thrones crossover
A/N: My new story is finally released y’all! Sorry if it took a while but this semester has me in a chokehold. I will be publishing it as a series so I hope you lovelies enjoy! And as always feedback and reblogs are much appreciated and let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! Have a beautiful day!
Summary: Imagine being the youngest Targaryen and the half-sister of Daenerys. You had lived most of your life in captivity, shut off from the world after your brother Viserys married you off to an old lord at the age of 12 as means to get rid of you for being a half-breed. You used to be a bright and free-spirited child who saw nothing but the goodness in those around you, but the experiences you faced made you grow cold and distant with a lack of remorse for the wicked. Not wanting to live the life your brother had chained you to, you ran away and finally reunited with your sister and helped her win back the throne. (Season 8 never happened) Wanting to build a life of your own, you set sail across the seas with your dragons and army, traveling far and wide before venturing into foreign land in a place called Ravka where you stumble upon a kingdom with a king who you loathe, believing him undeserving of rule. During your stay there, you cross paths with a certain raven-haired general with aspirations of his own. Will you stand alongside him in his mission, or will you take the throne for your own and rule as Y/N Targaryen, the Dragon Witch Queen of Ravka?
Warnings: vulgar language, mentions of rape and abuse and suicide, mentions of abuse against a minor, mentions of incestuous themes, violence and gore, sexual themes. This series will have some dark themes so please read at your own risk.
Notes: slow burn, angst, enemies to lovers trope. Flashbacks are in italics.
Flashback takes place in Pentos 4 years before Daenerys’s marriage to Khal Drogo. Reader is 12 while Daenerys is 13.
“Something doesn’t seem right.” You muttered out in a faint voice. A frown was painted on your features as you stood by the balcony overlooking the sea that touched the coast of Pentos, watching the small waves caress the sandy shores while your fingers traced along the cracks and grooves that lined the stone handrail.
"Whatever do you mean?” Your sister Daenerys asked from behind you while she brushed through your hair.
“Why is Viserys having us dress up?”
“Well he said we’re having important guests.”
“Yes but I don’t understand what that has to do with us.”
"I don’t know. I’m sure it’s important with whatever he is doing.” Daenerys shrugged as she separated parts of your hair for a braid, running her fingers through your lengths lovingly before interlocking them with each other. She had always loved your hair growing up, believing it to be unique to the Targaryen line who were known for their silver hair. You had instead inherited your mother’s skin and her hair, which was a rich y/h/c that cascaded down your back. If one were to see you amongst your siblings, they would not have recognized you as a Targaryen if it weren’t for your eyes. Like the famous dragon riders of long before, you shared their purple orbs that had passed down generations, a proud symbol of their Valyrian heritage. While Daenerys’s eyes were a striking color of violet reminiscent of the flowers themselves, yours were the color of amethysts with flakes of gold that resembled a bit of the fire that embodied the dragons of your name. Despite being the bastard child of Aerys Targaryen, the Targaryen blood still ran through your veins, and the talk of you and your sister’s beauty had reached lands as far as the eye could see.
“Am I being sent away?”
“What? Of course not! What gave you that idea?”
“He’s mentioned it before. I know that he hates me for being a half-breed.”
“Don’t say that.” Daenerys sighed, tying off your braid before resting her hands on your shoulders. “I don’t think Viserys is going to send you away y/n.”
The sound of the door creaking from being opened echoed through the room, and as you turned towards it, you saw your older brother Viserys waltz in, a confident grin plastered on his face as he stridden over to the two of you with a bundle of dresses draped over his arms. “Ah. There the two of you are. I bring gifts from the North.”
“The north?” Dany looked at him with her brows knitted together in confusion. “From who?”
“Our new guests of course. This one is for you Dany.” He handed her a dress before turning to you. “And this…..is for you. Pretty isn’t it? Feel the fabric, fine wool from the north.”
You gave Viserys a quizzical look before eyeing the bundled up dress that was draped over his arms with much skepticism.
“Well go on. Touch it.”
You reached a hesitant hand towards the dress, twisting the dark gray fibered fabric that was trimmed with embroidery between your fingers with a distasteful look on your face. “It’s rough.”
“That’s because it’s wool. It’s meant to keep you warm against the cold.”
“But why? It’s not cold here.”
"Because dear sister.” Viserys moved a loose strand of your hair behind your ear before placing his fingers under your chin with a smugness hidden behind the fraud paternal gaze that masked it. “You are getting married.”
Your face paled in reaction, your eyes widening at his words while every inch of your skin turned cold.
“M-married?” Daenerys stuttered in disbelief, her voice small, afraid to raise her tone at him in fear he’d lash out like he had many times before to keep her amenable. The violets of her eyes which were usually bright, now grew dark and flickered with the thoughts that ran through her head. “To who?”
“A wealthy lord in the north. Well,” He rolled his eyes in disappointment. “Not wealthy enough but still. He paid quite the price for this one. Now she can finally be off my hands.” Viserys stared down at you with coldness in his gaze, his grip on your chin only getting tighter as his nails started to dig in to the skin there, causing you to wince. There was something behind the pale lilacs of his eyes that mirrored just a flicker of the past, of your father, The Mad King. You had never met your father, for he had died before you were even born. But you had heard plenty of stories through Viserys and others, and you could have sworn you saw that same madness in your brother in this very moment. But there was also something else that you couldn’t quite put a name to, something you were still too young to quite understand even though the sense of it unsettled you. It was a look that you had often seen whenever he was in the presence of Dany. Though there was that same bit of lust hidden behind them that he shared for Dany, a look that disgusted you whenever he glanced upon your sister, there was also contempt, a hatred that only filled them in your presence despite the brotherly smile he put on.
“The north? You’re sending her to the north? You-you can’t.” You heard Dany whimper beside you while you glared back at Viserys, your nails digging into the skin of your palms.
“I’ll do as I please. And this one is going to do as it is told. Aren’t you half-breed?”
“But you can’t.” Daenerys pleaded. “She’s only 12. She’s just a child.”
"And so are you. Quiet Daenerys.” Viserys snapped at her before turning back to you. “You. Undress, now. I need to make sure Lord Pythias is getting his coin’s worth.”
“But-” You quivered.
“Now. Before I do it myself.”
Your hands trembled as they fumbled with the buttons of your dress, tears forming in your eyes as you did not want to bare yourself in front of your brother. You were filled with resentment towards him, your fingers itching to claw those foul eyes out from his skull so that he could never look upon you or Dany ever again. But your fear had overcome your anger, and so you did not have the strength nor the courage to do such a thing. “Viserys please don’t make me do this.” Your lip quivered as you lowered your gaze to the floor, your hands clutching your dress over your chest once it dropped down your shoulders.
“Viserys please.” Daenerys begged, pulling on the sleeve of your brother’s tunic. "Marry me off. But not y/n.”
“Quiet Daenerys.”
“You can’t do this! She’s all that I have left. Please don’t send her away!” Your sister cried out, the sound of desperation in her voice stopping you from letting your dress fall to the floor.
“I said quiet!” Viserys hit her with the back of his hand, causing Dany to tear up as she held her reddened cheek.
You fumed at the sight of him striking out at her, your nostrils flaring and your breathing quickening. You don’t know what came over you as you bared your teeth and attacked your older brother in blind fury, it was almost as if all that abuse that you had endured, bottled up inside had finally boiled over. “Don’t touch her!”
Viserys was caught off guard of you lunging yourself at him as he watched you with wide eyes. His hands were held out in front of him as he tried to fight you off until you brought your hand down at him and scratched him across his face.
“Agh! ……….You hit me. Why you little bitch.” He stood stunned for a moment from the stinging pain on his cheek, touching his face to see blood on his fingertips.
You stepped back in a mixture of fear and disbelief, coming into realization of what you had just done. “Viserys p-please. I’m-I’m sorry.”
“How dare you! You little half-breed whore!” Viserys’s face distorted into rage as he threw you to the ground and hovered over your form, pinning you down while repeatedly hitting you across your face with the back of his hand. You cried out in pain from his violent strikes, writhing under him as the ring that he wore on one of his fingers sliced across your face in small cuts. “You’ve made a big mistake you little slut! You have woken the dragon! And now you’re going to pay for it!”
“Viserys stop! Please!” Dany cried out as she fell to her knees with tears streaming down her face as she tried to reach out for you.
“What in the name of Westeros is going on in here?” A loud booming voice was heard approaching the area.
Viserys stopped with an annoyed expression, turning towards the door to see Illyrio Mopatis appear in the room. “What?”
“Have you lost your senses? Lord Pyhtias wants her untouched, not a single mark on her. What will he think when he sees this?” Illyrio huffed once he saw you pinned beneath your brother, your skin flushed scarlet with small drops of blood trickling out from the tiny cuts that lined your face, along with a deeper cut that had formed on your lips. You squeezed your eyes shut against the tears that ran down the sides of your face and burned against your newly formed wounds while you held your arms up to shield you.
“The little bitch opened her mouth.” Viserys got off you and stood to his feet, looking down at your shivering form with pure disgust before calmly telling Illyrio. “I’ll just tell Lord Pythias the bitch fell down some steps. After all, her being a virgin is what matters to him most.”
“Heavens sake. Get her cleaned up and dressed. They should be here any moment.” Illyrios voiced, shrugging the whole thing off before walking away.
“Get her dressed and ready Dany.” Viserys ordered with a clenched jaw. “And you, half-breed, do not disappoint me, or else I’ll have Pythias and his men take their turns with you in front of the whole city to get what I want.”
Daenerys quietly watched him leave the room before rushing over to your side, her face filled with worry as she helped you up from the floor. “Shh it’s okay y/n. I have you.”
You sobbed into your sisters shoulder, tears pouring down your face as she cradled your trembling form in her arms, rocking you back and forth and softly singing you a lullaby while tears streamed down her face as well. The both of you were hurt, terrified, and neither of you wanted to let go knowing what was to happen.
The wedding had come much sooner than you had wanted as you stood in the dining hall with your sister and Viserys beside you, waiting for your future husband to arrive. Both you and Daenerys wore the dresses gifted to you, the heavy fabric of the north scratching against your skin, something that you were not at all accustomed to from being in the weather of Essos. Your face had been washed off of the blood, and though the wounds were not deep, the pain of it was still there, stinging beneath the clear ointment that your sister had applied. Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, nor was there a single thought amongst them as you stared out at the tile floor of the hall. You prayed to the gods for some miracle, anything, wanting it to be the sudden death of Lord Pythias and his men, wishing for a great storm to come and bury his ship at the bottom of the sea and drown those that sailed it. But the gods worked not in your favor, for just a few moments later, one of the servants entered to announce the arrival of the Northerners.
You blinked out of your lifeless daze, looking up from the ground from the feeling of your sister’s hand grabbing yours. And as you looked towards her profile, you saw a frown sitting on her lips. Her skin which was normally pale, was now almost as white as the hair that sat on her delicate head. You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it quickly after sensing Viserys straighten up beside you.
“Remember what I told you sweet sister.” You heard him say in your ear. “You wouldn’t want all his men having you for themselves now would you. After all, one word from me and I’m sure Lord Pythias would be more than eager to act upon it.”
“No.”
“No what?” He clenched his jaw, his hand tightly pinching the flesh of your arm and causing you to wince. “I need you to be clear.”
“I promise I’ll obey.”
“Good.” Viserys smiled with a nod in approval as he retuned his hand back to his side. “It’s a good thing you and Dany are pretty, even though you’re just a half-breed. I would sell the two of you to every man in the world and let them fuck you if it meant me getting the throne.”
“May the gods gift you a crown of fire.” You muttered under your breath.
“What was that?” Viserys hissed.
“I said, dear brother, may the gods gift you a crown of fire. A crown fit for a dragon, for fire cannot kill a dragon.”
“A crown of fire fit for a dragon.” Viserys smirked at the thought, his eyes glossed over with his own delusional ambitions, oblivious to the darker meaning you had behind it, and that you had meant it more as a prayer of vengeance that the gods might soon fulfill rather than a tribute to his honor. “I like that. I hope that you might one day see it dear sister, to see me with the crown I so rightfully deserve.”
The three of you turned at the sound of scattered footsteps echoing off the walls, the clicking of boots tapping against the floor like hooves against dirt, getting louder and louder. And as you looked towards the entrance with panic written in your eyes, you saw a group of men enter the hall led by a short older, rather stout looking individual in the front with another man walking beside him. Their clothes were dark and gray, devoid of any color and character, a stark difference to the vibrance of Essos that you were so accustomed to. The boots of the men were still caked with the mud from the North, tracking the dirt all over the floors as they went. And they carried with them their house banner, a symbol of a boar. Your fingers tightened around the cold hand of your sister, your jaw clenching as you watched the man leading them get closer and closer to where you stood with your siblings, his form swaying with each heavy step until finally stopping in front of Viserys.
“Lord Pythias.” Your brother nodded his head respectfully. “It’s an honor to have you join us.”
“The pleasure is all mine Viserys!” Lord Pythias patted your brother’s shoulder before gesturing to the man that had remained at his side since you saw them enter through the doors. “This here is my personal bodyguard and advisor Sir Bjorn Maurinus from Braavos.” Lord Pythias spoke in a voice that was throaty and wheezy, as if he were struggling with each line he spoke, the sound unpleasant to the ears and what one would describe as the snorting of a hog.
The man whom Pythias had just introduced remained unmoving, giving Viserys just the slightest nod that barely went noticed. Bjorn Maurinus was a tall man of a lean figure of age 47, and there was a certain sharpness about his stature from the hook of his nose to the deep browns of his eyes that made you curiously drawn to his character, for there was not a single sign of emotion nor change of expression in the impassiveness of his face in the time that he was there. Your eyes caught the glint of the handle that belonged to his sword that sat at his hip, and as you lowered your gaze, you noticed that his left leg had been cut off below the knee, where a wooden limb had now replaced it. Bjorn had noticed you staring at his wooden leg, and with an unpleasant twist of his thin lips and a scowl in your direction, he pulled his cloak over to cover it.
“Well well well, this must be my new bride.” You heard Pythias draw out his words, looking over to see him disgustingly leer at you with a lick of his pale and chapped lips, the way a predator would his meal. His irises were a dull gray, lacking any sign of warmth or compassion in them, reminding you of the blades of daggers and swords that were used to cut down men. And his eyes themselves were toad-like, sitting far apart from each other on his face and bulging out of their sockets.
“Indeed. Come sweet sister.” Viserys waved you over. “This is my youngest sister y/n. Your new bride-to-be. What do you think?”
“She’s pretty, really pretty.” Lord Pythias came over to grab your jaw, lifting and turning your face to each side as if he were inspecting cattle. It took everything in you to not flinch and shrivel away, even the mere smell of him made you feel ill. And now that his face was a mere inches from yours, the sight of him disgusted and horrified you. Viserys had noticed the way you recoiled and in response grabbed you with a flare of his nostrils, gripping your arm firmly between his grasp to keep you in place. From the pressure Viserys was applying around your arms, you were sure the prints of his hand would leave a bruise in its place. Lord Pythias was much older than you, a man in his 50s with thinning hair whom you thought had no business marrying a girl of your age. You could tell that he had not bathed in days, the smell of him was absolutely rancid and turned the contents of your stomach making you feel nauseous. He reeked of ale and beer and it was evident in his breath from the way he breathed so heavily on your face. And from the way the whites of his eyes and his skin tinted of yellow, it was clear that he drank often. His hands had not been washed either for there was dirt underneath his fingernails as you could feel the grime on them just by him touching you, and you were definite they would leave a trace once he removed his fleshy fingers from your face. “Her face is cut up.” Lord Pythias gave a disapproving look.
“Yes, well,” Viserys cleared his throat, “my dear sister can be quite graceless at times and fell down some steps.”
“Hmph. I wanted her pretty for the ceremony. Is she a virgin?”
“Oh of course, she hasn’t been touched by a single man, I made sure of it. I’m sure your lordship finds that agreeable.”
“Oh yes.” The man smiled at that. “And what of her figure? Has she grown into her womanly curves?”
“No, not yet, she turned twelve just a few months ago.”
“Good. Good. I’ll take her.” Lord Pythias dropped his hands from your face before turning to his bodyguard. “Bjorn, hand Viserys his gold.”
You watched with unsteady breaths, your heart pounding in your chest as if it were to burst through this very second and leave you dead in order to save itself as you fixed your gaze on the leather pouch that contained your weight in gold be handed over to your brother. Tears threatened to spill from the corner of your eyes and your knees trembled beneath the skirt of your gown. It felt as if your legs were in the process of giving out underneath you, and if it weren’t for your sister, your surely would have collapsed to the floor. You felt powerless, trapped between the walls that would soon become your life. The gold was a declaration of your imprisonment, an emblem of your dying freedom, and there was not a single thing left to save you now.
“Perfect.” Viserys smiled, weighing the pouch of gold in his palms. “Illyrios, bring in the guests will you. It’s time that my sister got married.”
The wedding ceremony had been short and forthright, not a single ounce of elaborateness or emotion in it as you were cloaked and joined at the hands for the tying of the ribbon. It all seemed like a fever dream as it passed, just a blur of the senses as you now sat at the dining table for the feast. Lord Pythias had been seated beside you, drunk from his many glasses of wine and howling with laughter as he shouted boisterously amongst his peers while Sir Bjorn Maurinus sat quietly on your right. You had not touched your food during the whole feast, your face wooden as your stared down at your plate, occasionally flinching in repulsion each time that Lord Pythias placed his meaty hands on your thighs. You found yourself staring time and time again at the knife that was placed on the table in front of you, lined up perfectly with the other silverware, the silver glinting across your eyes in a beam of light. You found yourself drawn to it, as if it were calling out your name for that sweet escape, just that quick swipe of the blade and it would be over, all of it. It had not even been more than two hours in the time that you were married, and you already dreaded it, wanting nothing more than to end it here, right now. As if suddenly overtaken by a trance, you found yourself reaching for the knife, closing your fingers around the cool metal until a voice stopped you.
“What do you think you are doing?” Sir Bjorn’s spoke from beside you, his voice thick with the accent of Braavos from the roll of his r’s.
“I’m-I was going to eat.”
“The girl lies. That’s a load of horseshit if I’ve ever heard one.” Sir Bjorn pulled the goblet to his lips, taking a sip of the dark wine. “I know that look girl.”
“I-I don’t know what you mean.” You turned towards him only for him to prevent you for doing so.
“Don’t. Keep your head forward. Now tell me. A girl turns 12 and weds a cunt old enough to be the father of her father. You had not touched your food since it was placed before you. You and I both know what your intentions are.”
“Is it so wrong then? It’s my life to take.”
“The girl wishes to die then.”
“…………Yes. I-I don’t want to live through the wedding night.”
“So. The girl wishes to die and never see her sister again, instead of fighting and living to see another day.”
“If I fight, I put my sister at risk.”
“Not if the girl dances with her enemies.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the girl is patient, she can live to see another day.”
“How?”
“One step at a time.”
You caught slight movement at the corner of your vision, shifting your eyes ever so slightly to see Sir Bjorn lower his hand to offer you a small vial.
“Take this. Keep it in the folds of your sleeves. And do not let a single soul see it. Understand?”
“What is it?” You dropped your hand to your side, making sure to keep your eyes forward as you took the small glass vial in your hand,, feeling the contents swirl inside as you stuffed it in the sleeve of your wedding dress.
“When he takes you to his chambers on his ship tonight, offer him a glass of wine and pour a drop in. It will keep him unconscious until sunrise and he will not remember a thing.”
“And then what? How long am I supposed to keep up with this act?” You questioned, but to no avail, for when you turned to look at him, he had returned to his meal and avoided your gaze, his face once again that unreadable expression as if the conversation had never happened.
The sun had started to set upon the horizon, casting the sky in brushstrokes of reds and oranges that reflected against the waters of the earth, painting the sea the color of blood as far as you could see. The scene almost looked ominous as you stood by the docks, waiting for Lord Pythias’s men to board the ship until it would eventually be your turn to step onto the wooden plank that lead to it. The cloak that Lord Pythias had gifted you was wrapped over your shoulder, the furs of the collar tickling against your cheek from the light breeze as you huddled against Daenerys, the two of you holding on to each other as if it was the last thing left of your mortality.
“I don’t want to go.” You stared out, scowling at the sight of Viserys and Lord Pythias laughing with each other, the two men that singlehandedly ruined your very existence and will to live.
“I know.” Daenerys spoke softly. She had tried so desperately to not weep in front of you, but it came to a point that she could no longer hold back the tears as they poured down her face.
“Daenerys……if I don’t make it back.”
“What are you on about?”
“I’m being serious.” You turned to her with tears in your eyes. “By the time the ship sails, I will be on my way to the North. None of us have been there, and it is far from here. Gods know what will happen to me. I might never see you again.”
“Don’t say that.” Daenerys shook her head frantically as she held you tighter. “The gods will bring us back together.”
“You don’t know that!” You snapped. “You-you don’t know that. Gods. I-I-can’t do this. I can’t get married to him.”
“Y/n!” Viserys voice rang out as he called out to you. “It’s time for you to go to your new home!”
New home. You scoffed at the thought. You were positive your new home would end up becoming the death of you. You stared into the violets of your sister’s eyes with widened eyes of your own, watching the tears roll down her pale cheeks before throwing yourself in her arms and sobbing into them. “Daenerys, I can’t do this alone. I can’t do this without you.”
“Y/n. Y/n.” Viserys’s voice became louder as he walked up to the two of you with an annoyed expression on his face. “It’s time to go. You wouldn’t want to keep your husband waiting now would you?”
“No. I don’t want to be his wife.”
“Y/n, what did I tell you.”
“Brother please.” You tried to reason with him but yelped in pain as he grabbed a fistful of your hair.
“Listen here you little half-breed cunt!” Viserys hissed as he pulled at your hair to make you look at him.
“Ow! Viserys you’re hurting me.” You clawed at his hands to free yourself from his grip.
“I don’t give a damn! That man paid good money for you. And you’re going to keep him happy by being his little whore, or I swear on my mother’s grave, I will let you rot in the North while every single man there fucks you like the little bitch that you are, and you will never see your sister again!” Viserys snarled in your ear before ripping you away from Daenerys and dragging you away to the ship by the back of your dress.
“Y/n! Viserys please!” Daenerys fell to her knees as she watched you get further and further away from her reach.
“Dany!” You craned your head back to look at your sister, your cheeks wet with your tears as your feet struggled to keep up with Viserys’s steps.
“This is your last warning half-breed.” Viserys stood you on the deck of Lord Pythias’s ship. “There is no one there to protect you now. Do I have your word?“
You stared up at your brother, seeing the coldness in his eyes. "Yes. You have my word.”
Viserys smiled at your answer, pushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ears before stroking your cheek with his finger. “Good. That is all I ever wanted sweet sister, your obedience and your loyalty. I promise, when I am king, I will bring you back home so that you, Dany and I could finally be together, where we belong.”
For a moment, you swore you saw that old part of Viserys, of what used to be your kinder, younger brother who did everything that he could to take care of Dany and you. You fluttered your eyes closed against your tears as Viserys placed a soft and lingering kiss to your forehead, your body aching with the emotions that filled you as you watched your brother step back onto the dock.
“Lady y/n.” You heard Sir Bjorn step up beside you. “Right this way please.”
You followed the man to the end of the ship, stepping onto the back deck as the ship started to set sail. It felt as if you no longer had the ability to cry, the tears that had streamed down your face just a second ago, now dried up from the air as you stared out at where your sister stood next to Viserys on the dock. Your expression matched hers as the wind blew against you, blowing back the braid that Dany had done that morning as you clutched the cloak closer to your frame. The ship started to sway beneath your feet against the waves as it began to set sail, leaving the shores of Pentos. The glass vial felt heavy in your sleeve as you stood unmoving, your eyes never leaving your sisters as she became smaller and smaller the further out you went into the sea until she became just a speck in the horizon. And when you could no longer see any remaining sign of her, of the one person you cared about, you turned away, not knowing if you would get out alive to ever see her again.
Darkling/General Kirigan/Aleksander Morozova x Targaryen!Reader
Shadow and Bone x Game of Thrones Crossover, maybe even Lord of the Rings added in there.
A/N: Hello lovelies! This is just something I plan on working on pretty soon here. Let me know if you are interested in the idea and would like to be added to the tag list!
Notes: slow burn, angst, enemies to lovers trope
Summary: Imagine being the youngest Targaryen and the half-sister of Daenerys. You had lived most of your life in captivity, shut off from the world especially after your brother Viserys married you off to an old lord at the age of 12 as means to get rid of you for being a half-breed. You used to be a bright and free-spirited child who saw nothing but the goodness in those around you, but the experiences you faced made you grow cold and distant with a lack of remorse for the wicked. Not wanting to live the life your brother had chained you to, you ran away and finally reunited with your sister, acting as her right-hand and her most trusted advisor and helping her win back the throne. (Season 8 never happened) But after all you had went through in your early years, you yearned for a life of your own; your own journey and your own path, something you could work and build towards with your own hands. So you set sail across the seas with your dragons and with soldiers of your own, traveling far and wide before venturing into foreign land in a place called Ravka where you stumble upon a kingdom with a king who you end up despising, believing him undeserving of rule. During your stay there, you cross paths with a certain raven-haired general with aspirations of his own. Will you stand alongside him in his mission, or will you take the throne for your own and rule as Y/N Targaryen, the Dragon Witch Queen of Ravka?
Summary: Your relationship with General Kirigan only exists after the sun goes down and you begin to wonder whether he loves you beyond the night calls. Before you can find out Kirigan’s true feelings, you’re tied up and thrown into the back of a van.
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: Human trafficking, forced drug use and a lot of non-consensual stuff. Please don’t read if you get triggered by anything of that nature, it gets pretty dark.
A/N: This is heavily inspired by Taken. Don’t @ me
Consider buying me a coffee. I hate to ask but I’m currently struggling with uni expenses while trying to save up to estrange myself. Anything you can donate would be super appreciated but no worries if not. <3
* = smut
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One shots
Envy* - Kirigan gets jealous and roughly fucks you against the wall
Eyes so Bright* - Tangled AU and innocence kink. You escape your tower and Kirigan is more than happy to show you everythinglife has to offer
Kinktober - orgasm control* - While away on business, Kirigan gives you strict orders not to touch yourself. He comes home early only to catch you in the middle of disobeying him
Series
Dust till Dawn* - You’re not sure what your relationship to Kirigan is. But when you’re kidnapped, you find out just how much you mean to him
Warnings: Praise kink, size kink, mentions of semi public sex, bit of a choking kink, bit of manipulation (come on guys, this is the darkling here), mild self esteem issues.
After a night of drinks with friends in a strange country, you let a tall, dark and handsome stranger take you home. The next morning, you discover you slept with a super star.
You tried not to make a sound as you scouted the bedroom for your underwear. The early morning glow filtering through the blinds that in your enthusiasm you had failed to close, provided you with barely enough light to find your sparkly dress, but your cream colored panties, so close in shade to the plush carpet under your feet, were another thing completely. Giving up, you sighed, getting up from the floor. It was useless, the panties were probably as ruined as the torn thighs in your hands anyway. Tall, dark and handsome please-call-me-Sasha had been very thorough in his wreckage of you the night before.
Leaving such a path of destruction behind was apparently, exhausting, because said man was currently snoring softly, hugging his pillow, looking far too innocent for someone who had done such wicked things to you in that very same bed -not to mention the elevator, or the ride home, or the bathroom bar before that- not even a handful of hours ago, and far too beautiful for your poor heart. Tearing your eyes away from that angelic sight was almost as hard as tearing yourself from his arms five minutes before, but you forced yourself to do it. He wasn’t yours to keep, and though he had been very passionate about you last night, who knew what his reaction to you would be in the harsh light of day.
You told yourself it wasn’t cowardice, you simply would rather to keep your memory of him and your perfect one night stand like that, perfect than have it tainted by the regret in his face when he woke up to… well, you. You also told yourself it wasn’t a self esteem issue either, you considered yourself an average, moderately attractive woman. The thing was, he wasn’t moderately attractive. He was drop dead, hollywoodesque, carved by the gods cliché level of hot.
Yes, better to save yourself and him the awkwardness of the morning after and leaving before he woke up. Besides, you had a day full of bridesmaid duty ahead of you, the sooner you could get back to your hotel, the better.
If only you could find your other boot…
And maybe a hoodie or something to borrow, you didn’t mind (much) the walk home in last night’s dress, but you didn’t really fancy to freeze in the glaciar air of Ravkan early spring mornings either.
It looked like divine providence when you located both items in the reading nook by the window, all you needed to do was navigate around Sasha’s side of the bed without waking him, and the task didn’t seem a difficult one, considering all you had to do was walking barefoot on a very plushy rug to the other side of the room. In a couple of seconds, your treasure was within reach and you were bending down to grab your elusive left boot, grey knitted hoodie already in hand, when you saw it.
There, greater than life, staring right back at you through the windowpane from a gigantic billboard across the street, was your one night stand’s face. Sure, the hair was longer, darker and the beard was thicker but there was no possible mistake, no chance of it being a simple, if uncanny, resemblance. Not when that face sported the same cupid’s bow, the same onix eyes, hell, the same freaking beauty mark under his left eye. And it was really dramatic too, his tall figure, all clad in black in medieval period clothes, huge green characters against a dark background announcing “Aleksandr Morozov is The Dark One”. Your limited knowledge of the Cyrillic alphabet prevented you from reading the name of the movie but one thing was clear: This wasn’t a small or independent production, this was big, this was mainstream, a lot of money had to be involved for such a massive sized campaign. And for him to be the focus of it, for his name, albeit unknown to you, to be advertised like that, as big as the name of the movie, it could only mean that his name had weight, that it was as important as the movie or show they were promoting.
You had slept with a freaking movie star.
Suddenly, the luxury surrounding you was so conspicuous, so glaringly obvious you wondered how you hadn’t noticed before. The soft hoodie in your hands was high quality cashmere, the luscious carpet under your feet probably real fur, the books lining the bookshelves, precious first editions.
Jesus, had the opulent car that had taken you there the night before been his car, his chauffeur instead of an Uber ride like you had originally thought?
You were so stunned, so lost in thought, you didn’t even notice your date was awake, until a hand shot through the air, quick as a whip, catching your wrist.
In two movements, you were flat on the bed, sleepy, irresistibly disheveled, completely naked Aleksandr Morozov hovering over you.
“Where do you think you’re going, malyshka?"
In complete disconnect from your still short circuiting brain, melting twice over because he was there, so handsome and so close -and had you mentioned, naked?- you opened your mouth.
"You’re famous"
A beat of silence. Then two. Until he finally grinned, easy and charming and handsome as the devil.
"I am. Is that a problem?"
He said it casually, smirk still firm on his face, but his eyes betrayed him. There was something guarded, something almost sad about them then, something that made your gut twist with guilt, your cheeks heat with embarrassment.
"No, of course not!” You scoffed, searching for the right words to reassure, to comfort.
But he was already over it, if the way he dived to kiss your neck was any indication, as the hand not braced against the mattress stroked the contours of your body, skimming the side of your breast, caressing the curve of your hip, splaying on the outside of your thigh, down and down until his fingers found your knee, hooking on the back of it to bend your leg around his slim hips as they pushed your thighs apart.
“I- I have to go…” You stammered as his hand found its way to the inside of your thigh.
“Do you, now?” Was that amusement in his voice?
“Yes. Ana, my friend, is getting married the day after tomorrow and I can’t just bail on her when-” He swallowed the rest of your sentence, kissing you, open mouthed and slow, managing to make it dirty and sweet at the same time. Sensual.
You couldn’t remember anyone kissing you quite like that before, with such artistry, such abandon. As if the kiss wasn’t a preamble or a means to an end, but a sexual act in and of itself.
“You taste like my toothpaste” He growled into your mouth, before slipping his tongue past your lips again, chasing the flavor, hips undulating against yours so languidly, so softly, you doubted he was even aware he was doing it.
You hated yourself for ending the kiss even as your lungs burned from lack of oxygen, but as you broke it and let air fill your lungs, so did your head fill with clarity and you remembered the long day of bridesmaid duty you had ahead of you.
“Im sorry, I really am” You lamented, sincerely, “I’d love nothing more than staying and spending the morning with you, but I really have to go”
Aleksander didn’t seem to hear it, though, staring intently at you, index finger tracing the line of your brow, the bridge of your nose, your cheekbone, as if trying to commit your face to memory.
“Sasha? Sasha! Are you even listening to me?”
Aleksander shook his head,
“Sorry” He didn’t sound sorry at all, “It’s just, you are truly beautiful in the daylight”
You felt your cheeks get warm again, so you buried your face against his neck, the way his breath hitched not escaping your notice. So, his neck was sensitive, interesting.
No, you couldn’t let yourself get distracted again. You had to return to your life, had to get out of there before things could get any further. It was one thing to sleep with the sexiest man you had ever met under cover of darkness, with alcohol blurring his perception and your inhibitions. To let him fuck you completely sober in broad daylight was an entire different beast.
“I mean it, Sasha, I have to go”
He let his whole body weight fall on you, trapping you under him.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you go, malyshka” He replied, not looking at you anymore, focused instead on the place where his hands were pushing up your already short dress till it was indecently bunched around your hips.
“Why not?” You questioned, even as you let his fingers slide between your legs, find the wetness already seeping there for him. He didn’t comment on your lack of underwear, which made you suspect he knew exactly what had happened to your panties and their whereabouts.
“Because” He started as his index and middle fingers grazed your slit, coating them on your slick before coming up to rub circles on your clit, a rhythmic, electrifying friction sending sparks up your abdomen in record time, “I’m supposed to be dating my co-star, and as much as I like this pretty little dress of yours, if a paparazzi or a fan sees you leave my house in it, we’ll both be in big trouble…"
Your hand was on his wrist in an instant, trying, inefficiently, to halt his movements.
"Wait, you have a girlfriend??”
“It’s not real, moya malyshka” He appeased, soothingly petting your head in a deeply patronizing gesture, “it’s all make believe, publicity for the show”
Offended by his condescension, you batted the hand still patting your hair away, but he chose that moment to breach your entrance, just barely, only burying his fingers to the first knuckle, yet enough to send a wave of pleasure through your lower belly.
“I’m only asking you to have a little patience,” You tried to focus on his words but it was really hard when he kept teasing your entrance like that, penetrating you less than an inch at a time and withdrawing his fingers again, only to caress your labia, your slit, your clit with a butterfly’s wing pressure. “Just wait here until I can call my assistant to bring you some casual clothes, so if someone sees you leave here, at least it won’t be so obvious you spent the night…” He rolled your clit between the pads of his fingertips then, making your eyes roll back. “Just a couple of hours, what do you say, pretty girl? I promise I’ll make it worth your while…”
It did sound like a logical course of action, you were sure that made sense, or as much sense you could make of something with his hands driving you to distraction like that.
“Just… just a couple of hours?” It was pretty early anyway, your friends would probably sleep till noon, nursing their own hangovers, they wouldn’t even notice your absence.
“Just a handful of hours” He brought his thumb to the mix, ghosting it over your most sensitive nub of nerves.
“Oh… ok” You sighed, giving in.
“There’s a good girl” You could hear the smirk in his voice but couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when he rewarded you by burying his fingers inside you to the hilt wasting no time in starting to pump them in and out, thumb rubbing at your clit expertly, multiplying your pleasure to eleven right then and there. He seemed to relish in the noises leaving your throat, whispering praises in your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. “That’s it, just like that, let me take care of you. I can make it good for you… let me make it good for you…”
“Yes…”
His strokes changed then, exploring, searching your tight, wet heat for something. You knew the moment he found it because sparks exploded behind your eyelids, making you whimper and moan, and writhe. He pinned your hips to the bed with his other hand, keeping you in place as he intensified his assault, picking up the pace.
It was almost embarrassing, how quickly you had become such a mess in his hands.
“So beautiful… so responsive… God, you’re perfect"
You had never been one for praise kink, but his words in that voice, so deliciously husky with desire, was doing something to you. Something that obliterated your brain function better than any drink ever did.
"Yeah, just like that… ride my hand just like that, looks so sexy… Fucking sexiest thing I have ever seen…"
You had no idea when you had started following the movements of his fingers with your hips but you were glad he liked it; you didn’t think you could stop if you tried, you were too close, too far gone.
"Wanna see you ride my cock just like that… think you can do that for me, malyshka?”
You nodded not really processing his words, you would have done anything he asked of you at that moment, that was why it was so disorienting to suddenly find your positions reversed, with him laying on the bed on his back, and you manhandled until you were straddling his lap.
“Are you ready for it, malyshka?”
A quick look down told you you weren’t. Objectively, you knew you had already managed it the night before, but you hadn’t seen it. Now, faced with the dimensions, the sheer girth of the appendage he called his dick, you froze.
Obviously, Aleksander noticed your hesitation.
“I know, printsessa, I know. It’s too big for you isn’t it?"
You felt yourself nodding, eyes drawn back to where his hand was stroking his length leisurely. You had the distinct impression he was showing off for you. Bastard.
"But you can take it, I know you can. You took it so well last night…” There it was again, that damned praising that made you want to do anything he said, fly yourself to the moon and back, only to get to hear that sinful voice call you a good girl again. So you let him notch the flared head of his cock to your entrance but didnt push inside, letting you take control, take your time, which you were grateful for because the stretch of his tip alone felt like almost too much, soaked and eager as you were.
You lowered yourself slowly, feeling every inch, every ridge and vein, watching in satisfaction as his eyes rolled back inside his head, as his hands flew to your asscheeks like he needed the purchase. Like he was as affected as you were. The little groans leaving his mouth motivated you to keep going whenever the strain threatened to be too much, until you were sat flush to his pelvis. You took a moment, then, as much to get used to him, to the feeling of being filled to the brim by his massive cock, as to center yourself.
When you finally felt ready to start moving, you opened your eyes to find him staring up at you, slack-jawed, as if awestruck, as if he couldn’t believe such a tight fit either. Rocking your hips just a little proved enough for his mouth to fall open completely, the most pornographic sound you had ever heard resonating through the room and searing itself onto your brain.
This man was going to be the death of you.
“Just like that… fuck, you feel so good”
You wanted to tell him the same, wanted to tell him how incredible his cock felt inside of you but your voice was stuck in your throat, mouth open, fixed in a silent oh. Your silence didn’t deter him though, because he kept whispering dirty nothings as your hips picked up their rhythm, hands grabbing at your thighs, your ass, your hips, everywhere he could reach that was unimpeded by your dress, adding fuel to the fire already burning low on your belly thanks to the maddening friction of his pubic hair scraping your sensitive clit as you rocked on top of him.
It wasn’t enough.
To be stuffed full of him, to have his mesmerized attention, his hands on you. No, you were greedy, hungry. You wanted more. You wanted everything.
So you took the hem of your sequined dress and lift it over yourself, revealing all of your body to Aleksanders ravenous gaze.
“Ara, moya malyshka… yes, take it all off!” Aleksanders hands flew immediately to your ribcage, traveling up to seize your breasts, squeezing the handfuls and making your head fall back in pleasure. “I knew youd look beautiful sitting on my cock, krasotka…”
“Sasha…” You managed to plead.
“Do you need something, malyshka?”
You nodded.
“Do you need more? Do you need me to fuck you?”
“Yes” you were not above begging, “Sasha, please…”
He didn’t reply with words, instead, he snaked an arm around your back, holding you to him as he sat up and started moving you up and down his cock one handed, the other cupping your face, holding you in place as he devoured your lips. Your own fingers searched, blindly, gripping at his dark locks, trapping him as much as he was trapping you, if only to have something to brace yourself against the slight sting of being stretched almost to your limit, the abrasion of his cock pistoning in and out of you, reaching deep, impossible deeper with every upward thrust.
“Sasha…” You exhaled into his mouth, and he breathed it in, as drunk with passion as you felt, little moans in tandem with yours.
You could feel it building already, every impact of his thighs against your ass, of his pubic bone against your clit hurtling you up higher and higher, a climb that almost frightened you, you weren’t sure you would survive the fall.
But there was no stopping it, no way to fight it, not when Aleksander let go of your mouth just to lock his lips around one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling with far less skill, far less self control than he had shown as he fingers you open, biting on your little nub with enough force to hurt, to really send a sharp pang of pain that echoed through your body mixing and blurring with the pleasure until you didn’t know which was which, until you didn’t know if you wanted to lean into it or get away.
The decision was made for you (or maybe there was never a decision to make) anyway, as his thrusts found that elusive little spot his fingers had already conquered before, and you were falling, abruptly and unprepared, coming with such force you thought you’d might break apart, come undone at the seams, shattered by the force of an orgasm so powerful even Aleksander felt it, hissing at the vice like grip of your cunt strangling his cock as your climax rippled through you.
“Fuck! Just like that, come all over my cock, Malyshka, give it to me, let me feel it…"
You could tell he was close too, his movements faster, more erratic and found that you wanted it, wanted to feel him come inside you, feel him fall apart with you.
So you reach out, wrapping your hands around his neck, and squeezed, crushing his pipeline, until his words were nothing more than an unintelligible wheezing, until his eyes widened and his face went red with lack of oxygen.
Until you felt his cock pulsate inside you and the liquid warmth of his come paint your womb.
You collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, chest to chest, heartbeats pounding in unison, both shipwrecked by the intensity of what had just happened.
"You know,” You panted, after a few minutes, “If your evil masterplan was using sex to stop me from leaving… it totally worked, I can’t even move my legs’‘
His only response was a far too self satisfied laugh.
***
"Are you sure, Ivan?”
You were standing naked on the heated tiles of Aleksander’s bathroom, tapping away on your phone as he ran a bath for both of you (you had insisted on a shower at first since it would have been quicker, but one glance at his colossal labradorite bathtub had obliterated all your resistance). The entire bridal party had watched you leave the impromptu Bachelorette’s with “the Aleksandr Morozov lookalike” and were now demanding details, the dirtier the better.
“… and there isn’t anything you can do? Well, can’t you ask Alina for help?”
That name you did know: Alina Starkova’s face was everywhere, starring in the campaigns of every luxury brand from Bvlgari to Lancome. You simply had thought she was a new supermodel, up until half an hour ago you had no idea she was an actress, let alone Sasha’s co-star and fake girlfriend.
That you were absolutely not jealous of. No, if the name made you lift your eyes from your phone screen, it was mere interest. No pang of annoyance or anything else remotely unpleasant. That was ridiculous, you didn’t even know the woman.
Aleksander was pacing the bathroom, as naked as you but somehow managing to still look regal af, even as he closed his eyes and pinched at the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Fine. No, seriously, it’s ok…” the rest of his sentence was spoken in a ravkan so fast you had no hope of translating, but when he was done, he put his own phone away and turned to you.
“Was that your assistant?"
"Yeah, Ivan” He confirmed, sighing, “I’m sorry, malyshka, but apparently there’s a handful of paparazzi camping on my doorstep, I’ll have to ask you to stay a little while longer while we figure out what to do about them” He sounded sincerely apologetic, “You don’t have to say yes, of course, and I would never force you to stay, but you would really, really spare me a scandal if you do"
You frowned, and his face fell even further.
"You keep calling me that, but I don’t know what it means”
It was his turn to frown a little, in confusion,
“What? Malyshka?”
You nodded. He smiled, just a little bit, taking a step towards you, into your personal space.
“It means 'babygirl’”
You scrunched up your nose,
“So what, I’m supposed to call you 'daddy’ in return?"
"Of course not,” He replied, wrapping his arms around you, “just call me papa”
“Ugh, no way!” You batted away at his chest, but couldn’t disguise the smile trying to break free. If it was a little goofy, well, no one had to know “I’m not calling you that, you dirty old man!”
“We’ll see…” He shrugged, noncommittal, before bending to kiss your smirk off your face, “Wait, so, you’re not mad?”
You shook your head, rising to your tiptoes to kiss him again.
“Nah, it just means we have more time in the bathtub” He hummed at that, hand on the small of your back traveling lower. “To wash!” You admonished. He didn’t look chastised at all. “And after that… you can make me breakfast”
His smile was real this time, big and open.
“Of course, anything you want… Papa will give his malyshka everything she wants”
“Ew, stop!"
His laughter filled the bathroom, and your heart, with warmth.
This one is a bit long, but I don’t think there are any chapter warnings besides mention of past non con and angst.
And the interrogation scene is next. I’m very excited for that one
You had nearly made it to the stables, when you heard a gunshot echo in the far corridors of the Little Palace. ‘Please tell me that was part of your plan Kaz.’ You thought desperately to yourself as you shoved your few belongings you had stashed in your old room into a weathered pack.
As much as you had loved your fete dress, it was left behind with all of your other uniforms. You finished hastily buttoning your shirt before grabbing your old shoes from the front. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you didn’t see a grisha, just another commoner and that’s what you wanted.
You swallowed slightly as you carefully began to undo your leg brace. It had now become as much of a part of you as your injury had, but David himself had said that the metal he had used was rare. And that meant easily tracked.
As you slid the metal off of you, you cradled it in your arms and smiled at it. Perhaps it was stupid to feel so attached to something material, but this thing had given you a bit of your past back. It had stopped the pain from spreading up your thigh and had allowed you to be more mobile.
But you couldn’t dwell on that now, so you shoved the brace away and grabbed a nearby roll of bandages to keep yourself more sturdy.
After skillfully completing your wrap, you pulled up a pair of brown trousers and grabbed an old ratted coat that Ruslan had lent you before you left. It was time.
Slowly opening the door, you poked your head out and made your way to the place Kaz had shown you where the Zemini would be.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aleksander’s POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What is it?” Aleks asked breathlessly as he opened his chamber doors. The last kiss he had shared with Alina still on his mind.
“Marie and Genya were attacked in the fitting room.” Ivan said seriously. “Alina was the target.”
Aleksander stiffened at that. He had known that people were after his sun summoner, but the thought that they were able to get into the Little palace left him uneasy.
“We have a suspect in custody.”
“Wait here.” Any annoyance at the interruption was gone. He had to make sure that there was no longer any threat. He finally had the stag within his grasp, and would be damned if Alina was killed before he could complete his plan.
Quickly shutting the door he walked to Alina and gave her his best smile.
“Is something wrong?” Her eyes were wide as she looked at him with concern.
“It’s nothing.” He brushed off easily. “I’ll leave my guards outside until I return.” He ran his hands down her small shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. He was so close. Too close for anyone to mess up what he had planned for Y/n and Alina.
“I’ll be waiting.” She said breathlessly as he caressed her cheek.
With a small nod he walked away but froze Galway to the door in favor of turning back to sneak one last kiss. She tasted like strawberries, and he couldn’t help but think of how you tasted like mint when he kissed you. As his lips pressed against Alina’s again, he forced himself to pull away. He could kiss her later, when the threat was dealt with and Ravka was theirs to rule, but he couldn’t help but feel the same pull of attraction he had felt towards Y/n. The one that made him want to stay in bed with her all day and never stop kissing her.
As he walked out of the room, he nodded to Ivan. “Take me to him.” He said sternly. “Any clue how he got in?”
“He hasn’t talked yet.” Ivan said as the two quickly made their way through the maze of halls.
“He will.” Aleksander said nonchalantly. “Bring Volkov as well. Two people sneaking into the Little Palace tonight is not a coincidence we can afford.”
~~~~~~~~
Y/n’s POV
~~~~~~~~
You shivered as you walked through the stables and leaned heavily on your cane. Your leg was much weaker now without your brace, and with each step you felt a familiar pain shoot up your thigh.
Leaving the musty rooms, you hobbled slowly towards the only carriage set up to leave.
“Can I help you, miss?” A deep voice asked from behind you. The Zemini was there when you turned around just as Kaz said he would be.
“Looks like you’re my ride, Kaz sent me.” You whispered softly.
The man’s eyes widened at the name and he whipped his head around to see if anyone had heard. “You’re y/l/n aren’t you?” He asked, putting his hands on his hips. “Saints Kaz found you fast.”
“More like I found him.” You responded with a shrug. “He had briefly mentioned that my passage out of here was bought. What does that mean?”
The man gave an exaggerated shrug. “Dunno. Kaz never tells me anything. Be glad he told me to expect you otherwise you’d have a bullet in your brain.”
“I appreciate not getting shot.” You said with an easy smile. “I’m Y/n.” You held out your hand.
“Jesper Fahey.” He shook your hand excitedly with a large grin. “What order are you?”
“Both a healer and heartrender.” You replied with a smile. “I’m a bit of a… special case.”
“Interesting.” He said thoughtfully. “Do you like it? Being grisha?”
You sighed and braced yourself against a large tree. “I love it. Healing others and doing something bigger than myself? I may not have had a choice, but it was perfect. Even after my accident.” You gestured to your knee. “I got it in the fold.” You explained before he could ask. “No one was able to fix it, but I still did my job, and did it well too.”
“So, what happened?” He asked seriously. “Why leave if it was so great?”
“Men are the same everywhere. Grisha or non grisha alike.” You thought back to the king and Aleksander. “Well men in power at least. You seem nice.”
He laughed at that. “Tell me about it. In Ketterdam we have entire houses that take advantage of young women. Have to stop myself everyday from going in there and shooting the bastards responsible for it.”
You nodded as you took in his tense expression. “I don’t think I’d have that much control.” You said honestly. “But it would be a bit obvious if a bunch of mobsters all fell down dead at the same time.”
He laughed again at that. “If you have any ideas on how to get away with it let me-“ Jesper froze and flattened the two of you against the tree. “You can’t be serious.” He whispered.
“What?” You hissed trying to look.
He released you and motioned for you to keep quiet.
Your eyes widened as you spotted Alina in plain brown clothes creeping towards your carriage.
The two of you stayed frozen as she pushed herself into the chest in the back.
Jesper let out a breathless laugh and you blinked at the scene. “Do- do all your heists go off like that?”
“Saints no. Usually there’s a part where we all face certain doom and have to cut our losses before coming out on top.” He started to laugh hysterically as he held out his hand for you.
You took it as you shook your head and he helped lead you towards the carriage. You’d be fine once you got used to not having your brace, but for now you weren’t used to being without it.
“What happened? You okay?” He asked, as Kaz and the Suli girl walked over.
The two looked disheveled and you swore you could smell the faint scent of smoke on their clothes.
“She’s real, Jesper. She made the light sing.” The girl whispered reverently.
“We lost her.” Kaz said gruffly, causing you and Jesper to look at each other with a smile.
“Did we?” He asked as you climbed into the carriage and winced at another sharp pain.
“We don’t know where she is.” The girl gave you a curt nod before climbing next to you.
“Don’t we?” You and Jesper laughed as the two men sat themselves on the seat. “Just ask.”
“Jesper-“
“Just ask.”
He gripped the reins tightly as Kaz glared at him.
“Fine. Do we have a fix on where the target is?”
With a small snort, Jesper flicked the reins and you were off.
I’m baaaaaaaaaack! Here is the next chapter! I’ve also written the next one and am posting that as well to thank you all for being so patient! I also would like to thank everyone for all of the love this series has gotten! I started writing this right after the show came out, but am just now able to post it online and am so happy to be writing again!
Chapter warnings: mention of past non con and angst
Y/N’s POV
“Stay behind me and act natural.” You whispered to the man who had begrudgingly introduced himself as Kaz. “Ivan! Is everything ready?” You stepped in front of Kaz to distract Ivan.
“Everything is in place, Miss y/l/n. You’ve been ordered to keep to the walls tonight, more people means more threats.”
“On Kirigan, Alina, or the royals?” The two of you walked into the demonstration room and in the corner of your eye you saw Kaz meet up with a Suli girl, but you heard his heart race when he looked at her.
He let out a scoff at that. “Right on the nose, now get in position, Alina is about to enter.”
“You got it boss!” You said with your normal cheeky salute as you walked away.
As you casually made your way to the back wall of the grand room, you felt a strong hand wrap around your arm.
“You look lovely.” Aleksander said, pulling you fatter into the shadows. He had done well to not attract the attention of the rest of the guests. He always seemed to love his grand entrances.
You did look lovely. All Grisha had one pair of formal keftas, and yours was even more detailed and intricate than your regular uniform. The main difference was the white fur that lined the neck and bottom of the coat. When you had put it on and styled your hair earlier, you had marveled at the feel of the silk against your skin and how it fit in all the right places.
“I try.” You gave him a small smile. Whatever happened, he could not know that you planned to leave.
“I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight.” He brushed his hand against your cheek and looked at you with a content smile. “I may have a surprise for you.”
You raised your eyebrow at that with a smile. “You’re not going to tell me what it is aren’t you?” You quipped back with your hands on your hips and a smile.
“Come find me after the celebrations are over and I’ll show you.” After a quick glance around, he gave you a quick peck on the lips and strode away.
“I wasn’t aware he was your lover.” You heard Kaz grumble from behind the column.
“I’ll tell you all about it when you tell the Suli girl how you feel.” You snarked back, chuckling as Feydor shoved a pink macaroon into Ivan’s stoic face which slowly turned into a wide grin.
“I could still leave you here.” Kaz responded, standing next to you.
“Why help me in the first place? Something tells me you don’t pick up strays unless you get something out of it.” You hated these parties. All the rich stuffy ambassadors and nobles that always gave the grisha dirty looks and scoffed at them when Kirigan wasn’t around. At least the gossip was interesting.
“Someone paid for your passage.” He said simply as the Kaelish ambassador walked by.
“Who-“ You stopped as he splashed a glass of wine onto his uniform and feigned as if the man had bumped into him.
“Stick to the plan.” He whispered, before turning to Ivan and Feydor.
You rolled your eyes at his strange tactics, but only watched as he walked away.
You sighed as you scanned the party and watched as the crowd parted to allow Aleksander to slip back into the room. You didn’t know what to think about him, and how much of it was from you or him. Either way, you knew that he only had bad intentions towards yourself and Alina, and there was no telling what would happen if tonight fell apart.
You may have loved Aleksander at one point, but you loved being free more.
As you watched the chattering crowds, they grew suddenly silent and you let out a low gasp at what drew their attention away.
Alina stood in the entrance of the room looking like a saint come to life. In a black kefta. You pushed away the bitterness that rose in your gut at the color of the coat. Aleksander had to have been the one to put her in that. But even then, you felt your heart patter as she locked eyes with you across the room and gave you a small smile.
You blinked in surprise, but watched as Aleksander walked up to her and the two talked quietly. You couldn’t help but listen as you could make out one sentence. “You look lovely, by the way.”
With that one sentiment from Aleksander you knew. He must have told her everything he told you. Played you both for fools and seduced two idiotically girls at the same time.
As the inferni twins began their show, your eyes stayed glued to the two of them. He couldn’t fool you now.
Shaking your head, you ended up looking at Genya as she glanced a longing gaze over to David. It seemed like love was in the air tonight. But you huffed a laugh as he only looked back to her when she looked away. If only you could be like them. Have what they obviously had.
The crowd gave a long round of applause as Alina walked to the stage with Aleksander right behind her. The crowd immediately silenced as he turned to face them.
“Her name is Alina Starkov. And she will bring liberation to us all.” Aleksander spoke regally.
She would. To everyone but herself most likely.
With a dramatic clap, the darkness spread across the room and engulfed everyone in shadows.
You held your breath as Alina stepped forward and light appeared from her hands.
“Come on Starkov.” You whispered to yourself.
As the light solidified into a small ball, you released the breath you had held and smiled as she split it into two.
With a slow wave of her hands, the glass flew across the room and the whole surface was engulfed in a beautiful blue light. “Wow.” You breathed quietly. As your neck craned to take it all in.
Aleksander looked around the room, taking in everyone’s expressions, as you stared straight at Alina. And she looked back at you. She smiled confidently as her arms gracefully moved towards her chest and your eyes locked with hers.
And with one more wave of her hands, the balls split into large lights, illuminating the room and chasing off the darkness that had engulfed it.
You smiled softly at her as the crowd began to kneel and whisper the words “Sankta Alina.”
She gave you one more smile before turning her head to look at Aleksander who watched her intently.
With everyone distracted, now was your only chance to get ready. You feel sad as you take in the wide room for what would probably be your last time.
Kaz would grab Alina, while you had to find a Zenimi man dressed in a footman’s uniform.
Hey guys! So I’ve decided to start a tag list so if you are interested in being on it, please comment below or message me! I hope to restart my two big series again, but they take time since I have to sit down and make sure that they line up with the plot of the show. But I am definitely getting back into the Shadows and Scars mindset so that would probably be written first. As always if you have any requests you can send them in! I also started writing for Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, and Steve Kemp. (Note: I will try to write DID as well as I can for the moon knight boys, but if you have any tips please send them in!) Now that I finished up my classes, updates should be more regular.
