Fabrikator Notes: Finally got a chance to try out Substance Painter and Substance Sampler! Been making textures the old-fashioned way and I can safely say Substance makes things a lot easier. Will Attempt the stitching on Zoya’s Kefta next.
Fabrikator Notes: Fixed the weight of the kefta to make it stable/heavy and simplified the skirt so that there is less clipping/sticking! Also cleaned up the inner lining around the edges for fur to adhere onto, making the fur MUCH easier to apply. Before this I was painting where I wanted the fur to be, which is a big time sink. This also allows it to show up on the cuffs and skirt much more easily. Also re-drew some of the patterning in the front so it would flow better. Still need to make buttons and belt, but that’s low on the hierarchy.
Summary:[Based on Tolerate It - Taylor Swift] An arranged marriage is never complete without both parties having an agenda. For Nikolai it was Ravka, but for Y/n, it was Nikolai.
Once Nikolai’s been casted in the show, I’ll obviously replace this gif, but for now enjoy this gif of the first blond English actor (Sam Claflin) I could think of lol.
It was dusk in Os Alta and the Grand Palace was filled with a silence most would describe as eery, but not to Y/n. She spent of her days wandering through the halls like a bored child, so much so, the silence and the golden details all became mundane to her.
She stood nervously in front of the door to Nikolai’s study and gulped as she mustered the courage to approach him. Their marriage began on a good note, with plentiful conversations and exchange. But, as things began to settle and Nikolai’s responsibilities grew more and more demanding, they became essentially stranger to one another.
No more, Y/n thought to herself. There might not be mutual love or romance between the two of them, but she refused to sit idle and alone and allow herself to become as forgettable as floor he walked on. Y/n knocked twice on his door before entering cautiously.
“Dinner is ready,” she stated.
It had been for a while. Y/n was the one who planned the meal, but when she sat to eat while her plate was still warm, her appetite vanished. Y/n had lost count of the amount of meals she had sitting alone at the dining table.
“So it is,” he said snidely, not even bothering to look at her.
She should have heeded the warning and given up, but they had been like that for months. Y/n was dying for conversation, even if it ended in him telling her to leave.
“Will you join me?”
He scoffed quietly. They no longer ate together. They did not even share the same bed. He could not understand why Y/n would think today would be any different.
“I cannot.”
Nikolai gestured to the endless sheets of paper sprawled across his desk, as if it meant anything to Y/n. She had seen him cast aside his work momentarily for a conversation with Zoya and, on a different occasion, a drink with an old friend from the first army.
“Surely your work can wait.”
“Yes, I’m sure the hundreds of first army soldiers camped at the border can wait for further instructions while their King gorges himself per your request.”
His remarks never bothered her before. She and Nikolai were well acquainted for years before he approached her with the proposal of an arranged marriage. However her patience with him had become slim. Dangerously slim.
“Nikolai, I have done a lot for you,” she said, her voice even in tone.
Finally he dropped the sheet of paper in his hand and looked his wife in the eye. Her gaze was close to a glare; a cold and steely one at that.
“You propose this marriage and I agree. I leave my sister and my friends in the second army so I can smile and wave, and maintain a facade all so you may fulfil this vision you have for the future of our country.” She clenched her jaw, trying her best not to completely lash out at him for being such an inconsiderate prick. “And all I am asking is that you join me for one meal so I don’t feel even more isolated in this wretched building than I already do.”
“… Alright.”
Y/n was taken aback. Nikolai stood from his seat and shuffled his papers into neat piles. He appeared affected by what she said. Perhaps even guilty at her mentioning her sister and how isolated she felt. Y/n’s sacrifice was no small detail and he was ashamed by the way he made it seem like it was.
By the time he headed for the door, Y/n was already halfway down the corridor. Instinctively, he quickened his pace so as to catch up to her, but when he reached the dining room, she was already seated in her usual place, right beside his.
They ate in silence for only a short moment. There was irony in the way that sat beside one another but could not have been father apart. Y/n glanced at Nikolai momentarily and cleared her throat.
“What is the latest report on the first army base the border?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” he quipped.
“Nikolai.”
She was only trying to make conversation, yet he responded like she was making a personal attack against his character. What happened to the man who made her swoon? Who was always so kind to her? What happened to Nikolai she loved?
“Do not make this into something it is not,” he warned.
He did not want to indulge in small talk over dinner with Y/n, as if there were not thousands of people depending on him and his leadership. He had no plans of falling for her. No plans of their arrangement becoming anything beyond a performance. Engaging in conversation with her threatened that.
“Is it not in the best interest of Ravka that both their King and Queen are well versed in the affairs of their people?”
For someone who claimed to care so much about the people of Ravka, he was being quite cruel to the Ravkan he chose to marry.
“That was not the case for my mother,” Nikolai reasoned mindlessly.
“Ah, yes, and look how well that turned out.”
He dropped his fork immediately. It was a low blow, Y/n knew that, but if it got a reaction out of him, any kind of reaction at all, it was worth it to her. Nikolai clenched his jaw and inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring into a deep shade of red.
“I have far more important matters to attend to,” he hissed, his tone venomous and piercing. “Which is precisely what I could be doing now had I not been burdened by your nagging and relentless demand to be something I never agreed to become.”
Amidst the silence that was casted over the dining table, Nikolai heard her gasp quietly. She stared at him in horror, before pushing herself away from the table. He had never seen her so upset and could have never expected himself to be the culprit.
“Well, I’ll be sure not to burden you again,” she spoke roughly as she rose from her chair. “I think I’ll much prefer the silence anyways.”
She blamed herself for trying. Men in power seldom cared for the people affected by their actions. Y/n never believed Nikolai would be one of them, but after their exchange she began to rethink her belief.
As he watched her walk away, wiping her eyes before exiting through the door, Nikolai, too, began to wonder.
***
Very little time had passed since that night in the dining room- a matter of days, if many. It was was late at night, once again, only this time Y/n was already fast asleep in her room adjacent to Nikolai’s. She would have remained fast asleep had a palace worker not shook her awake so roughly.
It only took a few hard shakes before Y/n started grumbling. Annoyed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, glaring at the worker standing before her. What was the reason for the all this?
“It’s the King.”
The maid did not need to say anything else, Y/n was already reaching for her robe and racing out the door. The worker followed her down the hallway to where Nikolai was, explaining how he injured himself during a solo combat training session.
“Where were the healers when this happened?” Y/n asked worriedly. The maid explained that he was injured an hour ago.
“He refused to be tended to by anyone but you, moya tsaritsa.”
Once he was healed of his injuries, Y/n swore she was going to get a few punches in just for the fun of it. First he called her burden for wanting a conservation with her husband, and now he was choosing to bleed out in the infirmary until she could get there.
Nikolai sat up instantly at the sound Y/n barging into the room. The maid at her side quickly made herself scarce, as did the rest of workers previously present.
Without saying a word, or even looking him in the eye, Y/n sat at his bedside and began working of the wounds on his leg. Her brows wrinkled as she narrowed her eyes.
“I take it you are still cross with me,” Nikolai commented, hoping to ease the tension.
“I am trying to focus,” she corrected him, her gaze turning quickly into a glare. There were several deep gashes along his legs as well as bruises all across his arms and cheek. “It would not be so bad if you had been seen by a healer sooner.”
He smirked. There was an overwhelming presence of annoyance in her tone, but a small hint of worry. Of fear something horrible could have likely happened to him.
“I prefer your company.” His tone came off as teasing, but he could not have said sincerer words.
“From the way you often speak to me, I would have never guessed.”
He deserved that. Y/n felt a small ounce of satisfaction when she noticed his smirk fade, but it was short-lived. She turned her attention back to his injuries. It would take a while for her to heal them all, which made her wonder if he did this on purpose.
Nikolai studied Y/n closely while she healed him. Even after all the cruel things he said, and all the ways he made her upset, she was still willing to climb out of bed in the middle of the night and tend to his wounds. She never even complained about how tired she was, despite needing to yawn every so often.
It led him to wonder.
“Why did you accept my proposal?” Nikolai’s voice was small. Y/n looked at him in confusion. “If it meant leaving your friends and your sister, why did you go through with it?”
“Why the sudden interest in my feelings?”
“It is a topic of great relevance to me,” he stated plainly. “You are my wife after all.”
Y/n scoffed loudly, followed by a bitter and incredulous laugh. It had been a long while since he referred to her as his wife, much less in private, with no one to perform for.
He gave it a moment; lied in silence as Y/n finished healing his arm before breaking the silence once more.
“I’m serious, Y/n,” Nikolai spoke softly, gazing intently at her as she moved to heal to bruise on the right side of his face. “Why did you agree to this?”
Nikolai did not know what to expect, but he was most curious. Y/n seemed to think for minute, if that. It did not take her long to look him in the eye and answer his question.
“Because you asked me.”
His brows knitted together in confusion. Her answer was so cryptic to him. So vague and unclear, yet, for Y/n, it truly was as simple as it seemed.
She had seen many deplorable men come into power. Men she detested with every fibre of her being, the Darkling and the previous King being among them. Nikolai was different.
He was someone she believed. Someone whose judgement and strategies she trusted wholeheartedly. Y/n wanted to live in a Ravka that he was leading, so when he told her that an arranged marriage with a grisha was necessary to that dream, she agreed. If it had been anyone else asking for her hand, she would have laughed in their face. But it was Nikolai.
Once Y/n was finished, she left the infirmary silently, but not without noting the way Nikolai stared at her in astonishment. She could not figure out whether it was because she healed him so swiftly or because she agreed to marry him simply because it was him who asked.
Nikolai knew it was a mixture of both.
***
The following morning, Y/n woke up later than usual. As she got dressed and ready for breakfast, she could not stop thinking of her last conversation with Nikolai. What possessed him to ask her such a question, particularly when he never seemed to care about why she agreed to their marriage in the first place.
As Y/n headed for the dining room to eat breakfast alone, yet again, she was startled to open the door and see Nikolai, standing at his end of the table as if he had been waiting for her to arrive.
“There you are,” he sang, pulling her chair out for as she approached her seat. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but he was unfazed. “I was contemplating sending someone to wake you.”
"What are you doing?”
“Sit,” he said, brushing off her question.
Y/n hesitantly lowered herself onto her chair. Nikolai sat beside her and began eating his plate of food. He was breathing heavily as he tried to muster the courage to speak again. She was half-expecting for the room to grow quiet and for them to eat in complete silence as per usual.
She was greatly alarmed when Nikolai cleared his throat and turned to face her.
“The latest report from the first army base at the border was pleasing. They were able to fend off an attack from Fjerda,” he explained. Just as she began to wrap her head around his sudden announcement, he continued on. “I’ve asked Zoya to brief you on recent developments within the second army from now on. She and Genya are eager to hear your thoughts regarding the corporalki and the training of our healers.”
After the way Y/n healed his numerous injuries with such swiftness, Nikolai realised it was a mistake to take her away from the second army, Particularly when there was so much she could teach their newer recruits, including her younger sister.
Y/n looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. Much to Nikolai’s amusement, she lifted her hand and placed it firmly against his temple, checking to see if he had a fever.
“Are you feeling well?”
He chuckled, prompting her to put her hand back down. His temperature was fine, but there was definitely something strange. Something that was not present before.
“I will be busy today,” Nikolai stated after taking another bite of his meal. “I have several meetings to attend and strategies to exhaust over, so I will not be home in time for dinner or supper.”
He spoke as if he was explaining something to her, but Y/n could not have been any more confused. She was even more startled when he reached for her hand. If it were not for the comfort of his touch, she would have swatted his hand away instantly. But she did not.
“I wish I could sit with you for every meal. Truthfully, I wish I could give you the marriage and the life you deserve, but I cannot promise you that.” He gulped before smiling once more. “But I will promise you at least one meal everyday, where I am all yours.”
Not Ravka’s. Not the first army’s. All hers.
“Today it is breakfast.”
Nikolai felt nervous by the way Y/n continued to study him. However, she only did so, because she felt a feeling of comfort that she had craved for so long. Not only was he making an effort, but he was making and effort for her.
“You do not have to do this,” she said softly.
“I know.”
He wanted to. He wanted to be the best partner to Y/n, because for the first months of the marriage, that is precisely what she was to him, even when he did not care to notice.
Nikolai smiled as he continued to eat his breakfast, his hand never leaving Y/n’s. Occasionally he would pause to tell her about what was discussed at his latest meeting, or to recall an old story that he knew would make her laugh. If the room grew silent, it was only for a short moment.
Perhaps over time love would make its way into their relationship. Real genuine love. Or perhaps they would simply build on their pre-existing friendship. Either way, Nikolai was not against any possible outcome so long as it meant he could still have her at his side.
“We are here on orders from the king. We are here to salvage the future of our people. Ravka won’t survive without more soldiers, and the Grisha won’t survive without Ravka. I saw the Second Army decimated by the Darkling. I know what we’ve lost and how much more we stand to lose. We have to preserve the network. We owe it to every Grisha living in fear.”
Every time I see characters referring to Aleksander’s “decimation” of the Second Army, I am tempted to pull out this Princess Bride quote:
(Putting aside the historic context that ‘to decimate’ meant to kill one in ten, as I doubt that is what Adrik and Zoya are trying to convey.)
But, I now realize that Adrik and Zoya are correct. Aleksander did decimate the Grisha, not by sacking Os Alta, but by drawing most of the Second Army to his side.
-
Like Nikolai, Fedyor believed some Grisha had gone into hiding, waiting for order to be restored. But he suspected that most of them had sought out the Darkling.
“He’s strength,” said Fedyor. “He’s safety. That’s what they understand.”
Or maybe they just think they’ve chosen the winning side, I thought bleakly. - Siege and Storm, Ch. 12
-
There were four tables arranged in a square at the center of the room, and that was where the Grisha waited. Despite their diminished numbers, they still kept to their Orders, sitting or standing in tightly clustered groups of red, purple, and blue.
We walked forward, and most of the Grisha rose. It was a young group, and with a twinge of unease, I realized that many of the older and more experienced Grisha had chosen to defect to the Darkling. - Siege and Storm, Ch. 13
-
Grisha and oprichniki slumped and fell against one another as confusion broke out aboard the glass skiff. I saw more bodies fall.
Our sharpshooters had done their job well. The area around the railing was littered with bodies.
I saw sun soldiers and Grisha fighting by the illuminated skiffs. Harshaw down. Ruby bleeding. - Ruin and Rising, Ch. 17
-
Of course, Adrik and Zoya must blame the loss of Grisha life on Aleksander. Of course, they will ignore and twist their role in the Grisha civil war. Justifying one’s actions is only human.
And it is Aleksander’s fault.
It is Aleksander’s fault that he was a beacon to his people, and that because of him they chose the losing side.
“I made a silent count—forty Grisha, maybe fifty, most of them barely out of school. Some army, I thought with a sigh. My glorious reign was off to a miserable start.” Siege and Storm, Ch 15
After spending S&S working so hard to paint them as underdogs with these diminished numbers and barely any soldiers on their side, you can’t then turn around and claim that amounts to decimating the entire Second Army. Are they the underdogs with minimal soldiers or aren’t they?
The revisionism in KoS/RoW that the Darkling killed off the majority of the Second Army in the siege on Os Alta was so frustrating because it got repeated so often, despite being the opposite of the previous “underdog” narrative
Weknow that most of the Second Army sided with the Darkling. We know that many of them had to flee Ravka and sell themselves into slavery after the civil war (and besides the indentures we see in SoC, how many of them are likely in Brum’s cells or Mahki’s labs by now?) Even within S&S, some were killed earlier by the First Army eager to scapegoat Grisha at the first opportunity, a single mention early on that never comes up against despite the fact that it’s horrifying (“When word of the destruction of Novokribirsk reached the outpost the King’s soldiers had turned on the Grisha, pulling them from their beds in the middle of the night and mounting sham trials to determine their loyalty” Siege and Storm, Chapter 12.) This happened not only “near Sikursk on the southeastern border,” but in Chernast and Ulensk as well. Multiple places, all across the map, because that’s all it took for the First Army to turn on Grisha.
No wonder most of the Second Army fled Os Alta at the first opportunity, if this is how “the King’s soldiers” treat them. Why would the Second Army EVER return to fight for Alina—and by extension that same King, after that? You wouldn’t even have to be loyal to the Darkling to know you would NEVER be safe under that monarchy and refuse to fight for them.
At this point, I need to stop being surprised every time Ravka’s large-scale societal failures are all conveniently pinned on the Darkling :\
(@goatsandgangsters Thank you for sharing these additional quotes and fantastic points!)
First Army soldiers were stationed around the grounds, rifles on their backs. I doubted they’d do much good against a force of determined Heartrenders, Squallers, and Inferni, but the message was clear: The Grisha were not to be trusted. - Siege and Storm, Ch. 13
It is also possible that the forty to fifty remaining Grisha are present against their will. They are constantly watched and under the guard of the First Army.
It’s been years since I had optics at school, but how the hell can Alina see all of this? How do distances work in this world?! How do angles, visibility and human eyes?
So Os Kervo is stone’s throw from Novokribirsk AND the Shadow Fold? Crossing in the widest part is even more stupid, because the narrower parts should be a km or two…?
If Alina claims they’re close enough to see people’s faces, either she’s lying again, or the editor didn’t do their job and didn’t point out obvious nonsense. If they’re less than fifty meters, why did no one run towards the skiff? World record holder would reach it in six seconds. Am I supposed to believe no one got the same idea?
Book one of the Grishaverse contains the softest worldbuilding. It is cotton candy soft, and just as delicate and ephemeral as that spun candy. Which is absolutely fine when the reader treats this novel as a fairy tale. Many of the elements within the narrative work far better as a fairy story that runs on the logic of dreams.
However, once the series continues, the worldbuilding hardens like cooling sugar. In a way, this ruins book one. It changes what was absurdist into glaring innacuries. Clearly, I was never meant to question the scale of Os Kervo’s towers or the limitations of human eyesight in Shadow and Bone. This scene is meant to be atmospheric, something soft worldbuilding relies on,but then these impossible observationsare usedin book two to justify claims of the Darkling’s madness. Not to mention Novokribisk is retconned into a city.
Once Bardugo changed the tone of the series, book one begins to unravel at a faster and faster pace.
“We are here on orders from the king. We are here to salvage the future of our people. Ravka won’t survive without more soldiers, and the Grisha won’t survive without Ravka. I saw the Second Army decimated by the Darkling. I know what we’ve lost and how much more we stand to lose. We have to preserve the network. We owe it to every Grisha living in fear.”
Every time I see characters referring to Aleksander’s “decimation” of the Second Army, I am tempted to pull out this Princess Bride quote:
(Putting aside the historic context that ‘to decimate’ meant to kill one in ten, as I doubt that is what Adrik and Zoya are trying to convey.)
But, I now realize that Adrik and Zoya are correct. Aleksander did decimate the Grisha, not by sacking Os Alta, but by drawing most of the Second Army to his side.
-
Like Nikolai, Fedyor believed some Grisha had gone into hiding, waiting for order to be restored. But he suspected that most of them had sought out the Darkling.
“He’s strength,” said Fedyor. “He’s safety. That’s what they understand.”
Or maybe they just think they’ve chosen the winning side, I thought bleakly. - Siege and Storm, Ch. 12
-
There were four tables arranged in a square at the center of the room, and that was where the Grisha waited. Despite their diminished numbers, they still kept to their Orders, sitting or standing in tightly clustered groups of red, purple, and blue.
We walked forward, and most of the Grisha rose. It was a young group, and with a twinge of unease, I realized that many of the older and more experienced Grisha had chosen to defect to the Darkling. - Siege and Storm, Ch. 13
-
Grisha and oprichniki slumped and fell against one another as confusion broke out aboard the glass skiff. I saw more bodies fall.
Our sharpshooters had done their job well. The area around the railing was littered with bodies.
I saw sun soldiers and Grisha fighting by the illuminated skiffs. Harshaw down. Ruby bleeding. - Ruin and Rising, Ch. 17
-
Of course, Adrik and Zoya must blame the loss of Grisha life on Aleksander. Of course, they will ignore and twist their role in the Grisha civil war. Justifying one’s actions is only human.
And it is Aleksander’s fault.
It is Aleksander’s fault that he was a beacon to his people, and that because of him they chose the losing side.
“No one does. But he can’t just be kind when he’s feeling strong.”
- Rule of Wolves, Ch. 22
I think this is one of the most profound lines Bardugo has written in the Grishaverse, as well as a reoccurring flaw in both her “villains” and her “heroes.”
Fascinatingly, the worship of Djel has even more components of Catholicism than the Ravkan religion.
“Wellmother,” said Brum, his voice icy, “you may have the ear of Djel, but so do the drüskelle. You will think more carefully the next time you come to my home to accuse my daughter.”
The Wellmother rose. She looked indomitable, not remotely chastened by Brum’s words. “I serve the spiritual well-being of this country,” she said. “The Apparat, a heathen priest, is beneath this roof. I have heard tales of heathen worship in this very town. I will not be swayed in my mission. Still,” she said, and smoothed the woolen skirts of her pinafore, “I am glad Hanne has finally found her way. I will hear her confession before I go.“ - Rule of Wolves, Ch. 4
“And I will hear Mila Jandersdat’s as well.”
Nina couldn’t hide her surprise. “But I was only a guest of the convent. I was never a novitiate.”
“And do you not have a soul, Mila Jandersdat?”
-
So if Madame Prune Pit wanted her to make up a few good sins, she’d be happy to entertain her for a quarter of an hour.
“I’ll go first,” she said to Hanne, and cheerfully followed the Wellmother into the small receiving room that had been selected for her confessional.
It was narrow, with space for little more than a writing desk and a small sofa. The Wellmother took a seat at the desk and lit an oil lamp.
“The water hears and understands,” she murmured.
“The ice does not forgive,” Nina said in traditional reply.
Fascinatingly, the worship of Djel has even more components of Catholicism than the Ravkan religion.
“Wellmother,” said Brum, his voice icy, “you may have the ear of Djel, but so do the drüskelle. You will think more carefully the next time you come to my home to accuse my daughter.”
The Wellmother rose. She looked indomitable, not remotely chastened by Brum’s words. “I serve the spiritual well-being of this country,” she said. “The Apparat, a heathen priest, is beneath this roof. I have heard tales of heathen worship in this very town. I will not be swayed in my mission. Still,” she said, and smoothed the woolen skirts of her pinafore, “I am glad Hanne has finally found her way. I will hear her confession before I go.“ - Rule of Wolves, Ch. 4
