xi. wishful thinking

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HOPE IS A DANGEROUS THING

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HOPE IS A DANGEROUS THING





THE SWEET SUMMER DEEPENED, its scent filled the air with the smell of nectarines and grass covered in dew. Everything seemed hopeful and evergreen, and the beauty of it all made it less of a chore to attend war meetings ― they became a chance to walk through the radiant fields of the Palace.

Everyone busied themselves with something, these days ― Alina and Anya attended the Grisha council meetings everyday, as well as the ones with Nikolai and his advisers. David Kostyk was rumoured to have been developing a weapon of mirrored dishes, so most Fabrikators were busy helping him. The soldiers, of both First and Second Armies, went through many drills and practiced all the time. There was hope in the air.

Anya was often made to attend the queen's tea parties, to show the guests that she was, in fact, alive and also truly a woman changed ― a friend, not a threat. People were equally scared of mesmerised by her abilities (which made her feel like a wild animal being watched from behind glass), but only until Alina showed them her own. Light would always outshine everything else. Anya didn't mind it, though, especially since Alina was the only person keeping her from going insane during those dull, ridiculous gatherings. She understood that they were neccessary for the possible allyships the attending nobles could offer, which Ravka needed desperately. Nikolai dropped by during these parties, to dole out compliments, flirt shamelessly, and hover protectively by Anya's chair, as if he didn't trust his mother's guests to treat her well after everything that had been said about her through the years.

Most importantly, Anya and Nikolai met up in the library almost every evening, researching not only the Morozova amplifiers, but also war strategies, merzost and analysing reports that came in from the generals who were out in the field.

"They're barely managing to keep the army in check," Anya said on one of those evening, scurring through the report in which a captain detailed the five deserters he had to deal with during the last three weeks.

"The people are scared," Nikolai answered. "We have to set the example. Stand strong and united."

Anya lost count of all the times they'd gone over their strategy against the Darkling, of all the times they tried to get it across to the idiots in the council rooms, of all the times she watched Nikolai rest his face in his arms at one of the library tables and dramatically exclaim that he was going to return to sea right that instant. He never did. He never left her alone with the research at all – and with time, she got used to his presence.

Nikolai wasn't like other people. He never demanded anything of Anya, but he gratefully accepted anything she gave away, no matter if it was bits of knowledge, new ideas or the usual, easy banter they shared. They kept each other going through the times of looming war, busied each other with company and endless topics of discussion that ranged from the protection of the borders to questions like, Which Saint do you think was the first one to abandon us? The latter were always asked by Nikolai, usually in times when they were so tired that any logical topics fled their minds. The closer they were to the inevitable end of it all, the less Anya minded his taunts. They might as well treasure their last moments of peace.

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