reznikolai | I N B O X

[ Mortification? Contrition?

Gwenhwyfar just stares at him, a little confused. She had expressed that he shouldn't feel any shame around her because it is the first feeling she feels when she finds herself after losing control. That, and, the deep self-loathing that follows her, like a shadow.

Jokes in particular don't seem to land on Gwenhwyfar, so his grin is met with a flat expression as she tries to process a response. ]

Uh. [ Well, she'll just... role past that and answer his question, directly. She places her hands on his. ]

You can take both together... should vine potion doesn't sedate or relax you quick enough. The other you can use to at least have a calm afternoon.

[ It's business as usual as far as she's concerned. ]

I do mean it -- I want to know if nothing works. It's still something that will need experimenting and revising.

[He has noticed that jokes fall flat around Gwenhwyfar... But that is hardly a deterrent. Her confusion and bluntness are somewhat endearing in an odd way.]

The monster doesn't usually come out while there's still daylight. [He feels the need to clarify this point. Their afflictions are similar, but there are some key distinctions.] He prefers the dark.

That said, rest assured that I will record detailed notes on the effects of both and pass these on to you.

[In this moment he's struck by how much he misses David and Genya, who would invent the increasingly potent concoctions he used to suppress the monster through the night. He doesn't wish for them to join him here, though, not when Ravka needs them now more than ever.]

[ In these situations where there is a heavy topic, especially ones involving magic, Gwenhwyfar is single-minded, far too focused on the subject. ]

You say he likes the dark...?

[ It piques her morbid curiosity, wondering if that the creature had any demonic elements outside of his appearance. She draws a breath, placing a firm hand over his, innocently meant to be soothing but it may come off as a forceful tug.

She can't control her strength, after all. ]

The point still stands... those herbs are also good for clearing one's mind from worry.

[ It's about the only thing that her people in her time can use for anxiety! ]

Tell me why he prefers the dark. I want to know more.

[ Just because it sounds a little like King Melwas. ]

[Her hand covering his — gloved, as always when he leaves the house — comes as a surprise. But not an unwelcome one. Much like the rest of her, the action is rough around the edges, but despite the sharp tug he can feel the softer intent in her touch. He can feel the gentle pulse of manna spreading from the link of their hands. While she may not be overly fond of him, they do share an undeniable understanding that enables synchrony.]

What's inside of me is a living darkness. It's both a part of me and its own entity with its own will.

[Like a second heartbeat, burrowed deep inside him. Always waiting for a chance to claw its way out and spread its wings.]

My theory is that the monster comes out at night because it becomes easier for it to assert its will over mine when I'm asleep. Like sleepwalking, but with claws and fangs. Now, this next part I'm less certain about... But I believe it also responds to distress. The monster craves conflict.

[ Her hand over his relaxes, as her actions turn from investigative to soothing. She doesn't have the proper words to convey the sympathy, only her touch and the expression on her face.

She understands what it's like, even if a part of her was born to crave chaos and flesh. It's an awful balance that he must maintain... like her. And it's another spell she'll have to research, another source of magic that leaves her wondering who in their right mind could subject two separate men with two terrible spells.

She wishes she could express herself better verbally; he must find it awful, she thinks, that the hands that were once around is neck are holding his as a sign of sympathy. ]

But it is not you.

[ It's a reminder to him and to herself. ]

That is never you. I will do whatever I can to help you, Nikolai, I promise you that much. I don't want you to suffer alone.

[The image of Gwenhwyfar snarling over him, her hands wrapped around his throat, is not one he will soon forget. It was already a confusing, terrifying ordeal, hurtling back into his own consciousness once the monster curled back up. Add to that a half-demon woman tilting toward feral, and the confusion and terror become amplified. In this moment, though, her hand is a source of comfort.

He places his hand over hers, as if making a pact.]

Thank you, Gwenhwyfar. For ensuring that I don't go through this alone.

[Long has he thought that he would tread this path alone, that there were some places nobody, no matter how well-intentioned, could follow him to. But with Gwenhwyfar and Matt helping him, he feels stronger than he has in a long time.]

If there was something I could do for you...

[To help her control the demon blood that takes over her body. This is the part of him that sees a problem and wants to be the one to fix it. He trails off, shaking his head.]

You don't have to suffer alone either, you know.

[ She would still continue to insist that it was only fair that she offers her assistance to Nikolai. Who better to sympathize than someone who struggles with the same problem, like him? Her face and posture are relaxed, a far cry from that night. Even the way she lingers with her hands over his, her heart quietly pouring out to him.

But when he offers help? She closes her eye in quiet defeat, drawing a sigh. Those who she sought for help could handle her, physically. And while Gwenhwyfar could mention manna does help, she feels that Nikolai has to be afraid of her, in some capacity. Revolted. She is what she says she is -- a monster. ]

You may not like hearing this...

[ It's not her intent to sound cold or to brush him off. She will still maintain there is nothing Nikolai or anyone else can do as humans. ]

There is little you can do for me. Only to find yourself some stability. You are my priority, Nikolai as well as the other man I'm helping.

[ Her gaze lingers on him for a moment, schooled into a blank expression, devoid of any emotion. Just the way Myrddin had taught her as a child. Gently, Gwenhwyfar takes her hands back and takes a step back. ]

Should anything become amiss, you know where to look for me.

[A part of him does fear her — or rather, what she would become if she lost control. It's in the same way he fears the dark and the demon curled up in his heart, a fear tethered to helplessness. He despises not being able to do anything about it. He despises that all his efforts can be slashed apart by the monster's talons, that there might be some problems he cannot solve.

Nikolai sees Gwenhwyfar's expression go carefully blank. He knows what a mask looks like, as someone who has worn one for so long. This must be her way of managing the sharp cut of despair: refusing to allow herself to give in, forcing herself to keep reading this narrow and lonely path. Ultimately, the ache in his heart for her is greater than his fear of her. He forces a grin, something he is well practiced in.]

Then I will do my best to not disappoint you, Gwenhwyfar

[Her hands leave his, but he's left with the weight of her gifts. It seems she's ready to bring this meeting to an end, but he feels compelled to add:]

Matt offered to help me practice controlling the monster. If I can learn to maintain my mind while transformed, then the monster will be a threat no more.

[ She reasoned with herself that the pain will eventually come with the territory. A queen cannot think of her own needs -- only that of others. She couldn't ask someone that swore no loyalty to her family or Arthur's crown to help her with something so dangerous that he wasn't prepared for. Nikolai isn't a knight, he doesn't deserve it.

And so, Gwenhwyfar would leave it to Nikolai, still wearing the blank expression, divorced herself from her body and mind while her heart plummeted to deepest pits of darkness. ]

Then do so. [ She thought it was fantastic, really, and refused to show it. Gwenhwyfar turns back with a gentle call to Cavall while she gathers everything up that she had with her. ]

Just make sure next time that I won't be carrying you out like an old mother.

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