Since you’re actively trying to Kill Me Dead with your fivan fic prompts, I’ve decide to embrace a ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em’ philosophy. Ahem. /clears throat. It’s truly a tragedy that I’ve not yet read a fic where Jesper compliments Ivan’s pretty face and Fedyor overhears. /bats eyelashes (is this working???). :)
It is two months since Fedyor and Ivan have been reunited, trying to stumble their way into understanding what on earth they're going to do now and what side they are supposed to fight for, whether these rumors of Kirigan being alive are real and what that means for them, when they arrive in a tavern close to the Fjerdan border and decide to stop for a drink. And it's there when Fedyor looks over, does a double take, and hisses, "Nina? What are you doing here?"
His fellow Heartrender, his friend, who he valiantly tried to save from the maniacal druskelle in their last meeting like this, stares back at him. "Fedyor," she says. "What are you -- ?"
"It doesn't matter," Fedyor says. "Are you alone? You should come with us. Ivan and I will keep you safe."
"I'm not..." Nina looks deeply uncomfortable. "Not... alone."
"What?" Fedyor follows her eye line to the other five people gathered at a table across the way, who seem vaguely familiar. Then he catches sight of the same maniac druskelle, the very same, and leaps to his feet. "Nina! What in the name of the Saints is -- "
"Shut up!" Nina hisses, jumping up with him and putting her hand over his mouth. "You don't know what's going on here!"
"That's the druskelle, Matthias Helvar, who -- "
"Fedyor, if you ruin things for me with him again, I swear -- "
While this is going on, a sudden, sepulchral roar echoes through the tavern, rattling off the roof. "YOU!"
Everyone whirls around, just as an utterly apoplectic Ivan leaps to his feet, throws out both hands, and the tall Zemeni man across the way chokes and staggers sideways as he suddenly can no longer breathe. Nina shrieks, then grabs Ivan's arm and pulls it down, breaking his stranglehold on the other man's heart. "Ivan! Don't -- "
"That," Ivan roars, "is the bastard who shot me three times in Ryevost and then pushed me off the skiff in the Fold! I am going to KILL HIM!"
The tavern patrons are scrambling for every available exit, desperate not to be caught in the middle of a Grisha throwdown, as Fedyor snaps upright like a hunting dog catching the scent. "He did... what?"
"Oh no," the Zemeni man says. "It's Kirigan's crazy sidekick. I knew I really shouldn't have been such a softie, but the pretty face -- "
Fedyor doesn't bother answering. His eyes turn as red as his kefta, as he slams his power at the other man so violently that it launches him bodily across the room. Someone yells, "JESPER!" and the Zemeni man -- Jesper -- barely manages to catch himself. Then he throws out a hand in reflex, and the knives on a nearby table speed back toward Fedyor, who ducks. What the -- ?
"I knew you were something!" Ivan bellows. "A Materialki, is it?"
Jesper stops short, swears, gets driven to his knees again as Fedyor redoubles his efforts to give him a serious heart attack, and the melee is only broken by Nina diving in the middle and disrupting Fedyor's line of sight. He tries to push her aside, but she pushes back, and Fedyor stumbles backward, still breathing like a grampus. "You did," he snarls at Jesper, "WHAT?"
"I wouldn't have if I knew he had an equally pretty but very fierce boyfriend. Saints." Jesper, panting, holds up his hands. "Come now. Truce? All right? Truce. In my defense, he was also trying to kill me."
"Maim," Ivan promises, face deadly. "At least."
"No maiming!" Nina screams, startling everyone. "I swear it's like nursery school all over again! Shall we start over?"
Fedyor and Ivan fold their arms and glare. Jesper and company do likewise. Nina sighs deeply.
This is going to be even harder than she thought.
