A/N: I had so much fun writing thank you for the idea! I might end up adding more to it :)
Word count: ~2.7k
Warnings: mentions of human trafficking, descriptions of violence
Summary: Tamar meets her soulmate in less-than-desirable circumstances.
-Y/n POV-
We both felt the tug at the same time, one glance into her eyes and she knew what it was.
“For fucks sake.” She said, staring at me. Her knife on my throat. I fought the urge to laugh as the cool metal of her blade pressed into my skin. I’m lucky the tug came quickly enough for her to hesitate.
“This is inconvenient.” I sighed, trying to push back and put space between us. Her grip on the back of my head, her fist in my hair, tightened. I felt an uncomfortable itching sensation on my forearm. There’s the tattoo.
“What’s your name?” She asked
“Does it matter?” I answered. Soulmate or not - the look in her eyes tells me she would still kill me. I carefully move my hands in front of me, yanking up one sleeve to try and show my indenture tattoo, to prove i’m not a slaver, that i’m not here my choice.
She shoved me down, my back hitting the crate. I wince at the impact but i’m unarmed, caught off guard. Her fist comes up, clenching. I try to roll away but felt my heart rate drop rapidly . ‘A fucking heart render.’ is the last thought drifting through my head before I fall unconscious.
-Tamar POV-
“Why’s that one alive?” Sturmhond asks, pointing towards the girl sleeping near the crate, her body bent in what must be an uncomfortable position. I turn my arm, yanking my sleeve up to show the words etched in black.
“This is inconvenient.” Sturmhond read the them before breaking out into laughter. He continues laughing for a solid minute while I scowl at him. Finally, he takes a few deep breaths and calms himself. “Do you need me to kill her for you?” His tone is light, but I can see the certainty in his eyes - if I say yes he would kill her.
Tamar shook her head. “She’s an indenture.” she says, having spotted the tattoo on the other her wrist, she couldn’t tell where exactly to but the marking makes it obvious.
“Grisha?” He asked.
“I don’t know. It’s likely, considering it’s a Kerch ship.” Kerch Slavers love to indenture Grisha they find, especially Squallers and Tidemakers. That’s one circumstance they don’t particularly care about gender.
“If she is, we can offer sanctuary, a place here. Get rid of the tattoo.” Sturmhond’s always been generous to indentures they find - giving them a way out, oftentimes the Grisha working on board are former indentures.
“If she’s not?” I asked sharply.
He turns to look at me, carefully. “Still get rid of the tattoo if she wants. We can drop her off at the next port.” He saw my eyes narrow. “Or offer a space here, your call.” He holds his hands up.
“To think, I almost killed her.” I murmur.
“Not the best first meeting, especially considering you’ll have those words etched on you for the rest of your life.” No amount of tailoring can get rid of a soulmate tattoo. About ⅓ of the population actually ends up finding their soulmates - if official reports are listened to. It doesn’t necessarily mean it will make a good match. The core, the Saint given, parts of the person are said to match, but culture and upbringing can change someone.
-Y/n POV-
The door to my glorified cell opens. I’d tried to get out, but it was locked from the outside, and there was absolutely nothing to pick the lock with - all of my weapons, hair pins, everything had been stripped from my body. My soulmate enters with someone else, a giant man who looks like her. Siblings - or cousins maybe.
I eye both of them cautiously. My hands are bound, far enough apart they suspect I might be Grisha. They’re right about that. They’re wrong in assuming I can’t summon like this, but I bide my time. I could summon, but I doubt it will win me any favors.
I stay in my seat, although I am tempted to throw the chair at them. They close the door behind them, the giant takes up position in the corner, the woman - my soulmate apparently, leans against the door. She doesn’t say anything, just gazes at me for a few minutes. I refuse to break the silence.
“Are you an indenture?” She finally asks.
“You mean glorified slave?” I laugh. “Yes, I am."
“Everyone thinks you’re dead now.” The man answers from the corner. “You’re essentially free.”
“Are the rest of them dead?” I ask.
“Yes.” She answers without hesitation.
“Good.” I say quietly. The only show of surprise is the slight raising of her eyebrows.
“Are you Grisha?” He asks me.
Against my better judgment, I clench my fists, swirling my hands to direct a gust of wind at his face. His arms come up to shield, and he ducks. I felt another hand wrench my head back, and the cool metal of a blade against my throat. One well placed knick and my windpipe would be sliced wide open - or I'd bleed out in seconds. I’m surprised she’s going for the weapon instead of just knocking me unconcsious like earlier.
“If this is how you treat your soulmate, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies.” I laugh.
“Who says you’re not both?” She snaps at me.
“The only enemy I have is the one who put me on the other ship.” I say quietly. A moment later my hair is released and I breathe out a sigh of relief. The knife leaves my throat, and her hands unlock the modified shackles. Apparently that was enough to convince her, but again heart-renders can tell when someone is lying. I shake my wrists out, trying to rub away the red marks.
–Tamar POV-
I stand at the stern, arms propped up on the railing, gazing out at the horizon as Nikolai joins me.
“I know she’s your soulmate.” He says, “but she’s a pain in the ass. And unfortunately one of the most powerful squallers I've met.”
“You like her.” I say, almost accusingly.
“She’s amusing.” He replies. “And taking quickly to the airboats. Have you spoken to her?” He turns to face me.
“Neither of us have tried.” I scratch the back of my neck.
“This is uncharted territory for both of you, but this is your ship.” He comments. It’s not an accusation, and I know that, but it feels like one.
“You have a point.” I admit reluctantly
His voice lowers, “not many people get to find theirs. Especially people living like us.”
We stand in silence for a few more moments before I head off to go start my watch.
“I’ll think about it.” I say over my shoulder. I see his smirk, he knows he’s won. I’m impressed with how quickly she’s integrated herself with the crew and other Grisha. She’s charming, funny, and fiery. Three traits that are serving her well on board. I shake my head, trying to put thoughts of her out of my mind. I grow more distracted by her each day. I didn’t pay much attention to the watch list today - to who would be my partner. I’m surprised to see who meets me up at the tower. I have a feeling it was done on purpose.
-Y/n POV-
Watch with Tamar, and my first one. I haven’t specifically avoided her, just not started any conversations or stuck around long in her presence. Maybe I am avoiding her, maybe that makes me a coward. But it’s not my space, not my arena, it’s her move. I’m stubborn and patient enough to wait.
“Kruge for your thoughts?” I hear a voice. I was lost in thought, waiting for her to join. My head snaps around to see her. She’s beautiful,dark cropped hair, golden tilted eyes, bronze skin. My cheeks pink slightly - I can tell she notices by the slight smirk on her face. I’m tempted to throw something at her, just to smack it off.
“It’s strange being here.” I finally reply.
“How different is it?” She asks. I was indentured to some Kerch slavers previously, before Sturmhond’s crew attacked the ship. I know my life was only spared because of the soulmate bond, and I'm grateful for it.
“I haven’t felt the urge to sink the entire ship.” I laughed. “Or murder anyone.”
“Is that your way of saying you like it here?” Her lips turn up at the corners. ‘Stop staring at them.’ I tell myself, but my gaze hangs a second too long.
“It’s a strong possibility.” I admit, turning my head back out to sea, to keep an eye out for anything. “Tell me about you.” I say. It came out as more of a question than I would’ve liked, but she obliges.
“My mother was a Ravkan Grisha, my father a Shu Mercenary. Before she died she made him promise to take us to Novyi Zem instead of being drafted by the Second Army. The day after she died we set off.”
“How’d you get to sea?”
“Sturmhond found us after our father died, and offered us a chance out here. We were mercenaries before that. Still are technically.” I appreciate how open she is with me.
“We being you and Tolya?”
“Yes.” Her fingers tap on the railing. “What about you?” Her head doesn’t turn, keeping an eye out on the Sea, but I catch her watching me through her peripherals.
I hesitate. There’s a lot, but also almost nothing, to my story. “I fled the Wandering Isle, to Kerch, or tried to. The sailors I thought were rescuing me ended up getting me into that mess. Better than having my blood drained.” I laugh, laughing is the only way I can talk about it without crying - the memories are still fresh.
She didn’t laugh, or smile. “I can remove it.” She said, instead.
“Remove what?”
“The tattoo.”
My eyes widen. It isn’t the same as getting rid of an indenture completely, but if everyone thinks I’m dead - and the tattoo is gone. That might as well be my freedom. I don’t know what to say, what words to put into it. It probably seems so simple to her, but it means the world to me. She waits patiently for my answer, thankfully not pushing me.
“Please.” Is all I can force out, my voice chokes up a little and I swallow hard, one hand tapping the railing, the other wiping away the small tears in my corner.
“Once our watch is up.” She spares me a quick glance. I look back, only to be scolded.
“Eyes out.” She says, and I roll my eyes. We make easy chatter the rest of the time. Talking to her feels natural, feels like I can trust her almost immediately. It makes sense - given the soulmate bond, but maybe we’d still be able to talk like this under different circumstances, I hope so.
At the end of our watch she asks the question I’ve dreaded. “Did you ever try and save any of them?” Her tone is neutral. I feel the familiar ache in my chest, the tightness that comes with the memories of the people enslaved to be sold, their faces cross through my mind - one after the other. I’ll never forget them.
“Once.” I say, and turn around so my back faces her. I lift the back of my top, exposing a small sliver of skin - enough that she can see the scarring. It took weeks to heal after - even with Grisha healing abilities, a wicked lash can do a lot of damage. I hear her breath catch. “It was worth it.” I turn back around, “they got away.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t kill you.”
“I’m more valuable alive.” I say with a smirk. “I’d only been with them two months before you caught them.” I admit. “How long have you been with Sturmhond?” I change the subject.
“A year and a half.”
“Is he good to you?” I ask quietly.
“We chose him for a reason. He treats us well, and gives us freedom, he offers you a spot. Will you take it?”
“I like flying those little boats.” I pause for a few seconds, tilting my head to the side to gave over the rest of the deck below us. “I will.” The determination sets in my voice, in my tone. I’ve already admitted that to myself - that i’d take the spot - regardless. I’ve held desperately onto hope that it would be offered, working my ass off to learn as much as I can. Even if my mouth has gotten me a few warning glances.
Tamar grins, her grins are contagious and come easy, I hope it stays that way. “I’m glad.” My cheeks flush and I turn away from her, eyes gazing back out to the sea.
“How old are you?” I change the subject - again.
“21. You?”
“19.” Thankfully we’re relatively close in age - Grisha can look deceptively young.
After our watch finishes, Tamar leads me back down to her small cabin. She motions for me to take a seat on her hammock, and I sit down carefully, trying not to rock it too much. She crouches in front of me and my breath catches as she holds my wrist, flipping it over so the tattoo is visible. Her touch is light - and I don’t mind the itch, my eyes are transfixed on her as she works but she doesn’t seem uncomfortable under my gaze, in fact her cheeks flush red. I catch a glimpse of the tattoo on her forearm and laugh.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “What’s so funny?”
“You’ll be stuck with those words forever.” I shrug.
“So will you.”
“I don’t know which is worse.” I admit.
“All done.” She says, releasing my wrist. I look down, the tattoo is completely gone, no evidence of the past left on it. I run my fingers over it in awe, It’s unblemished, perfectly back to how it was before. I don’t notice Tamar moving until the hammock rocks slightly and her knee presses into mine, my head snaps to the side, she’s sat down next to me, staring at the tattoo on my arm. ‘For fucks sake.’
“I feel like I should apologize for that.” She chuckles.
“Don’t. I’ll enjoy telling the story of how we met.” I bite my lip as I realize my mistake, holding my breath. It sounds like I'm assuming we’ll be together - assuming she’ll accept it. My heart starts beating rapidly, even if she wasn’t a heart render I'm certain she’d be able to hear it. Her hand grabs my wrist, her thumb gently circling my palm. I feel my heart rate come back down to normal. She moves her hand back as quickly as she grabbed it, like she’s unsure if she crossed a line.
“Thank you.” I mumble under my breath, keeping my eyes trained on the floor in front of me.
“I’ll enjoy telling it too.” I turn to face her, the smile on her face is sincere. I’m still biting harshly on my lip when her thumb comes up to my face, tugging it slightly to release it from the hold. Her hand drifts to cup the side of my face, and I lean into her touch, closing my eyes as her thumb traces back and forth over my cheek bone. A knock on the door sounds and my eyes open reluctantly. Tolya’s voice drifts through the door.
“Time for rations.” He grunts, and I hear his footsteps walk away.
“He did that on purpose.” Tamar mutters, but stands up and offers me a hand. I laugh taking her hand, standing and tugging her towards me. I let my hand come up to cup her cheek, and lean up to press a gentle and quick kiss on her lips. I dart around her, slipping out the door before she can react. I hear her curse under her breath and by the time she’s out the door I'm halfway up the ladder. I turn over my shoulder to wink, and she rolls her eyes. “Later.” She mouths, and I bite my lip again, climbing up as quickly as I can before I give into the urge to shove her back in her room. Rations are essential after all.
So, the other day I listened to a song of one of my favourite bands and it kind of inspired this Tolya drabble. Can be read like Tolya x reader, but mostly it is Tolya x adventure or Tolya x new literature and poetry.
“Poetry” is Visions of Atlantis - “Mercy” and “Freedom”
We have a name but we wear no blazon
Born in a place where we feel no reason
To belong, to belong…
At first it had been exciting, interesting. Even fun.
But as days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Tolya started to feel restless.
As he turned into the courtyard of the Palace, he felt gloomy in spite of the first rays of the spring sun warming his face.
Life aboard the Volkvolny had been adventurous, he had visited far away lands and cultures, learned about their literature and poetry and… Saints, he missed this life. Of course, his former captain was now a king, his king, no one deserved a happy ending more than him and Zoya and there was still plenty to do and a lot of mischief and trouble to be managed, but it was no longer the same.
He was not the king. He was a soldier in the king’s personal guard, but he could not shake the feeling that he had been so much more in the life before this one.
He made his way through the grounds, aimlessly yet determined to do something. Anything really to escape his everyday routine.
That’s when he heard the commotion at the front gate of the palace. He cocked his head. Maybe there was the excitement he had been looking for.
In a few swift strides he made it to the source of the loud voices and saw a crowd of people gathered. He felt curiosity getting the best of him and ran up to Tamar, whom he saw standing further to the back.
“Tamar, what’s going on?” he asked, making her jump.
“Didn’t see you there, brother. Looks like Y/Ns back again, bringing riches, spices and tales from the edges of the world.”
Tolya felt a pang of jealousy. He still remembered how Y/N left for the first time on their own ship, the letter of undertaking from the Ravkan crown in their pocket, making them Nikolai’s Stormvixen. They had grinned at Nikolai and said in best Stormhund manner:
“Don’t be sad, Sobachka. You know I love you dearly as my friend and king and strictly in that order, however, I am not made for life at the Palace and no love could ever confine me to one place and one place only.”
Back then, Tolya did not fully understand what they had been talking about, but the more time had passed, the more he felt he did.
That was when he saw a glint of Y/N and it gave him a jolt. Hugging Zoya, Y/N was laughing so heartily, it threw him off his thoughts. There were few people who ever gave Zoya a hug, even fewer who had lived to tell the tale, but they had always had a weird relationship with the former General, now queen. As they smiled at Zoya and said something inaudible to her, Y/N’s eyes started wandering about the perimeter and suddenly, their eyes met. He could see the instant recognition and could almost feel their excited energy at his sight and the sudden irritation that there were so many people to greet.
He smiled to himself and just fell back to lean at the Palace walls.
Tamar followed him and with a single look at his face said: “Aren’t we looking a bit smug? Just because they recognised you?”
He smiled. “No, because they are happy to see me. And because just this morning I was thinking how I might need something interesting to happen. And soon.”
Tamar gave a laugh. “Dear brother, we have been through a civil war, a war and a whole lot of unrest. I think we earned the right to be bored out of our minds some days.”
He shrugged. She wasn’t wrong, but that did not help his restless mind. Tamar had Nadia. He had his poetry. Before that had been enough for him and Tamar had been the restless one. It was strange how the tables had turned.
Suddenly, Y/N stood right in front of them. “Tamar!” They hugged his sister. “Anatoliy!” he had totally forgotten about that nickname only they were allowed to use. He groaned, but still hugged them tight to his chest and smelled the sea breeze on their hair and the freedom they radiated.
Tamar laughed. “And up until now, he was so happy to see you. See, my little brother seems to get bored with life at the palace.”
Their eyes shot to his face. There was a strange glitter in them, like a magpie that had found an especially beautiful and colourful pebble. “I could say I told you so.”
Tolya shrugged. “Well, some days are worse than others. But it is nice having some time on my hands to read.”
Y/N was about to reply to that, when Nikolai stormed into the courtyard and hugged them just to swing them around.
“Well, if it isn’t my favourite privateer! What news and treasures did you bring me this time?”
Y/N cocked an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, I was your only privateer.”
“That doesn’t mean that I value you any less. You know I am a big fan of your work.”
Tolya smiled to himself and followed them into the Palace, listening to the barrage of words the two of them exchanged. He had totally forgotten about the way these two could talk. However, he could not help but smile. Sometimes things just fell into place.
*
Whenever there were important guests, there were banquets to be held and Tolya found himself looking forward to the evening, even though he was not the biggest fan of formal events. But ever since Nikolai had become king of Ravka, the events were less formal than before, nobody frowned at Tolya’s choice of clothes or his sister’s favourite axes.
He had seen little of them throughout the day, as they had been in strategy talks with Nikolai and Zoya most of the time. Even freedom seemed to come with some strings attached. But that made him look forward to dinner even more.
But even then, Zoya and Nikolai kept them occupied, there was a lot of business talk and then a little talk about how the Grisha flourished under Zoya’s and Genya’s care. Tolya knew that this was not his time and under the watchful eyes of Tamar made his way out into the grounds to escape the talk of Ravka. He loved the country, he just knew it too well by now.
He wasn’t too disappointed, the two of them had always had a strong bond and he knew that he would get his time with them, so he grabbed one of his oldest poetry volumes from his inside pocket and started reading in the evening sun.
He had lost track of time somewhere in between the lines and letters, but suddenly he heard someone clear their throat.
He smiled when he looked up and found Y/N standing in his sunlight, casting a shadow on his face.
“The day that I give in to mercy
I give up the violence that evil adores
The day that my burden is drowning
Over and over and over the waves kiss the shores” he read out loud.
He couldn’t see their face, but then they started to recite:
“Take me under the winds that blow
I know I’ll never be alone
To my freedom, I want to give all that I own
Breaking the laws
And leading the quest
Freedom the cause that beats in the chest
Wind in the hair and compass in hand
Til the day this very tale ends”
Tolya felt like they had suddenly torn the ground from under him. He knew these lines and they had been a constant and trusted comfort through the years of uncertainty and, well freedom. How did they know that?
“Anatoliy, you look like you saw a ghost?” they seemed slightly discouraged.
He shook his head to get his thoughts in order.
“How do you know this poem?”
A sheepish grin that looked almost guilty crept on their face. “I found this in one of your old trunks you left on the Volkvolny. And that page had been dog-eared badly. I did not know how personal it was. I am sorry.”
Tolya let out a long breath and shook his head. Then he grinned lopsidedly. “It’s an old friend. It has helped me through some rough times.”
“Care to have your friend back?” Y/N asked and extended their hand with the small book to him. How had he forgotten this one on the Volkvolny?
He gingerly touched the book with his fingers as if it could fall apart if he gripped it a little too hard.
As he browsed gently through the familiar pages, Y/N let themselves drop beside him and stretched out on the meadow.
“I miss you aboard, you know that, don’t you?”
Tolya chuckled. “Me or making fun of me with my sister?”
They seemed to think about it for a moment. Then smirked “Little bit of both to be honest.”
Together they sat in comfortable silence for a moment and looked at the slowly fading sun.
“How has life treated you here in Ravka?” The question carried genuine interest.
So Tolya weighed his answer. Then he replied. “Life has treated me well. Everything is just…splendid.”
They snorted at that. “Well, that does not sound too convincing.”
“No, no”, Tolya held up his hands in defense, “That is not what I meant to say. It is good. Everything is good. No war, no threats from a madman with enormous powers, no one wanting to dethrone or behead Nikolai…”
“Well that is definitely a first.” Y/N grinned.
Tolya shook his head but grinned fondly. “I know, I know, that last part is hard to believe.”
Y/N studied his face and he knew they could read it like an open book.
“You miss it, don’t you?”
Tolya sighed. “Is it so easy to see?”
“We are the same in many ways. And Nikolai and Tamar might not see it, but that is because they have new challenges, new duties and people to fill their lives with. And it is not their fault, so they should. But it is one thing to leave your old life to build a new one or if you just help somebody build their life, but can’t seem to find a home there.”
Tolya frowned. “I do feel at home here, with these people. It is safe, but I am…”
“You are missing a purpose, is what it is. You went through life with all your faith and these convictions and you fought for them, but what do you do when there is nothing left to fight for?”
“So what would you have me do, oh wise one?” Tolya chuckled.
Suddenly, their whole body seemed to thrum with excitement. “Come with me Tolya, be my first mate. Let us live our lives like the pirates we once were, find paradise somewhere at the end of the world, help the suppressed and crest the waves. These meadows here may be green and the forests deep, but the Oceans carry a far bigger promise.”
For a moment his golden eyes glittered with excitement, but then the old thoughts came creeping in. “I cannot leave Nikolai and Tamar. What if they need me?”
“Anatoliy, don’t you think it might be time to let them learn to fly on their own and to make your own path in life? Study literature in far away countries? Write poems about our heroic deeds as Ravka’s best privateers?”
“If I remember correctly, we are Ravka’s only privateers.”
Y/N made a throw away gesture with their hand. “Details. Not important.”
Now Tolya burst out laughing. “You spent too much time with Nikolai, that much I know.”
“Oh, and I don’t even spend as much time with him as you do.” they grinned. But suddenly they turned to him and clasped his hands in theirs: “Just think about it. That is all I ask of you. Promise me, you will think about it.”
With that, Y/N let go of his hands, got up and brushed some grass off their coat. “I’m cold and there is still a party in my honour inside. I will see you around, grasshopper.”
Tolya smiled as they sashayed back inside, feeling free for the first time in a long time.
okay absolutely 100% would have wanted to end up as one of the peeps on the pirate ship at the end of Shadow and Bone, that crew is fucking amazing. Mal as the Dread Pirate Roberts??? Tolya aka badass himbo of my heart???? and the FUCKING WRAITH????? Ravka who? Ketterdam what? I want to be on the Volkvolny
The Reviewer: The last 30 seconds of the show gave me chills.
My brain: okay relax, it’s probably the nichevo'ya.
My brain at the same time: Sturmhond. Nikolai. Tolya and Tamar. Sturmhond. Nikolai. Tolya and Tamar. Sturmhond. Nikolai. Sturmhond. Nikolai. Tolya and Tamar.
