Aleksander Angst - Tumblr Posts

Pretend | The Darkling

A/N: i made the darkling vulnerable in this fic. i also tried my hand at writing flashback scenes like Leigh Bardugo, and idk, i think it turned out okay. could definitely use work, but there's always room for improvement.

warnings: mentions of wounds, flesh, and blood.

*my taglist is in my bio and linked in my masterlist as well*

MASTERLIST

You quietly knocked on the door, listening for the soft rasp of Aleksander’s “Come in.” When you heard it, you tentatively stepped in and closed the door behind you. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his kefta and shirt draped on the foot of his bed. His torso and arms were covered in bandages, and a sickly sweet smell hung in the room--you’d have to talk with the Alkemi later about tweaking the scent of the salve they concocted for Aleksander.

A bowl of water and a jar of the salve sat on the bedside table, accompanied by rolls of bandages and an assortment of cloths. You immediately set to work soaking the cloths in water as Aleksander began unraveling the patchwork of bandages on him.

Neither of you said anything while you worked; you didn’t need to. You had already established a routine on that fateful day, as soon as Genya and Ivan had found Aleksander on the steps of the palace and hauled him the rest of the way in and to his room.

You could never forget his screams of agony the night he was brought back.

You could never forget his screams echoing in the halls before all went silent.

You remembered rushing to his room. Genya and Ivan stood by his bedside, and you realized that Ivan had probably had to lull Aleksander into unconsciousness before he woke anyone else. Neither the Tailor nor the Heartrender needed to ask you to help; there were herbs and juices already on the bedside table--no doubt brought by Genya--and you had set to soaking cloths and quickly mixing up a temporary salve without another word.

The blankets were pulled back and you could see poorly wrapped bandages crisscrossing Aleksander’s torso and arms. You inwardly cringed at the shoddy work, but gestured for the removal of the bandages.

“Ivan, make sure no one else comes looking this way.” Genya had muttered, and set to work removing the bandages while Ivan nodded once and stepped out of the room soundlessly.

You almost cried when you finally saw the extent of the wounds. Raw and red angry flesh with black veins streaking everywhere and the insides of his wounds had screamed at you, but you took a deep breath and wiped away any salves and other fluid before beginning your healing work.

Your hands moved slowly, mending the broken skin and flesh as best as you could, but even you had to admit: you were nowhere near the best Healer nor did you think that any supernatural wound caused by supernatural creatures could ever be healed--if at all. You weren’t even sure why you had been called; there were plenty of other better trained Healers in the palace.

But you worked anyway, and soon, the red flesh had looked less angry than it did when you came into the room and Aleksnader, though unconscious, looked a little less pained. The wounds still were painful, though, if Aleksander’s heart beating at a rhythm faster than normal and slowly rising temperature was any indication. When you had finished working and bandaging the rest of his wounds with Genya’s help, you smiled tiredly at her and told her to get some rest.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn’t wake up again.”

Genya patted your arm, then took your hands in hers and squeezed them reassuringly. “Come wake me to watch him later. You need to rest, too.”

When Aleksander woke that morning, he saw you curled up in one of the armchairs across the room with an open book in your lap and smiled softly. He could almost feel as if the pain wasn’t real if he thought about how the tiny smile you sported as you slept looked adorable. But he quickly schooled his features into a blank expression as the door opened and you jolted awake, book falling to the floor with a dull “thud” as you stood up quickly. You had winced at the sound, then picked up the book and tried straightening your hair and smoothing the wrinkles out of your kefta before Ivan escorted you back to your room.

When you had come back to his room that night, Aleksander suddenly asked you why you were helping him as you began peeling off his old bandages and tossing them in a bucket by his bedside table. You could hear his unspoken question, though: Why do you even care?

“You’re in pain, sir-”

“Aleksander is enough. I think we’re well past formalities now.”

It might’ve been a trick of the light, or even your imagination, but you thought you had seen the faintest of smirks on his face and heard the slightest of teases in his voice.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Of course. Like I said, si--sorry, Aleksander. You’re in pain.”

He gave the barest of head shakes. “It hardly hurts.”

Hiding a small smile, you had him stand as you moved to wipe off excess salve and dried blood on his back.

“The physical pain might not hurt you, but…” You sighed and stepped back to his front and looked up at him.

“You hurt here-” You tapped his chest, right over where his heart was. “-and here.” You tapped his head, right on his temple. For a moment, you rested your hands where they were, one on his heart and the other cradling the side of his face. You could feel the beating of his heart, the impulses of his brain, the tightening of his jaw...then you took your hands away and put them around your bandages.

Aleksander would never admit it to anyone, but he found he had missed feeling your hand cradling his face and heart.

You had waited for him to say something else, but he stayed silent.

“Who hurt you, Aleksander?” It took everything in you to keep your voice steady and to keep it from cracking.

Again, he didn’t reply, and you shook your head and finished your task in silence.

Since that night, you watched him from the shadows, just always out of sight. You made sure he was still able to work and walk around, but you could see him hide his grimaces of pain or excuse himself and disappear towards one of his rooms. You never brought it up when you saw him at night or in the morning, but you knew it had to stop soon. He’d never heal, and it hurt you to see him hide his pain.

“What?” Aleksander suddenly said, jolting you out of your thoughts.

You blinked, then realized you had been staring at him with a frown. He was studying your face with a slightly curious--but mostly unreadable--expression.

“Nothing, just...thinking.”

“...About?”

“My first couple times healing you. And after you...just after.”

“That jarring, hmm?” There was amusement laced in his voice.

You snorted, then sighed. “No, rather...saddening.”

He paused, the barest of frowns tugging at the corners of his lips. You had clearly surprised him.

“Scars don’t jar me, Aleksander. They haven’t for a long time. They stopped being frightening long before I began mending you, anyway.”

He hummed in thought, then turned around so you could reach his back. The scars were looking much better than they had that one night, no longer red nor angry--but they still held the inky black veins that writhed and slithered ever-so-slightly as the light danced on it as if alive.

You finished spreading the salve on his scars, then carefully wrapped the bandages around his torso and arms again, like you had so many times now. As you helped him lie down, you couldn’t help but say, “I don’t know how you do it.”

A beat passed before you registered what you had said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“How do I do what?”

You took another moment to respond.

“Pretend you’re okay.”

Aleksander frowned. “I’m not pretending.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a lump grow in your throat. Now is not the time to start crying.

“Yes, you are. Every single day.” You ducked your head, turning away from him. “And it breaks my heart.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, but then decided against it and moved to make your way out of his room. He had heard you enough; it was time to leave and pretend you had never said anything.

“No, we’re not done.” Aleksander sat up and climbed out of bed as fast as he could with the bandages and wounds. You could see him trying to hide his grimace from the sudden movements he had made. No doubt the cloth rubbed against his cuts and gashes the wrong way every time he moved. He grabbed your arm before you could leave, holding it in a firm grasp that was loose enough for you to pull away from if you wanted.

“I’m not pretending,” he repeated.

You shook your head. “You might be able to fool others, Aleksander, but you can’t fool me. You think I can’t see it? You think I can’t see that you’re hurting?”

“My body is riddled with still-healing scars; of course I hurt-”

You dropped the bucket of used bandages and wrestled your arm out of his grasp.

“Do you remember-” you snapped, then closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Now is not the time to get angry, either. “Do you remember...what I told you, my first morning mending you?”

“That I was hurting here-” He took your left hand and placed it on his temple, your hand cradling it exactly like that morning. “-and...here.” His other hand took your right hand and held it over his heart.

“Yes, and do you know why I told you that?”

He shook his head.

“I told you that because you were reluctant to let anyone help you, save for Ivan or Genya…” you sniffled, then cradled his face, being careful of his scars. You looked him in the eye and were surprised to find tears welling up. “I saw you, all these days. I saw you wince and grimace and hide your scowls as best as you could...and when the pain was too much to bear, you disappeared to your rooms.”

Aleksander ducked his head, no doubt sheepish that someone--no, not just someone: you--had seen him.

“All I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to show pain. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s okay.” you murmured.

“I know.” he nodded, his voice barely audible.

“It’ll take some time, but please, you’re hurting yourself more, and it kills me every day.”

“I know.” His voice cracked slightly, shaky with every breath he took.

“Let me in, Aleksander. Let me help you.” You sniffled again, quickly wiping away at the stray tears that fell. “Please. I don’t want to see you hurting any more than you have to.”

“I-”

He cut himself off and pulled you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He shook as sobs wracked his body and he slowly sank to his knees. You crouched with him, settling him down against his bed, then pulled the blanket off his bed as you sat next to him. Wrapping the blanket around your and Aleksander’s shoulders, you felt him slouch down more so his head was level with yours, then lean his head on your shoulder. You rested your head on his, smiling at his pickiness.

“It hurts, Y/N, it hurts so much. I want it to stop.”

“Shhh...I know, love, I know.”

“I want it to...want to...want it to go away.”

“And it will, in time.”

You held his hand firmly, like you were anchoring him. He wasn’t living in his pain; he was here, in the Grand Palace, with you.

“Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

Aleksander moved slowly as he climbed into his bed. You pulled his blankets over him, then brushed a stray hair from his forehead.

“Sleep now, love, for tomorrow we can start anew.”

You stepped away from his bedside, but felt a weak hand try to grasp your hand. You looked down to see him trying to reach for you, his eyes still wet with tears as they asked a silent question.

Will you stay?

Smiling softly, you grabbed a book off of one of the many bookshelves against the wall and climbed onto the empty space next to him, opening up the book and beginning to read. Aleksander’s hand found yours and gripped it tight, then pulled it close to him, resting it by his heart.

“Can you read to me?” his shaky voice broke the silence.

“Of course.” you replied, and began to read about the tales of two heroes, one cunning and the other loyal, traveling from town to town and getting into all sorts of trouble. As the night wore on, you found yourself struggling to keep your eyelids from drooping more and more.

You finished the chapter quickly, then closed the book and set it down next to you. Aleksander had long since fallen asleep, his hand still clutching yours close to his heart. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple, then leaned against the headboard and closed your eyes.

“Sleep well, dear one.” you whispered. “I will be here when you wake.”

~

Taglist: @odetostep @pansysgirlfriend