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Summary:

I was given a prompt on tumblr, and thus this was a product of it! Just something incredibly small, and a little sweet. To warm our cold little hearts. Enjoy Matthias and Nina cuddling basically.

Notes:

“Your hands are so much larger than mine.” Nina and Matthias.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Your hands are so much larger than mine. Is it common among barbarians?”

Nina traces the lines of Matthias’ palm. He shivers every now and then, and she moves closer. Not that closer is really an option.
Their bodies are already tangled in fabric and furs. He’s given up on fixing the shoulder of her kefta, to which she had given a triumphant smile.
He must have noticed, because it earned a whispered “Witch.”

“You love me,” she cooed.

Matthias made a short and gruff sound, his pale cheeks flushing with colour. Nina brushed her fingertips against them, remembering the tan
of his skin and how long his hair had once been. Those memories still haunted her,
old ghosts roaming the halls and rattling the windows of her heart.

She’s pulled from the reverie by the brush of lips against her skin. She blinks, seeing Matthias again, in time to see him watching her.
He’s placed a chaste kiss to the palm of her hand, concern rising from the depths of cool, Fjerdan blue eyes.

“Where did you go, little red bird?” Nina’s features soften and she takes her hand from him. He lets her go, already opening his arms as she settles against him. In a few hours, Matthias will be too warm — but he wouldn’t dare disturb Nina (and Djel save anyone who did).
She always does this, works her way closer, until he has his arms around her.It’s not a cage; it’s her home. And she is his.

Nina leaves small kisses against his jaw; she knows it makes him weak, but sometimes — like now — she does it with good intention.
And shortly after, she is pressing her face into the crook of his neck or against his chest.

“Matthias?” she murmurs against his shirt, sleep heavy in her voice.

“Yes, Nina?”

“Tell me a story?” He felt her smile; it isn’t the first time she’s made such a request. The first he shirked her for it.
Told her he wasn’t a storyteller. But occasionally, he told a small tale. Bits of Fjerdan lore, fantastical adventures that he wasn’t sure existed or happened.
And sometimes… he told her pieces of himself.

“Somewhere in the white mountains, a wolf cries…”

Notes:

One day in the very far future, I plan to retouch this small piece and work it into something bigger (and better)! Nina Zenik is one of my favorite Grishaverse characters, and I'm so happy we got to learn more about her in the recent release of King of Scars!