Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Again”
His breathing was ragged but he lifted his hands again anyway. His hands formed the shape of a triangle and he pushed forward. He felt his power surge but nothing happened. He had no victim to use it on so most of his training had to do with stance and the proper steps to use if a threat were to come. His mom practiced both heartrending powers and healing powers with him but Benedikt would like to think he was much more skilled in healing.

“Again.”
While his body felt energized from the use of his power his mind wondered and he wished to be done, but his mother could be relentless sometimes. He lifted his hands but she saw the hesitation instantly. She hated pushing him past his limits even though there were days she definitely did. She walked closer to him and cuffed his cheek. Benedikt was 17 and yet every time his mom touched his face he felt like a child again.

“ We could be done, you did good today.” She said with a smile dropping her hand.
“I do good every day” He said back with a grin, taking his moms hand and squeezing it quickly before turning and making his way inside. He could almost feel his mom’s eye roll and he wasn’t even looking at her. He smiled.

This was a good day for them. On a regular day he would say he wanted to be done and his mom would sigh and say “really?” It didn’t sound like a big deal but she used such a different tone whenever she spoke to his younger siblings. She wanted more from Benedikt and when he didn’t give it, it hurt her. He could just tell. His mom would never admit this and Benedikt would never admit that he notices it when he looks at his moms face when she’s watching him use his powers. The slight hint of disappointment in her eyes at the lack of motivation he feels towards bettering his abilities. Him and his mom were the only ones in their immediate family who were Grisha so she just pushed him a little harder than his siblings.

He walked in the house and removed his jacket. He was training with his mom for an hour and half and the house was pretty silent. Normally it was filled with Greggory and Irene fighting. His father was mostly a silent man so he contributed very little to the noise their home brought. His mother came in shortly after.

“Where is everyone?” He asked.
“Your father took them to the market in town for groceries, I’m sure we can catch them if you want to meet them somewhere.”
“No- no it’s alright” He said back.

If it were up to Benedikt he'd stay inside all day and not do a thing. It was Greggory and Irene who went out much more than he did. Greggory was his younger brother by a year. Irene was his sister who was about eight years younger than he was.
Benedikt went upstairs to his room and shut the door. He felt he was close with his mom, sometimes closer with her then he was with his dad. But there were some things he couldn’t talk to her about. He laid in bed and looked at the ceiling. School, train, eat, sleep, and repeat. His days felt like they were blending into each other and the only two people in his life who seemed to notice were Greggory and his uncle Kaz. He was close with Greggory, he was his only real friend anyways. He’s sure he can’t say the same for him, Greggory had many friends.

Now was there a part of him that felt alarmed that Uncle Kaz noticed a change in him before his parents did? Ever so slightly, especially because Kaz lived quite a ways away from them and they only communicated through letters and even he caught on to the underlying tone of sadness that bled through each letter he wrote. Kaz never undermined him or even pitied him. If he were to tell his parents that he couldn’t get up in the morning his mom would want to try and fix it. And he wouldn’t blame her for it. She wouldn’t want to know that her son felt so overwhelmed that if a hole sucked him up from under his bed he probably wouldn’t bat an eye. But a part of him didn’t want to be fixed, a part of him felt that feeling sadness was better than feeling numb in this constant routine of life. Kaz seemed to be the only person to understand this.

After an hour or two he heard the front door open and knew the rest of his family came home. He stayed in bed a little longer, he loved his family but he didn’t think it necessary to be around them 24/7. Besides, he was almost done with his book. They had finished making dinner so he went down and sat at the table with the rest of them.

His father was big on family dinners and that was something he hardly budged on. It had something to do with how he was raised in Fjerda. Matthias told them stories of when he was a boy and then meeting Nina. Very little of what happened in between. Other than how he used to be Druskelle but he hardly speaks to them about what that was like. But he's always been curious. He looked a lot like his father. He had his height, blonde hair but slightly darker and his bright blue eyes. He was less broad than him but definitely not scrawny. He didn’t share much of his mom’s looks except maybe her freckles and lips. He sat by Irene. It was a rectangular table, his mom across from him.

“My love, supper looks wonderful, thank you for cooking.” his mother said, touching his fathers shoulder. He can’t remember the last time his parents weren’t affectionate. Even when they did fight it was his father who would gently grab her hand and listen to her express her feelings. He always said “it’s better to be with who you love in anger than to not be with them at all.” He made the family live by it too. When Greggory goes out of his way to make his siblings mad, which happens more frequently than not, they usually sulk but stay in the same room as each other. Or if Benedikt snaps at his mother, which is rare but not impossible, She usually hugs him moments after.

After dinner he retires to his room and lays on his back. He tries sketching but nothing is coming to mind so he puts the pen and paper on his side table. Greggory enters short after. Their house wasn’t the biggest but all five lived comfortably. Because of this, Greggory and Benedikt had to share a room.
“Did dad tell you what happened at the market yet?” Greggory started as he sat down on his bed. While Greggory was only a year younger than him he definitely was not considered the responsible type. For this reason their dad talked to him for important conversions.

“What happened at the market?” he asked, turning his head to face him, still laying down.
“Someone turned him down when he tried buying something.” This made Benedikt sit up.
“Do you know why?”
“No, he told me to take Irene away to show her something before the guy continued. But when I looked over he looked like he was talking to him for a while.”

“Huh.” Was all he thought to say. Greggory began talking about something else and Benedikt tried to listen but his mind wondered what he just told him and how odd that was. Was it a money problem? Why would his dad take them to the market if he knew he couldn’t afford to buy something right now? Their dad went down to town more than anyone in the house. They all practically knew him, no one could have spotted him and helped pay? It had to be something else.

The next morning he got ready for school. He put on his same brown button down he wears and the same jacket and the same pants and the same brown boots and he ate the same breakfast and kissed his mom on the same cheek before she left for work and put his papers in the same bag and everything was the same. All his days were the same. He’d go to school and probably talk to no one but the teachers then come home, hang out with Greggory, maybe play outside with Irene. Train with his mom, talk with his dad. Eat dinner, go to bed and repeat. He had to do something else.

“Mom” He caught himself saying before she left for work. “I want to walk to school today.” This wasn’t abnormal. Every once in a while he opted out on his dad giving him a ride and chose to walk. He chose these days on mornings when the air felt too thick and his mind was too loud.
“Yeah, yeah of course just tell your dad.” His mom said as she put a hand on his cheek before heading out of the house. He waited for his dad and brother and sister to leave for school before he started on the path. Their house was right on the edge of town and about a mile or two from the border of Fjerda and around the same length to school. When he walks he’s usually late but his parents just inform the school. They trust him. He begins his walk to school but then he turns to the woods near his house. Just a mile or two to the border of Fjerda.

Benedikts never skipped a day of school before unless he was sick. It’s not like his parents were incredibly strict. They wouldn’t have punished him if he told his mom he needed a day, she would just ask why and he didn’t feel like having to tell her. He turns back around and begins walking towards school.
That was the goal at least and he really couldn’t tell you the logic or reasoning on why he decided to turn around and go into the woods towards the border of Fjerda. He doesn’t know what he was thinking.

He knows his dad grew up there and knows that’s why they live so close to the border in the first place so that he could feel a sense of nostalgia when the cold from the North comes in. He knows his mom has always told all three of them to not go into the forest without one of them. And he definitely knows about Druskelle. Knows because both of his parents warned all of them but especially him about who they go after. After the war between Fjerda and Ravka all those years ago the Druskelle became less of what they used to be but they’re not completely extinct.

But he also knows that he needs this. He needs to do something different. He needs at least one of his days to be different. And besides, he’s been practicing his Grisha powers for fifteen years now. It would be insulting not only to himself but to his mom if he didn’t believe that he’d be able to defend himself.
Sure he got nervous when he got to the point of walking where he didn’t see his house anymore. But he kept walking anyway, his mom is definitely gonna yell at him. But so what if she did, they never got on Benedikt. It’s not like he was on thin ice before this. That’s Greggory’s job. He reaches the border. He’s sweaty but the breeze he feels from Fjerda feels nice. Why did he walk all this way again? Was it really to switch up his routine or did a small part of him want to disobey his parents just because he could? He’s never been defiant. He doesn’t remember the last time he said no to training with his mom. Could he really blame himself for—

THUNK

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud thump, it almost sounded like someone falling out of a tree. He was instantly on edge and tried hiding behind a bigger stump as he looked around. It wasn’t until he looked farther down the border. That’s when he saw the limp body, their head looked almost rolled to the side and he was not moving. They had a few fallen branches around them.
Oh shit someone might have actually fallen out of a tree.
Benedikt had to think quickly of what to do. He’s never seen a dead body before, does he risk going over to them and checking if they're alive? What if this person had just died? He’s sure seeing this will irreparably damage him more than he already is. But he also wouldn’t forgive himself if this person was alive and left to die because he was too much of a coward to do anything. Especially if he was the only person, it looked like for miles, who was able to do something. He moved closer to the scene, not without checking if anyone else was in the trees surrounding them. If his mom taught him anything it was to be observant.

He reached the body, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw the chest slowly move up and down in shallow breaths. Ok good, he was alive. From his strong features, stubble on his face and tall body he determined the body was a boy. He didn’t look much older than him. He also didn’t look Fjerdan. He had a longer nose and curly black hair with long eyelashes. Black hair wasn’t as common in Fjerda as the classic blonde was. A shared feature he had with his dad. Honestly Benedikt felt he looked more like a Fjerdan citizen then this boy did. His eyes moved to the very large rifle strapped to his back. His brain went to the worst thought possible but his clothes didn’t look like what he learned the Fjerdan military looked like. Was he hunting? Is that why he was in the tree?
His hands hovered over his collarbone and felt his heart beat, he also sensed a broken rib and a slight concern for a concussion.

“Ok,” Benedikt whispered in a breath. He sat down on the ground and gently rearranged the boy's body to be laying flat. He feels like he could heal surface level head damage and from lifting the boy's head to check he determined that it wasn’t that bad. He didn’t think he was skilled enough to heal severe brain damage so he thanked the saints it wasn’t that. But should he risk healing it? Head injuries were always scary because one wrong move and your patient’s brain dead. Maybe he’d work on his rib. This was less risky and something he feels he could do. Right as he was about to heal him a small light shined on his eyes and it threw him off balance. He looked down and saw the slight silver that peaked from under his coat. He moved his jacket out of the way and he swore he could feel the blood drain from his face as he came face to face with the silver wolf token with red eyes staring back at him.

This wasn’t just a boy, but a Druskelle.

Chapter Text

Benedikt jumped up and dropped the unconscious body he was just examining. Ok it’s fine, he tried calming his racing heart as he quickly looked around again for a sign that more Druskelle’s were around. He didn’t see anyone else but when there was one, that meant more weren’t far behind. He instantly turned around and started walking away back to the house. But then as soft as a breeze he heard his fathers words, strong as ever in the back of his mind.

“If you treat Fjerdans the same way they treat you then what change will get done?”

Benedikt groaned internally as he turned back around. Curse his dad for teaching him humility and kindness at a young age. He knelt back down and took his rifle from off his back and walked down the treeline with it and hid it behind a stump. He can help this boy but he’d have to take precautions first, what if he woke up after he was healed and shot him? He returned back by his side and took a breath before centering his hands over where the broken rib was. If nothing has woken this kid up yet then he knows this will, healing isn’t a smooth process even for Grisha. He moved and put a leg over his thighs so he wouldn't roll away and attack him. He pushed forward and sure enough, as he felt his ribs under his palms remaking themselves the boy’s eyes opened and he groaned.
Words soon left his mouth, they were rough and harsh and if it wasn’t for Benedikts parents making it a point that all of their kids learned Fjerda before Ravkan growing up then he might not have been able to understand him.

“No! No!”
“Hold still,” Benedikt said back in fluent Fjerdan. The boy desperately tried grabbing for anything that could be a weapon and this made Benedkit thankful he moved his rifle.
“I won’t die at the hands of a grisha!”
Do they not teach these people anything? Benedikt was more skilled at healing but that doesn’t mean he can’t stop a heart if he wanted to. If he wanted the boy dead he wouldn’t go about it this way.

“Enough” Benedikt tried to sound as hard as the Druskelle sounded but his voice shook. It was never in his personality to command and he fears now that that will soon turn into a weakness. He pushed down on his legs but with how much the black haired boy was moving to get him off, Benedikt determines he’s stronger than the initial look of him. Luckily he was almost done. And he’s glad for it because this savage boy began trying to claw at his face now. Why did Benedikt feel the need to help him again? For what? Pity? Because he was taught to treat the Enemy as a friend? Was it worth dying over? He felt the last bone heal itself into place and he instantly moved off of him and turned and ran. He even zigzagged in case the boy was fast and would grab his rifle and shoot. But when he looked over at the boy he saw him try to get up but fall back on his knees and touch his head. Benedikt silently thanked the saints he didn’t heal his head damage.

He didn’t run home, he ran past his house and through the streets until he reached down town. He didn’t think he was being followed but he didn’t want to risk it and bring Druskelle to the front door of his house. He made it downtown. His head was in searing pain from the length and the non stop running. He found an empty alleyway in the busy streets of Ravka and went against the wall. It wasn’t until he triple checked to make sure he wasn’t being followed he allowed himself to sit down and take a breath.
He stayed where he was for a while. He had nothing in his brain but pure adrenaline about what had just happened. He could have been sitting against that wall for an hour or five, he didn’t know. He walked all the way home and trudged up the stairs and fell onto his bed. His breath was incredibly ragged. He wanted to hide in his room forever but he knew he had to clean himself up before someone gets home. He bathed then looked in front of the mirror and examined the scratches on his face. It took about thirty-five minutes for his face to be clear again. He went back to his room and sat on his bed. His mind was still racing, this was probably the most exciting but scariest thing that’s ever happened to him. He doesn’t think he ever wants to encounter him again. It’s not that Benedikt was particularly frightened of the boy but more scared of the title he had.
The boy seemed young and still had facial hair. He knows Druskelle are forbidden to shave until they have completed their initial training. So he was a pre Druskelle. Maybe that’s why he didn’t have the full uniform. Benedikt grabbed for his sketch book. He had to doodle or his mind would explode, it was almost like his fingers began moving on their own as he formed the head, the ears, the sharp fur and the beady eyes until finally the poorly done sketch of the Druskelle wolf stared up at him from the paper. He closed his sketch book and hid under the covers. Maybe it was all the running or the adrenaline wearing off but as soon as he hit the pillow he fell asleep.
He awoke to Irene shaking him. “You better get downstairs, mom and dad are mad at you”

“Ok” he said, sounding much calmer than what his internal dialog was.. He doesn’t doubt that they were upset but Irene loves to over exaggerate everything so he can’t fully trust her either.
He rubbed his eyes and made his way down the stairs. Did his mom find out about what he did today? How would she have? His mom always did have a knack for knowing everything so he wouldn’t put it past her.
He looked around for them but couldn’t find them in the house until he looked outside and saw that they were sitting on the deck.

“Yeah, dad said he could never trust you again and he also said I was his favorite,” Greggory said from where he was standing in the kitchen leaning against the counter. With a big grin on his face.
“Did he? Cool, nice” Benedikt said with a small smile as he opened the front door to greet his parents.

They were both on the porch swing, there was other seating outside so he just awkwardly sat on the edge of one of the outside chairs because he desperately wanted
“What did you do today?” His mom spoke first. He wasn’t sure if his mom was asking to ask or if she knew that he risked his life saving a Druskelle today. He decided to just get the hard part of the conversation over with now.
“I’m sorry I skipped school.” He said back. She sighed but neither her nor his dad looked mad.
“Benedikt we aren’t mad that you missed school, but if you need a day to yourself we want you to be honest with us. You know, no legacy–”
“Is as rich as honesty, yup I know thanks” Benedikt said back, finishing his fathers quote. He’s pretty sure he has every single vague quote of his dads memorized. His dad smiled at him.

His mom however continued the conversation.
“It’s just, skipping school? I mean that’s just not like you. You can talk to us if something is going on.”
Nope nothing happening, I just have no friends and quite literally nothing is happening in my life right now and I feel like I’m meant for more than whatever it is I’m doing now. Also I fought a Druskelle today.

“I know, I’m fine.” His mom slightly tilted her head. They were far too similar for her to not catch on but she didn’t push. She trusted him to tell her things because he always has so that’s why the events of today were eating him up inside.

“My love, are you saying you never skipped a single school lesson when you were young?” His dad looked at her skeptically.
“That actually wasn’t what I was alluding to but now that we’re on the subject, I did not miss a single day of school for the 10 years of schooling I had.” His dad just looked at her and slightly raised an eyebrow.
“Matthias! I did not miss a day of school! Do you really think I’d be able to miss a day of school? Zoya would not have let me live!”
“No, I believe you.” He said back, smiling at her as if he could see right through her. Benedikt doesn’t doubt that he probably could.
There was a beat of silence before his mom quickly whispered. “Year seven some friends from school and I snuck out before class and hid under the–”
“I knew it” His father interrupted her while shaking his head. How sure his face looked made Nina throw her head back against the swing in a laugh.
“Nina, we're trying to teach our son integrity and you laugh?” This caused her to laugh harder. Benedikt just smiled. Matthias tried to stay stern but the corners of his eyes crinkled anyway.

“Ok!” His mom said after a minute to get the conversation back on track. “Whenever you need to stay home, tell one of us next time.” a smile still on her face. Benedikt agreed before going back inside, the echoes of his parents' laughter followed him all the way up the stairs.

Chapter Text

I fought a Grisha today. I also think I won. He ran away and I couldn’t shoot the thing because it hid my gun. It has been exactly seven hours since my last encounter and I’m not dead yet. I felt my insides twist so I assumed a heartrender. Maybe it’s a slow death thing, maybe whatever evil magic they did will finally catch up to me by tomorrow and I will be dead. Maybe–

“Dude, are you writing in your diary again?” Stephen shut his journal and tossed it under his bed.
“It’s not– I was going over where my post is tomorrow.”
“Right” Erik said with a shit eating grin on his face as he sat on his cot across from Stephan. “It looks like your reaction time to me walking in on you doodling has gotten slower since your “tumble” today.” Stephan told no one but Erik that the branch broke and he fell out of a tree. He was his closest friend so while he can trust Erik to not tell anyone he can’t guarantee that he won’t use it against him. Stephan just rolled his eyes.

“Lets say you were actually checking where your post is, do you think that’s gonna change? You’ve been on watch for three weeks now.”
Stephan wanted to argue but his friend had a point.
“What were you writing about today?” He asked him with a smile. His friend means well, but Stephan didn’t miss the condescending tone that underlines his words.
“A letter to my mom.” A lie but not an unbelievable one. Erik looked down. He’s been friends with Erik for eight years now. They met in school long before the draft took them.

The West of Fjerda began taking drafts when boys turned 15 since Fjerda’s Civil war started against the East. The Border War that happened with Ravka’s favorite witch irreversibly changed Fjerda’s politics forever. To this day in schools the west of Fjerda learn about the story of Zoya Nazyalensky. And how she somehow managed to not only aid Ravka and win the war against Fjerda by turning into a dragon, but how she also managed to undo the thousand year old belief of Djel. The soldiers who witnessed her jumped on the train saying that she wasn’t a witch but a saint. And that Grisha’s were a gift from Djel. It broke Fjerda into two sides, those who believe in the great cause of Djel and the Ice court and the old country's politics, and those who tarnish his name, those who want to incorporate Grisha. Within the last few years Queen Zoya has even chosen to aid the east as an ally in this pointless war. So now half of the continent isn’t just fighting against the East but against Ravka as a whole

This War’s been going on for 22 years now. There’s been talk that it will end sooner because of the east having the advantage of Grisha but we’ve been holding on. If it weren’t for Stephan’s insane competitiveness he’d want to just rip the bandaid off and end the war. He’d be able to go home, see his mother and father again after 2 years of tear stained letters. He missed his mothers hot chocolate and her soft hands, and even his fathers strictness and witty humor. He shook the thought from his head. He couldn’t think about the east winning, even if it meant going home again. Because he doesn’t doubt that the radicals would demand justice and he’d be sent to death. The entire Army unit would. No, he would go home when the West won.

The dining bell began ringing and Stephan was looking forward to eating. Not just because he was starved and his head still rung through the bandages but because eating was used as a great distraction for him. Even if the food tasted and looked like hot garbage. If he wasn’t in the war he swears he’d be a Fjerdan class Chef, or maybe even a cook aiding the army by serving better food.

He ate with his friends. Erik kept making jokes and Bjorg, a friend he only recently met, chimed in. He only half listened as his thoughts continued back to what he did today and the torment he felt at the fact that he couldn’t tell anyone. He’s sure he could and he could let other soldiers track him and kill him but what would that do for him other than ruin his chances of becoming a Druskelle? Surely they’d think he was too slow and not good enough because a Grisha manipulated his ribs.

Does he want to be a Druskelle? Is it his number one goal in life? Maybe not, he agrees for sure, that Grisha are abominations and deserve nothing good in life but it slightly pains him that it’s either become Druskelle or disappoint your country. Even though he could argue that becoming a baker would do just as good to Fjerda then hunting Grisha would.

“How did you trip again Stephan? You were on the border watch today right? Did you see a group of pretty girls over in Ravka and get distracted?” Bjorg teased.
“No” Answered Stephan as he put his palms in front of him on the table and rested his chin on the other side of his hand. “Just your mom” He did a small smile when his friends laughed at that. He actually didn’t think much of girls since joining the army. He didn’t have time to think of anything except procedures and training and protocols. But before that he would be lying if he said the concept wasn’t nice.

Stephan would rather put himself on a prier then tell Erik or any of his friends here how much of a secret romantic he was. He loves to write stories about romance and love and him finding the one. He wonders what color hair she’ll have or her eyes or her mouth. What she’ll sound like, how tall she’ll be. He really just wants to be in love.
“Where will your post be tomorrow?” Stephan asked Erik. Erik kept bringing up Stephan being by the border he almost felt bad that he had yet to check to see where his friend would be at. Erik slowly smiled, “Uh the same, but in a few weeks they want me to do final steps of training. If I pass they want me to go with them to an ambush in Ravka.” His friend said this so humbly. Nothing but a small smile on his face.

“Erik!” Stephan said enthusiastically. Bjorg also wore a stupid grin on his face. Stephan was scared for his friend, sure. But he also knew how much Erik wanted this. He was obsessed with being a Druskelle for as long as he could remember. Whether this was mandatory or not Stephan is sure Erik would probably still be here.
“So– so what’t this mean then? How long will you be gone?” Stephan asked with a smile still on his face

“Let's not go so far, who knows? Maybe I won’t even complete training.” Stephan got the underlining answer in his friend's words.
“A while,” Stephan said, so Erik didn’t have to. Erik gave him a small, almost sad smile, but then his full one returned when Bjorg and everyone else around him patted his back and side hugged him. Sephans only friend here would have to go to Ravka for what? Weeks? Months? Stephan just put on his fake smile and let Erik enjoy himself, enjoy this win. He just wishes he could pass so that he could go with him. Or at the very least be anywhere but border patrol.

They didn’t talk much when they both stumbled into their bunkers, Erik sat on his cot and watched his friend laughing with some of the others in the unit. He didn’t join in, he figured Erik would debrief with him soon about what this meant.

The next day he was back in this stupid tree monitoring the woods. The same tree and the same woods he’s been monitoring for weeks now. He hates more than anything to admit this but that Grisha encounter was the first cool thing that’s happened to him since he got drafted. It was what they promised young boys in school. When you join the cause you get to have fighting Grisha under your belt. He’s just gonna have to tweak what happened and say he won.
The days soon began blending together. Everyday he checked his post and it was the same and everyday Erik worked harder to pass his final Steps to be a Druskelle. The days got gloomier looming over the fact that Stephan will be mostly alone at this camp for who knows how long. And in a blink of an eye three days already passed. Three days of doing nothing but watching the border. Three days of moping. Three days of writing in the tree. Three days of counting the ants crawling around him. Three days of– His spiral was cut short when he saw the same Grisha who tried killing him walking into Fjerda from the woods.

Chapter Text

Benedikt couldn’t actually tell you what his thought process was because truthfully he didn’t even know. It’s not like he had a death wish, it’s not like he hated his life so much that he’d rather be thrown in a torture chamber by Druskelle. It happened so out of the blue too, He woke up, got ready and before his mom left for work he told her he wanted to take another day. She said yes as long as he told her what was going on with him when she got home.

And what would he tell her? He had a day to come up with something at least. As he’s walking in the woods to Fjerda he too is trying to figure out his motives. He hated school, but if he hated school so much why couldn’t he just stay home? Why risk his life like this? Well he didn’t hate the Druskelle boy so maybe that was why he went, his parents never taught him to hate Druskelle, the opposite actually. This boy however hated him, because he was taught to hate him. Maybe he just wanted to see if his head injury was ok.

His mom did so much when she was his age, met so many people, changed a lot of lives. All Benedikt does is rot in his room and practice his Grisha powers to help no one but himself. His mom always prepares him for the “just in case” well what if this was it? What if after this he can compare even just a little bit of himself to his mom. Would she think he was brave? With all the stories she’s told of her time in the army, would they share some sort of bond over this other than the obvious one of his Grisha powers? If he meets this Druskelle and it goes well and he doesn’t die then he promises himself that he will tell his mom about this, he swears. He'd even tell her about his lack of critical thinking and no emotion towards death. Well if he wants her to be proud of him then maybe not that part.

He makes it to the border finally and stops to look around. It’s quiet and peaceful, he heard nothing but the quiet breeze and the russell of the leaves falling in preparation for Fjerda's relentless winters. He breathed in that cold air. Then he began to speak.

“Hi, are you in a tree again?” Benedikt mentally kicked himself for starting that way. He swallowed and continued.

“I don’t see anyone, but then again I didn’t see you last time I was here either. So you must conceal yourself well then.” Benedikt began to sound weird and unnatural to his own ears. What was he doing? Why did he come back here again? He felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him at the mere prospect that he’d be able to make any kind of difference like his mom once did. He turned around to leave. His back facing Fjerda, that was his first mistake because in a moment he heard a thud of someone hitting the ground then the click of a rifle. There was a long pause of Benedikt waiting with his eyes closed for the gun shot that never came.

“Hi.” Benedikt was about to die and all that came out of his mouth was hi? Typical.

“Keep your hands up and turn around.” The boy said. His voice wasn’t commanding but it was stern and something he figured he ought to listen to. Benedikt did as he was told, opening his eyes and facing him. He looked him over quickly and he could tell the boy was doing the same to him. When he first looked at him while he was slumped over and unconscious his eyes were closed. But now he saw how piercingly blue they were and how scary he kind of was to look at up close. His jaw seemed sharper and he looked like a predator ready to kill with the hole of the rifle up against Benedikt's face.

Wait, Benedikt didn’t want to die. He didn’t, he goes through these moods where he looks up at his ceiling and contemplates what it might feel like but he doesn’t want to. Not really, he felt his hands begin to slightly shake and he knew the black haired boy noticed. He didn’t want to die.

“What are you?” The boy asked simply. It was a question that felt like a statement.
“Healer, I healed you.” Benedikt answered quickly as if he was on trial and anything he said could be used against him.
“You tried to kill me.”
“If I wanted you dead you would have been by now.”

For someone who didn’t want to die he really had a mouth on him. Benedikt was overly cocky when he was nervous and his father would joke that that would get him killed one day, he should have taken it as a premonition. The Druskelle remained silent. So Benedikt nervously tried to plead his case.

“I shouldn’t have come back. This isn’t really the thanks I thought I’d get.”
“You seem to not be afraid of dying.” The boy said. His face was serious.
“I’m not, but I also wouldn’t mind living either.” With how badly Benedikt seemed to be shaking he was thankful his voice remained smooth.
“You’re a spy.” The boy said. How much longer would they be going back and forth like this?

“I am not. I am Fjerdan.” The boy’s mouth lifted in a quick smirk before returning stoic. As If Benedikt's answer was amusing in any way.
“And I’m grisha”

Benedikt breathed out. “I’m not a spy. Look, I shouldn’t have come back. This isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done, I’ll admit. But you took a fall and I figured I’d see if you were ok.”

The Druskelle's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion.

“Liar.” He said blankly
“I’m not a spy!”
“Prove it.”
“Prove it? How do you expect me to prove I’m not a spy that’s such a–” His words were cut off by the boy aiming the gun closer to his forehead.

“My dad is Fjerdan and my mom is Ravkan, my parents wanted me to be fluent in both. I swear those are the only two languages I know. I’ve picked up on some kerch but that’s just because, Ketterdam, that’s where my uncles and other cousins live and I’m around them a lot. I’ve been to Fjerda once when I was like five, maybe, with my dad. It was for Hringkalla, that’s his favorite holiday and he wanted me to see the history of it.”

“You ramble.”
“You have a loaded gun to my face, should I be calm?”
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.” Benedikt answered truthfully. But the boy took a moment to let his eyes roam over his face, his broad shoulders and his height. Benedikt looked much older.
“No you're not.” He said back. His voice is humorless.
“And how old are you?” Benedikt asked. There was a long pause.
“Twenty-four.” he lied. Benedikt too looked over the boy’s frame and he couldn’t help but let a smile slip.
“No you're not,” the ghost of the smile still on his lips.”At least we know for sure that you’re not a spy. You can’t lie.”

The boy’s face twisted in confusion and frustration. “It was never up for debate whether or not I was a spy. I am accusing you of that.”
“Yeah well I was also accusing you of that. And now I know you’re not.” It didn’t make sense but he liked how annoyed the Druskelle was getting. He noticed his grip on the gun loosening too. It made Benedikt's chest feel less tight from fear, and much more confident to be able to ask.

“What’s your name?”
“It doesn’t matter what my name is, or what your name is for that matter, not when I bring you back to the camp with me so you can be sentenced.”
“I see.” Benedikt said back. “Humor me then, give me a fake one. So I can call you something.”

“Are you no longer scared? I’m still holding a gun to your head.” The boy asked, he slightly lowered the gun so he could really look at Benedikt. His face contorted in slight confusion. He showed a lot of emotion on his face. More than what he was told Druskelle showed.
“You won’t shoot.” Benedikt said, sounding fairly confident. Or he’s pushing his luck.
“What makes you think that?” He said raising it again.

“Because you would have by now if you were going to.” Benedikt said. He really didn’t know but he was hoping this would throw him off into not shooting him. He wasn’t sure where his logic was coming from but it seemed to have worked. He dropped the gun away from his face but he still held his grip on it.
“Can I drop my hands?” Benedikt asked carefully.
“What, so you could use your black voodoo magic to stop my heart? No.”
“I hope you know I’m not gonna kill you.”
“How would I know that?”
“Why would I ask you for your name if only to kill you after?” This made the Druskelle think for a moment before shaking his head slightly with a shrug.
“I don’t know, you think I care to learn how you monsters think?” The boy said back. His words were hateful but his tone wasn’t. He sounded more dumbfounded that Benedikt hasn’t put that together yet. Like his thinking was common sense.

Benedikt was quiet for a moment, they both were.

“My name is Benedikt.” He finally said, his voice was regular. Calm, almost as if he was introducing himself to someone new from school. The Druskelle looked at him for a minute. As though he was trying to read his mind to weave out any secret motive he had. Benedikt also took a moment to look at him. How his cheeks were stained red from being outside for so long. He had on the Druskelle token but not a uniform. He had on fingerless gloves and wore a ushanka on his head. Not only did he not look Fjerdan, he didn’t even look like a Druskelle. Not to mention the stubble that still remained on his cheeks that Benedikt noticed a few days ago. From what Benedikt has learned from his father, don’t you get to shave only after you’ve been initiated?

“This is usually the part where you would say your name.”
“I don’t even trust you enough to lower your hands, you think I’m gonna give you my name?” He said back.

Benedikt couldn’t help but give him a small smile.

“What can I do to make you understand that I didn’t come to kill you.”
“Nothing, You’re a Grisha. There's nothing you can do to make me trust you.”

“Then don’t trust me. I’ll leave.” Benedikt said. He kept his hands up as he began to walk backwards back into Ravka. He didn’t mind talking to him. It gave Benedikt a rush of adrenaline that he desperately needed in his life. But he also knew that there was a line still and he wasn’t trying desperately to cross it when the other side was a bullet to the head. He couldn’t push his luck. It was already incredibly rare that Benedikt just happened to come across a Druskelle that knew he was Grisha and wouldn’t kill him on sight. What more was he hoping for?

“See? I’m leaving.” Benedikt said, only turning his head to look behind him every once in a while so he wouldn’t run into a tree. The boy just cautiously watched him. It wasn’t until he was more than a few yards away that Benedikt saw him throw his rifle back over his shoulders and reclimb his tree. That was when Benedikt turned around and jogged the rest of the way back to his house.