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In the days following their effort eliminating Rotwang, the Wild Hunt is finally dwindling down. With no strong figures to present as the head and direct their attack, the force of the murky abyss finally lets the Lightkeepers to breathe. And breathe easier they do, as the Starshyna rotates patrol schedule more loosely, less people check in with Ivar in the medical bay, and the logistic station sees their stacks not evaporating as quickly as before. Even Flins, who is assigned the largest patrol area encompassing what is practically the southern half of Nod-krai, has time to mingle amongst the Piramida folks—which he rarely has the time for before. The elusive Ratnik entertains more frequently the invitations from headquarters for some drinks and a few rounds of card games he used to play occasionally with Nikita when the Starshyna was still a patrolling Ratnik.
It is such a day when Flins come to visit a sick Illuga who has been ridden with flu after the young captain weathered a bad storm during his rotation in the Cliffwatch Camp. Nikita convinces the fae to go for a few rounds, as they wait for their resting younger ward. Well, boyfriend in the case of Flins.
“Fiancé,” Flins corrects Nikita. “I did propose to him.”
“What?!” He splutters. “When? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Hold your horse, my friend.” The fae shrugs his shoulders. “He hasn’t given me any answer, but I feel like he’d agree.”
“Of course he would, it’s you.” Nikita grumbles. He throws a card to the table. “Your turn.”
Flins shakes his head dramatically. “Oh, dear. What a bad hand I’ve been dealt with.”
They are sitting atop the platform in front of Illuga’s house. Flins has dragged a couple of chairs and a table, too worried to leave the young Captain too far. The calm and slightly warm sea breeze sweeps around them, as it usually turns in the late summer when the autumn hasn’t shown itself in Nod-Krai. And so, the fire-water hasn’t made its appearance to the table. Instead, their homemade honey mead is flowing freely from the Lightkeeper’s brewhouse as it sees its peak season. Flins has won a special bottle brewed with the rare Natlanese honey in the previous round (of course he did), but Nikita has a good feeling seeing the cards in his hand for this round, as he tries to win back the special honey mead.
That is until he looks up to Flins’ face. There’s a smirk on his face. Well, for the sake of a more accurate description—there’s a suspiciously evil smirk on the fae’s face that said he has a plan for Nikita. A bad, evil plan that will cause his total downfall and utter defeat. And Nikita will not like it.
“What are you planning?” He asks accusingly.
The evil smirk is toned down into an almost innocent smile. “I’m only planning how to win this game, my friend.”
Nikita snorts. “Yeah, right.”
Flins puts down his card to the table and looks pointedly at Nikita. “Back to our previous topic. Do you think Illuga would appreciate a wedding?”
He returns to look over the cards in his hand as he tries to think of the answer to Flins’ question and his own strategy at the same time.
Nikita sighs. “I mean… I don’t think he would mind going without a wedding, but I think Piramida would appreciate such an event. We can have a banquet for a happy occasion for once.”
“Hm… yes, I agree.”
“It’ll be a good chance to invite everyone who has helped us, too. The Frostmoon Scions, the Favonious Knights, the Krumkake Craftshop, the Voynich Guild and Curatorium. Maybe even the Traveller will show up.”
He is going to pull up his winning card and put it down to the table when the fae opens his damned evil mouth.
“Heh. As you wish, Father-in-law.”
Nikita freezes instantly as he feels a shiver down his spine.
That doesn’t sound like my good friend, my Starshina, dear Nikita, or even Lord Nikita—anything Flins usually calls him with. And so, Nikita’s brain refuses to connect.
He slowly raises his eyes to meet the pupilless golden ones, narrowing like a pair of crescent moons in self-satisfaction. The evil smirk is back and Nikita loathes it.
“Flins, what the hell did you just call me?” he asks lowly.
“I said,” Flins repeats, smug as a cat that got the cream as he purposefully draws each syllable as clear as he can, “As you wish, dear Father-in-law.”
The shiver is back in full force. To be this guy’s father-in-law?! Dear Torchforger, he can’t imagine anything more ridiculous!
Well, yes, technically he would become that, but Nikita has been trying hard to ignore the idea because it gives him the creeps. But of course this menace would use it against him.
“Ack. Fuck it!” Nikita shoves all his cards away, effectively throwing a white towel. “You win, you dick! Have that bottle for all I care! But never call me that again! Don’t make this thing weirder than it already is!”
Flins blinks innocently. “Oh, my. I didn’t know you would mind me becoming your son-in-law.”
“St-stop that!” Nikita splutters again. “Flins, I swear if you open your mouth about that damn thing again, I would personally kill you, Azure Flame or not!”
“Ah, I see. So, it really is a weird thing for humans.” He bows slightly in his seat. “Well, I apologize for my misconduct, my good friend. How about we open this mead now, I’m actually dying to try the taste.”
Nikit huffs as he acquiesces to the fae. He accepts the alcohol poured politely to his glass, even as he drinks it in a sour mood.
“Oh, this is certainly delicious.” Flins exclaims as he savors the alcohol.
Yes, the mead is sweet and delectable, but Nikita is busy strangling the not-so-oblivious fae in his mind.
Oh, don’t get him wrong. He is not mad at losing the card game, as the chance to win against Flins from the beginning is already 1-to-9. He is not mad either at the idea of Illuga marrying Flins, obviously. But after years of learning how to see through most of the fae’s bullshits, Nikita is mad that Flins finally finds the words he is not immune to.
He just knows that the fae is not apologetic at all and will do that thing again when he needs to figuratively stab Nikita at his weakest point. A strategic weapon to go against him should the chance necessary for the fae to use it arise in the future.
Dear Torchforger, maybe he shouldn't have pushed these two together.