Chapter Text
———
An automatic groan is drawn from the waking Danica, the sound rumbling within her chest, and eventually making its way to her throat. Without even thinking to do so, she yawns and moves to sit on the edge of her lofty bed, the curtains across her room doing little to shield her groggy eyes from the biting morning light.
Once awake enough, her eyes carefully open, immediately landing on a standard yellow coloured sticky note stuck to the edge of her bedside table. No doubt, just seeing what looked like doodles on it, was Commander Vesna’s doing.
Letting out a sharp huff, Danica plucked the offending note off of her desk, and read it.
“Came over last night to retrieve my missing hairpin, sorry! You are oh so cute when you sleep, by the way. - Sincerely, Vesna.”
She stares at the note between her fingers as if it owed her money, her gaze drifting from the obnoxious words over to the small doodles. As usual, the conceited fae found it necessary to draw herself with outstanding detail, and an orca next to the aggravatingly impressive chibi illustration.
Deciding to not let a sticky note of all things ruin her day, Danica crumbles it in her hand, right on cue with another maid knocking and entering with her breakfast tray, and leaving just as swiftly.
Now, Danica had long grown used to Vesna waking up early just to spite her by littering her breakfast with vegetables the fae didn't like, so her frown hardly shifted when met with the sight of sliced carrots shaped like stars placed neatly next to her hotcakes. It was practically routine, despite the obvious disdain from the taller woman.
Sighing under her breath, Danica simply takes a small baggie from her bedside drawer, and carefully picks the stray vegetables off of her tray, storing them in it as if it was evidence to present in a trial. And to Danica, it absolutely was.
"What is the point of requesting that your veggies be sliced into star shapes if all you're going to do is waste them?"
She would surely tell the mischievous fae off about the egregious misconduct she'd been piling up. From impulsively entering her room to collect a missing hairpin, to using her food tray as a waste bin, and calling her cute. Surely all bases would be reached.
———
The heavy, frosted oak doors of Her Majesty’s private chambers glided open without a sound. Danica stepped through, balancing the Tsaritsa’s silver breakfast tray with practiced ease.
She expected the quiet sanctity of the morning. A foolish thing to expect, as instead, she was greeted by a familiar, vibrant laugh that instantly made the muscles in her jaw tighten.
Vesna was already there. Leaning against a gilded pillar, tossing her missing hairpin into the air and catching it, looking entirely too bright for the hour. On the Tsaritsa’s personal side table between them lay a stack of papers. Whether they were unfinished paperwork the Commander failed to complete, or just Her Majesty's business, was entirely up to a coin flip.
Danica didn't break her stride. She offered a flawless, crisp bow to the Cryo Archon, setting the tray down with the same precision that she'd honed for 3 years. Only when she straightened did she slide her gaze to Vesna, hitting her with a flat, entirely unimpressed stare.
"Commander Vesna," Danica said, her voice dropping into its usual low, frosty register. "A word."
Vesna beamed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, Dearest Danica! Good morning to you, too. You look exceptionally terrifying today. Did you sleep well?"
Making her way over to the obnoxious fae in just a few long strides, Danica grabbed her by the elbow. Firmly enough to steer her, but gentle enough not to cause a scene, and pulled her into the shadow of the heavy window drapes, away from Her Majesty's direct line of sight.
"My room," Danica hissed under her breath, crossing her arms as she leaned down slightly. "Is not a lost-and-found bin for your elite squadron. If you lose your hair accessories, you buy new ones. You do not break into my quarters. And for the last time, keep your vegetables out of my food trays."
"Break in? Such a harsh choice of words for a beloved friend," Vesna giggled, leaning in close, completely unfazed by Danica’s sharp glare. "I have a key for such dire times! And besides, I had to ensure my favorite Head Housemaid wasn't starving. I left you a few... nutritional supplements on your tray."
"I am throwing your carrots in the trash if you don't take them back."
"You wouldn't dare! That is waste, Danica, and Her Majesty frowns upon waste," Vesna teased, tilting her head. Suddenly, her playful smile softened, just a fraction, shifting into something more observant. "Though... considering how loudly you were grinding your teeth last night, maybe you do need the vitamins. You were thrashing quite a bit."
Danica stiffened. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her own sleeves. "Last night."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Danica said flatly, looking away toward the frost-tinted window as she straightened her posture.
"But you do." Vesna murmured, her tone uncharacteristically quiet, though the bubbly cadence still lingered underneath. "You were muttering in your sleep again. Something about a 'perimeter' and 'the heat.' You looked like you were about to punch through your headboard, so I gave you a few pats on your back. You quieted down after that."
A cold spike of dread shot through Danica’s chest.
The phantom memory hit her instantly: the suffocating, dry heat of the Sumeru desert. The smell of smoke and copper. The distinct metallic scent of blood in the air. A hand resting on her shoulder blade, steady and grounding, whispering that the ambush was over.
Danica pulled herself out of the memory with a sharp, ragged breath, her hyper-vigilant mercenary instincts flaring before she locked them back behind her icy facade. She looked back at Vesna, who was watching her with an expression that was far too perceptive for anyone's comfort.
"I do not require your 'pats,' Commander," Danica said, her voice a little rougher than intended. "If I am experiencing a nightmare, you wake me up. Immediately. Do you understand? Drag me out of bed if you have to, but do not interact with me in such a manner while I am asleep."
Vesna blinked, surprised for a fleeting second by the sheer gravity in Danica's eyes. Then, true to form, she bounced right back, flashing a brilliant, unbothered grin. She reached out and lightly tapped the front of Danica’s collar, tugging it down just slightly to catch a glimpse of her mouth.
"Understood, Captain Serious! Next time, I'll bring a bucket of the finest, ice cold fresh water. I've always wanted to see what kind of face you make when you're startled. I'm convinced your expressions are just as frozen as Fellfrost Peak."
Before Danica could snap back, Vesna spun on her heel, her thin and glossy wings fluttering as she sauntered back to the Tsaritsa’s side, leaving Danica standing alone in the shadows, her heart hammering against her ribs. It wasn't often that Danica got the last word in any bickering sessions with Vesna, so she decided to save her breath.
“Speaking of that tundra,” Vesna began, plopping down on the foot of Her Majesty's bed, “My dispatched troops need to be withdrawn from that area, your Majesty. You know how petulant they get when the cold winds nip at their wings and feet inside of their boots, don't you?”
The Tsaritsa promptly lifts her gaze to the audacious fae, already expecting Danica to yank her off of the bed like she always did whenever Vesna got too comfortable, but to her surprise…
Danica hadn't moved an inch from where she stood, nor did she even spare a glance in their general direction.
Strange. Her Head Housemaid never ignored an opportunity to lunge at her childish coworker whenever appropriate. Was the linoleum flooring truly that interesting? But no matter, she had no qualms with being a stand in for Danica when it came to Vesna.
The Tsaritsa clears her throat, then slides her breakfast tray and cup of honey gilded mint tea to the side, giving Vesna her attention again.
“The Druzhna are on good terms with the Snegovik and Snegurochka, and have more than just adequate shelter at the House of Hesperides. Are you trying to dodge your backlog of paperwork, Commander?”
Immediately, Vesna holds up her hands in defense, but her delivery doesn't hold up with her initial request.
“Oh, your Majesty, what a harsh accusation! I don't have that much paperwork to handle. I can get it all done when I'm finished retrieving my troops! I swear!”
All the Tsaritsa can manage in response to Vesna's antics is a sigh, and a roll of her wrist to dismiss her, and the eager fae takes that dismissal as permission to do as she intended.
“Alright! I'll be back before you're able to say my name backwards!”
Now, that does grab Danica's attention out of whatever lull she was pulled into in the first place, and she walks over to the tall wooden doors, opening them to dismiss Vesna, and closing them after nudging her out with a stiff finger.
The heavy oak doors clicked shut, swallowing the echo of Vesna’s parting footsteps. Silence reclaimed the room, thick and heavy with the scent of burning incense and now chilled tea.
Danica immediately went to work. She pulled a silk cloth from her apron, her movements fluid and silent as she began dusting the mahogany desk near the window of the Tsaritsa's chambers that overlooked the city. She kept her posture rigid, her eyes tracking the microscopic particles of dust, refusing to look toward the center of the room.
"You tolerate her deviations from protocol quite well, Danica."
The voice was low, melodic, and entirely devoid of warmth. Just like ice shifting over a deep lake. Yet, it carried an undeniable weight. Her Majesty, The Tsaritsa, did not look up from her paperwork. Her gloved fingers held a silver quill, her expression perfectly serene, detached from the very world she governed.
Danica paused mid-swipe, her fingers tightening on the cloth. "Commander Vesna is... eccentric, Your Majesty. But her results with the Druzhna are indisputable. I merely ensure her antics do not disrupt the palace staff or your comfort."
"Is that all?" The Tsaritsa dipped her quill into dark ink. She still did not look at Danica, yet the air in the room grew noticeably colder. "You bicker like two soldiers wrestling for the same rifle. Yet, when she speaks, your pulse quickens. When she leaves, your shadow lingers by the door."
Danica felt a sudden, terrifying urge to drop to her knees and apologize, but she forced her spine to straighten. "It is my self assigned duty to keep her in line, Your Majesty. Our clashing is merely tactical friction. It will never jeopardize my service to you, nor her command."
The Tsaritsa finally paused. She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were an endless, hollow blue; the eyes of a god who had loved too deeply, suffered too much, and yet felt more than she was allowed. She looked at Danica not with judgment, but with a profound, chilling pity.
"Love is a heavy burden, Postelnitskaya," the Archon murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It makes the strongest warriors reckless. It turns walls into glass. If you intend to harbor it, do not let it cloud your sight. A fractured shield protects no one."
The Tsaritsa lowered her eyes back to her papers, effectively dismissing the conversation.
"Yes, Your Majesty.” Danica replied, her throat dry. She went back to dusting, but the Tsaritsa's words felt like a physical weight pressing against her chest.
“A fractured shield. Is Her Majesty referring to the possibility of me becoming reckless, or my time in Sumeru?”
———
Danica had taken a train to the very edge of Snezhnaya, and was granted the ability to travel beyond its borders into Nod Krai. Since Vesna wasn't available to take on this mission, and neither were her Druzhna troops, Danica had taken time out of her schedule to take care of it herself. After all, she didn't have any other important duties to take care of.
The wind howling across the jagged cliffs of Nod Krai was a different kind of cold than Snezhnograd. It was raw, smelling of salt water, damp earth, and smuggled goods.
Danica pulled out a hand drawn portrait of the suspect accused of smuggling kresnik crystal from Snezhnaya, studying the man’s face, reading the descriptions detailing his character, and memorising the important things before pocketing the thin paper again, and silently approaching a small cave opening near the abandoned laboratory. And just as she suspected given the time of day…
There stood a man. A familiar man.
Right there in the cave entrance, a brunette male held a small satchel, studying unopened crates in front of him and tapping his foot. He seemed to be the same height, build, and complexion as the accused, and that on top of the suspicious circumstances, gave Danica all the proof she needed to blitz him.
Waving two fingers next to her head, the officers she brought along quietly begin approaching the cave entrance when they receive her signal, followed by Danica herself.
The whole ordeal is resolved in a matter of seconds.
Inside the damp, limestone cave, the smuggler was on his knees. He was trembling violently, his hands bound tightly behind his back with heavy rope. Scattered across the dirt floor were several wooden crates, cracked open to reveal the glowing, jagged shards of illicitly hoarded Kresnik Crystal.
“Yep,” an officer said after tapping an edge of the warm resource with his baton. “This is the pure kresnik crystal that was flagged missing.”
“Good. Get whoever you can to haul these crates, and put them in the fourth car.”
“Yes, Lady Danica.”
And with that, the smuggler wails, watching the crates he'd worked so hard to secure be whisked away.
Danica stood over him, her arms crossed over her chest rather than in their usual spots. She had not a drop of sympathy for the man.
"Please! Please, I beg of you!" the man wept, his face smeared with dirt and tears. "I didn't do it to treason against the Tsaritsa! I have debts... the casino in the lower district, they were going to break my legs! And my ex-wife... she promised me, she swore on her life that if I paid off the debt, she would come back to me! We have a daughter, please!"
Danica didn't blink. She drew a standard-issue Zapolyarny Palace arresting warrant from inside of her apron, checking the wax seal with absolute indifference to the man's sobbing.
"Your domestic arrangements do not exempt you from Snezhnayan trade laws," Danica said, her voice cutting through the damp cave air like a blade. "Kresnik Crystal belongs to the state. By hoarding it using unpermitted means, you have committed theft against the Crown."
"It was for love!" the man shrieked, dragging himself forward on his knees until the boots of the elite guards behind him forced him back. "Do you not understand? I did it for my family! I did this to change for them! For love!"
Danica stopped. She looked down at the pathetic, weeping mass of a man. To ruin his life, risk execution, and grovel in a dirt cave, all for a woman who had already abandoned him once…it was entirely illogical.
"Love." Danica scoffed under her breath, the word tasting bitter on her tongue.
She turned her back to him, signaling the guards with a sharp flick of her wrist. "Take him away. And alert the watchers of the border that the smuggled goods have been retrieved."
As the guards dragged the screaming man out into the blinding snowstorm, Danica stepped to the mouth of the cave. She pulled Vesna's crumpled sticky note out of her pocket, staring at the messy chibi and the little orca doodle before slowly folding it back up and tucking it securely against her chest, right above her racing heart.
"Love is strange," she muttered to the empty storm.