Tamar Kir Bataar - Tumblr Posts
“I think she can take care of herself”
Everything's Different
Tamar x Nadia
A/N: This is based on the end of season 2, not the books, also I apologize I’m still new to writing these.
Summary: Nadia's still new to the Volkvolny, but she's certain of one thing - and that's how she feels about her.
Word count: ~ 1.1k
Warnings: Season 2 spoilers
It’s strange, being on the Volkvolny after everything that happened. I didn’t expect it, of course, but she changed my life in ways I couldn’t imagine a few years ago. The Darkling is gone, Alina is leading the second army, Nikolai Lantsov is King. Now I'm working on a privateer’s ship, chasing down slaving ships. Surrounded by some of the most dangerous people I've ever met - Tamar, Tolya, and Inej. Four people whose bad side I will avoid at all costs. Yet, they feel like family. I miss Adrik but I know he’s strong, and when the time came, all the cards were on the table, we fought and survived together. His true strength showed, even with only one arm.
It’s nearly 2 bells, and Tamar just finished her watch. The weather is mild, and it’s warm enough that I don't need a jacket. There’s nobody out on deck, and we’re sitting with our backs up against a few crates, taking a look up at the stars. I’ve never been this far from Ravka and I can see why people reject the Second Army, why they choose a different life. There’s no clouds to obscure our vision and the horizon stretches on and on. There’s thousands of stars out there, and Tamar seems to know all of the constellations and can point them out.
“How do you remember them all?” I ask her.
“I’ve been doing this for a while.” She grins. I love how easy her smiles come, how bright they are. Her hand reaches to link with mine, I intertwine our fingers. Hers are rough and calloused from the time she’s spent at sea. I haven’t known her too long but this feels right, this feels like where i’m meant to be and who i’m meant to be with. She keeps pointing out more constellations, their names and the stories behind them, but the words blur out as I’m looking at her profile.
“Are you paying attention?” There’s a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.
“I got a bit distracted.” I say, my cheeks flushing pink. Her hand moves and gently traces circles on my palm.
“By what?”
“You know.”
“I want to hear you say it.” Her voice is low. A familiar sensation runs through me, maybe it's her tone, but my blood seems to rush straight down. She raises an eyebrow and I can tell she senses it. Heart renders.
I roll my eyes, “distracted by you.”
“Was that so hard?”
I ignore her and turn my head back up to look at the stars. Her hand starts gently tracing up and down my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I smile and lean into her, her arm coming up to wrap around my shoulders. This time her hand is tracing circles on my shoulder, moving my top aside so her hand is on my bare skin. I shift so my body is facing her, and let my hand trace circles on her thigh, my cheek pressed against her shoulder. I hear her breath catch as my hand moves up higher, but she doesn’t move to stop me. I let my nails scratch up and down her thigh, over her leather trousers.
“What are you doing?” she asks
“Nothing.” I smile sweetly
“Mm. Sure.” Her hand cups my cheek, our eyes meet. Hers are unique, golden and tilted, and absolutely mesmerizing. Her thumb brushes across my cheek bone, her eyes drifting down to my lips, and back up to meet mine. My breath catches as her thumb drags across my bottom lip. Her face was so close I could smell the rum from rations earlier, on anyone else it might’ve been obnoxious but on her it was alluring and addicting. And sandalwood, she always seems to smell like sandalwood. It’s become one of my favorite scents. My heart beats faster, and her lips turn up at the corners. Our lips draw closer, bit by bit, until they’re just a hair's width away. I watch her eyes, and hers watch mine, I can see the desire in hers. My lips open slightly and my heads tilt and we meet in a soft and gentle kiss. Her hand cups the back of my neck and her kisses grow firmer.
I let out an inelegant squeal when her hands grip my hips, shifting me so I’m on her lap, my legs straddling hers. I laugh and my hands meet around the back of her head to play with the hair at the nape of her neck. Her hands drift up and down my sides, before she leans up to kiss me again, our bodies notching perfectly into each other. I moan into her when her hand gently squeezes my ass, and she takes the chance to slip her tongue inside my mouth. I press into her further, and let my nails scratch up and down her back. I love the taste of toasted sugar on her tongue, and the rough, slightly chapped, feeling of her lips.
There’s a creak of something on deck and I startle, leaning back, suddenly aware of our position and location, “anyone can see us.” I hiss.
“They can’t see us here.”
“They could find us.”
“So?” The smirk on her face is frustrating - the last thing I want is to be caught by anyone in this position, I'm still new here. I throw my head back and groan quietly. She takes the chance to lean forward and place gentle kisses on my neck.
“Tamar.” I whisper, not making any move to stop her.
“Tell me to stop.” She says, leaning back to meet my gaze.
I don’t. That’s the last thing I want right now. She goes back to kissing my neck, biting and sucking to leave small bruises I'll bully her into healing after. My hands press on her back, drawing her in closer, and I can swear I feel her smile against me. I let our bodies melt together, and cup her face with my hands, pulling her back up so our lips can meet again. The kisses are soft and comforting, they feel like coming home. Quicker than I can blink, she flips us so i’m underneath her, her hips straddling mine, and my back pressed up against the crates. She winks at me before tracing her hands across the sides of my body, from my hips up around the curve of my breasts. My breath catches and she stands up, extending a hand to me. My jaw drops.
“We should get back down below.” She says.
“You’re kidding.” My face is incredulous, she’s going to leave it like this.
“Nope.” She says with a wink, and I grumble before taking her hand, letting her pull me back up to my feet.
We walk hand in hand back to our hammocks. “I’m mad at you.” I sigh.
on my way to rewatch season 2 .. and by that I mean skip to all the parts that have tamar and tolya
shadow and bone season 2, episode 1
that's when she knew she lost her
Tamar Kir-Bataar x f!Reader
Word count: ~3.4k
Warnings: Character death
A/N: This is based on the books! nsfw version here
Summary: She saw the look in Tamar's eyes when the Sun Summoner took her second amplifier, and that's when she knew she lost her. Not that she was hers to keep in the first place.
Kostya’s wind carries her, and she lands on deck with a thud grunting before rolling out of the line of fire, breathing out a sigh of relief. She made it off the whaler, back on the volkvolny. Her relief is short-lived as Tamar yells, “He’s up.”
The Darkling’s shadow monsters rise up from the deck of the old whaler. She curses but takes position, listening for Sturmhond’s whistles and orders. The next minutes go by in a blur, she doesn’t have time to think, no time to mourn, just barely enough time to breathe and take the next action. Her hands move rapidly to manipulate the water surrounding them.
She collapses in exhaustion once they’re out of range, she notices there’s only two tidemakers left, including her. The others must’ve been up on the rigging.
Her breaths come heavy, but her skin is glowing with the tell-tale flush that comes with using her powers. Her back is up against the rails, the cool metal digging into her spine, when Tamar leans up next to her. Her hand clasps her shoulder.
“I’m glad that's done.” She says.
Y/n turns to look at her, “Thanks the saints. I never want to see him again. Maybe his dead body.”
“Maybe we’ll get that lucky.”
“It’ll take more than luck.” She mumbles. Tamar’s arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. The action feels strange after so many weeks without any contact, but her arms wrap around her lower back, pressing herself into her. Tamar always runs hot, and her heat is welcoming this time.
“We’ll celebrate later.” She says, her voice low enough so only y/n can hear. Her cheeks flush pink and her heart beats rapidly, the promise is enough to make her nerves tingle. She remembers the last time they ‘celebrated’ together.
Flashback
They’d finally dropped the last of the slavers they’d captured off in Kerch and set sail again. Tamar practically dragged her back to their room and she was laughing the entire way. The laughter stopped when the door shut behind her, her body slammed into it. Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip out of nerves. Tamar’s thumb brushed lightly across her lip, tugging it free from the bite. Y/n’s eyes gaze to the floor, nerves starting to get the best of her. Tamar’s thumb presses under her chin, tilting her head up so their eyes will meet.
“Are you nervous?” she asks
“No.” She replies a little too quickly, and grimaces, remembering Tamar can always tell when she’s lying. “Maybe a little.”
“Why?”
Y/n sighs, her palms coming up to rub at her eyes. “I don’t know.” Tamar tugs her hands away, and pulls her away from the door, yanking her flush against her chest, moving them towards the middle of the small room. Her breath catches and she freezes. Slowly she moves her arms so they’re wrapped gently around Tamar’s shoulders. She studies every inch of her face, but still avoids eye contact.
“Look at me.” Tamar’s tone tells her it isn’t a question. She tears her eyes up from her lips to meet hers. “You’re fine. We don’t have to do anything tonight. Or ever.”
Her eyes narrow at the last two words, and her hands come up to cup her cheeks, pressing their lips together with urgency. Tamar’s hands dig into her lower back, drawing their hips together. Y/n has a feeling this is the reaction she wants, and she gives right into it.
End Flashback
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” The grin on her face is infectious but thankfully hidden, her face pressed into Tamar’s chest. Once her heart has calmed a little she pushes back. “We should get back to work.”
“Probably.” Tamar sounds reluctant but presses a kiss to her forehead, and heads back to talk to Sturmhond.
Y/n presses two fingers to her forehead, the spot where Tamar just kissed. She hears a snicker from behind her and whips around. Kostya, one of her closest friends on the ship, is laughing at her. She sends a spurt of water to his face, and that knocks the laughter off of him. He retaliates with a small gust of wind.
“Oi.” Privyet’s voice comes through, “Quit that.”
They start laughing, both looking slightly chastised. They stand to the side as the sea whip is hauled on deck. Her hand drifts nervously to her left wrist, the space where her amplifier hides. Taking a second amplifier sounds like absolute insanity to her, but thankfully that’s something she doesn’t have to worry about. She doesn’t move when the scales are offered, just exchanging a small glance with Kostya. Scales still freak her out somewhat and she shudders. For once, he doesn’t make fun of her and she’s grateful for it.
–
She knows her jealousy is stupid, but it’s reasonable to be upset that she’s kicked out of her room with barely any notice. Not to mention, nobody bothered to ask her, just “Tamar’s sharing with the Sun Summoner.” And now she’s in one of the old closets normally saved for less welcome guests. Her one bag is moved over quickly enough. At least she has her own space now, and doesn't have to listen to Tamar snore or sleep talk. In her opinion that’s a weak consolation prize, and not really much of a prize at all. Her things are quickly shoved away and she heads up to grab her rations while she can. There’s only two tidemakers now, and she has a feeling her schedule is about to get a lot more packed. She stops after a few drinks, keeping herself sober enough to post a reliable watch.
The first half is quite calm. She missed the quiet ease on the Volkvolny, the relative safety of knowing you’re surrounded by people you trust. The waves are gentle, the ship gently bobs side to side. Y/n pinches her cheeks a few times to stay awake, making small talk with her partner. The lanterns and voices on deck catch her attention. Alina’s taking the amplifier. Her eyes widen, and her heart beats a bit faster - hopefully this won’t be what kills her, there’s much more poetic ways to go out. Her eyes immediately find Tamar standing next to Tolya, the two of them looking the part of solemn sentries. Sentries for a Saint.
The power and light that burst from her is undeniable, and y/n finds herself taking deep breaths to find her calm again. She’s lucky she didn’t fall off the rigging. Her face feels like it’s been freshly sunburnt. As always, her eyes search for Tamar first. And that’s when she knew she’d lost her. The look in her eyes. Y/n didn’t know exactly what it mean’t, just that Tamar belongs to someone now. Well, Tamar never belonged to her in the first place, and theres a strong chance she’s reading into this too much, but she’s always been particularly perceptive, and her hunches usually turn out to be right. Angry tears prick the corner of her eyes.
‘You’re a mercenary,’ she thinks to herself, ‘not a jealous, petty school girl.’ She takes a deep breath and schools her features back into a look of awe, before anyone can catch on. Someone replaces her and she takes up post at the stern, ready to help move to ship along. It’s likely someone spotted the light show Alina put on, and the best they can do it get as far away as possible.
–
The next few weeks go by quickly, and she barely sees Tamar. Well, she sees her everywhere, but rarely interacts with her. Is y/n avoiding her? Or is Tamar avoiding y/n? They never got to celebrate. Whispers say that they may be leaving to do something with the Sun Summoner and Nikolai. Saints, she feels like a whiny child. She resolves to find out more on her next watch with Tolya.
Later that day
“Do you think you’ll go with him?” She asks, staring out into the horizon, keeping her voice just loud enough so he’ll hear.
“With who? Where?”
“Captain. To Ravka, with Alina.”
Tolya’s eyes are alarmed, like he didn’t expect her to know what was going on, or what was to happen.
“Saints Tolya, i’m not stupid.”
“Nobody called you stupid.”
“Maybe someone should’ve. That’s besides the point.” She turns to face him, taking her eyes off the water momentarily. “Are you going with them?”
He sighs. “Keep looking.”
She rolls her eyes but listens. She’s surprised when he keeps speaking. “You’re not asking about me. You’re asking about Tamar.”
“Well, you both go everywhere together.”
“He thought about asking you along.” Tolya says. He’s talking about Sturmhond. Or Nikolai. Depends on the situation. I know they’re going to Ravka, but to do what i’m uncertain.
“Really?” I hummed, trying to sound as disinterested as possible, it’s not working.
“But after we lost Hendrik and Dmitri.”
It feels like an iron fist is gripping her heart, and she chokes out her next breath. The other Tidemakers lost against the Darkling. It’s only her and one other now.
Tolya pauses. “After we lost them, you’re needed here.”
“Needed.” I let the words roll around my tongue. Needed here. But wanted? What if I want to be somewhere else? “Thank you for the heads up.” She gives Tolya a terse smile, trying her best to look content. I can tell he isn’t convinced, but he does smile back.
End Flashback.
–
Three nights later, Tamar finds her. It’s dusk, and she’s sitting up on deck, deep in conversation with Kostya. She feels a tap on her shoulder, and doesn’t turn around and hesitates before turning around. Kostya glares at her and she finally does. Tamar’s standing behind her, one hand outstretched.
Tamar doesn’t miss the side eye y/n sends to Kostya, but chooses not to comment. It shouldn’t feel like she’s headed to the gallows, but somehow it does. She takes her hand, and lets her heave her up to her feet. She shakes her hand off as soon as they stand up, and sees the hurt flash through Tamar’s eyes. It’s enough to make her start chewing on her bottom lip,
“Come on.” She says, taking the initiative and leading them below decks to somewhere more private. They end up in her room this time, and she chooses to stand on the opposite side of the small room, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. For once, Tamar doesn’t speak right away, instead it seems like her eyes are taking in every inch of her - memorizing every detail. Y/n keeps avoiding eye contact, leaning up against the wall and tilting her head up to stare at the overhead.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.” Tamar says finally.
Her heart jumps, and the same tears from a few weeks ago threaten to prick her eyes, “are you excited?” She asks, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling.
Tamar sighs before crossing the room. Her hands cup her cheeks, guiding her back down to try and meet her eyes. “Why don’t you ever look me in the eyes?” She murmurs. Y/n doesn’t have a good answer, what’s she supposed to say?
‘I’m scared i’ll cry if I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. I’ll quite literally get lost in your eyes. It’s too intimate. It scares me.’ Instead she doesn’t say anything.
“Give me something, please.” Tamar says, this is the most desperate she’s heard her voice. She cringes at herself when the desperation gives her a sick sense of satisfaction. Give her something? It’s been weeks and they’ve barely exchanged a word. If she wants something she can have her fury and pain. The sting that comes with feeling abandoned, discarded, tossed aside for the next big thing.
“You want something?” She spits out through clenched teeth. Tamar takes a step back, her eyes widening slightly at her tone. Normally y/n is level-headed and calm, it’s rare to see strong emotions leak into her voice. “Weeks. You’ve rarely spoken to me. Granted I didn’t try very hard, I know you’ve been busy with your new Saint.” She struggles to keep her tone kind. “I’m happy for you, by the way, that you’ve found a purpose. And I get it, your life has changed. That doesn’t mean you had to …” Her voice breaks and she can’t finish her sentence.
“Leave please.” She croaks. Tamar doesn’t move and y/n opens her mouth to tell her to go again, but instead she’s wrapped in a bone-crushing, enough that she can barely breathe, let alone move her arms and hug back. She doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t complain, relishes in the touch and contact. Her body melts into her, leaning slightly. Just one hug and she melts. ‘Pathetic.’ she thinks to herself. ‘You’re being pathetic.’
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, pulling back, and running a hand through her short hair. Y/n’s never seen Tamar like this, lost for words or confused. She always seems so self-assured, so strong in her conviction, fearless.
“Sorry for what?” She knows the answer, but she wants to hear it - needs to hear it. Hear Tamar admit it, validate what y/n felt these last few weeks.
“Neglecting you. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to celebrate.”
Y/n laughs, not an amused chuckle or a happy belly laugh, one of disbelief. “If you think that’s all I cared about then you’re much less perceptive than I thought you were.” She tries to put the emphasis on ‘cared’, but it doesn’t come out that way. Care is more accurate, she still cares.
Tamar seems confused, “I don’t understand.” Her tone is genuine and honest. Y/n feels herself soften more, a little bit of the ice melts away. She finally meets her eyes.
“I care about you dimwit.” Tamar’s eyes narrow at the insult, but she doesn’t break eye contact. “I wanted … I still want more for us. I want to get to actually be with you, beyond just ‘celebrations’, and the occasional hug or kiss on the forehead when you remember.”
“Why haven’t you said anything before?”
Her voice raises slightly, “because you outrank me and I don’t want to be fired, because I thought it was obvious, because I thought you’d have said something by now.” The outranking part is true - not that it matters too much on the ship, but enough for her to be nervous. Rogue Grisha have difficulty finding safe employment in this world. Safe in the sense of nobody forcing her to serve an army or enslaving her. Her job isn’t safe by any means, but it's freedom.
“Quiet.” Tamar hushes her.
She takes a deep breath before speaking in a normal tone. “Tell me I'm delusional.” She’d have laughed at Tamar’s expression if the situation was different. “Tell me you never wanted me. Tell me you’re leaving and not coming back.” Tamar reached out and held one of her hands.
“You’re not delusional, I do want you, I am leaving, but I don’t know if I’m coming back.”
“Three out of four, not bad.”
Tamar huffs, evidently tired of the argument, before pulling her into a bruising kiss. It catches y/n by surprise but she returns the same energy.
Later, they're cuddled in her hammock together as Tamar whispers sweet things into her ear. Y/n is lost in her own world, but a pinch to her side brings her back.
“Hm?” She mumbles.
“You need to get dressed.”
She groans but stands up, getting some new clothes for herself. One hand braces against the wall to keep herself steady, she looks into the small mirror, her neck and chest are covered in small but deep purple bruises. Her jaw drops as she turns to look at Tamar, who just laughs at her.
“Sit. I’ll heal them.”
She jumps up on the chest, scooching until the back of her knees hit the edge.
Her hands are gently as she grazes over the spots on her neck, and chest, leaving just one behind. Y/n rolls her eyes, it’s typical of her to do that - leave one in an area she can easily conceal. She heals the bite on her hand as well. The silence after becomes uncomfortable.
“I don’t know what to say.” The words come out before she can think twice.
“I’ll say I don’t regret a single moment of this. Of anything.”
She lets out a small, sad smile. “I don’t either.” And brings her arms up to pull her into a gentle kiss. Nothing else needs to be said, they’ve come to an understanding. They both know it’s a goodbye kiss - a goodbye for now.
–
The next early morning, she’s on watch as they leave.
“Saint’s willing, we’ll meet again one day.” Her words came out low, almost like a whisper or prayer. They thankfully went unheard, and she waved to the dark sky as Tamar flew off in the hummingbird.
Kostya clapped a comforting hand on her shoulder, “They’ll be alright.”
She turns back, giving them a terse smile. He’d mistaken it for worry, probably a good thing.
The crew makes themselves scarce for a while, keeping careful tabs on every hint of the Darklings location. If they were caught by him they likely would not survive, and likely would come to very painful deaths, something none of them were particularly interested in. She wonders if he would spare Grisha, she hopes not - if they were to be captured she’d rather get the same treatment as the rest of the crew, as morbid as that sounds.
The next few months go by pretty quickly, and when she gets offered the chance to go to the Spinning Wheel, she takes it. A break from the seas will do her good. The idea of seeing Tamar doesn’t cross her mind, surprisingly. She’s become a memory - a good one, but a memory.
–
Spinning wheel
It’s strange being with her crew on land. Everyone's the same, but a bit more tense. There’s a certain safety at sea - it’s more difficult to be ambushed. She’s surprised when Alina remembers her - even her name, and cheers along with the rest when she cuts the top of a mountain off.
Y/n noticed the connection between her and Nadia almost immediately and it didn’t hurt like she thought it would, she offered her congratulations instead.
An argument starts when Sturmhond tells her she’s going on the mission to hunt the firebird. Well, asks her, he knows he can’t really tell her to do anything. She supposes she should call him Nikolai now.
“You’re the best tidemaker we have.” Nikolai says.
“They could bring anyone else.”
“Tamar asked for you.”
“That’s the problem.” She whispers.
He sighs, walking around the table to clasp a hand on her shoulder. “I know you two have history, but I’d feel better knowing you’re there. Tamar asked for you for a reason, and I doubt it’s to have a sordid tryst in the middle of the night.”
Y/n’s eyes narrow and she glares at him as he laughs. “They’re taking Ana.” Ana is another friend from the Volkvolny, a Materialki that put the last amplifier on Alina. Her eyes light up, and the look on his face tells her he knows he’s won.
“Fine.” She says reluctantly. “I’ve always wanted to visit there.”
“I doubt that.”
“No, but it makes me feel better.”
“Whatever it takes” he winks before leading them out of the room.
The ambush surprises them all. She takes another look at the crew, a tidemaker isn’t completely essential, and there’s too much weight already. She can tell Nevsky is thinking the same thing. Despite her being Grisha, they became fast friends.
“One last time?” he whispers to her. Not that they’d had times before, but she guesses he likes the dramatic effect.
“Lets do it.” She replies. He says something quiet to Alina before yelling,
“For the 22nd.” He leaps over the side with his soldiers.
“For Sturmhond.” She whispers before following them. Tamar’s scream is lost in the noise.
“Her weapons of choice were two double-bit axes that she wielded in tandem, the blades flashing like light off water, but she was nearly as dangerous with a saber, a pistol, or her bare hands.”
-Siege and Storm Ch.7
NADIA WOULD LIKE TO LOOK AT HER GIRLS
Masterlist
I do not write anything nsfw for underage characters
any smut is marked (*)
Tamar x Reader
sweet solutions *
thats when she knew she lost her
that's when she knew she lost her nsfw*
make every moment count
make every moment count nsfw*
almost too late
princesses get what they want
I better live so I can make fun of her for this
this is inconvenient
would it have been worth taking?
I made a promise
Zoya x Reader
I hate that I care about you
ache for you*
Tamar x Nadia
everything's different
under the stars one last time*
Quizzes
Bastard, Lesbian, Poet
Bastard, Wraith, Poet
Queen, Soldier, Arsonist
What if reader was Nikolai’s sister who’s in a relationship with Tamar and when they’re at sea they can actually be together but on land they can’t because it’s forbidden, maybe a jealousy one where her parents are pushing reader into an arranged marriage.
princesses get what they want
Tamar x Reader
Word Count: ~2.3k
Summary: “I’ll figure it out. Princesses are used to getting what they want.”
“Oh and am I something you want?” Her eyes glimmered with a challenge.
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I had fun writing this.
I was pissed when Nikolai said no to me accompanying them on the whaler. But he had a point - it’s too risky to have both of us together, to chance the Darkling recognizing us. Tailoring only went so far. We can’t shake the mannerisms we share, even the crew suspect we’re related, although they don’t know our true identities. Plus, it would be a shame for Ravka to lose both of their spares in one go.
“I can’t trust you not to snap back at the Grisha.” He didn’t face me, still stood pouring over a map.
My eyes narrowed. “Can’t trust me?”
His head snapped over his shoulder. “You know as well as I do that your attitude can be … volatile.”
I scoffed. “I have self control.”
“Do you not remember the fight you got in with the Grisha children? How did that end last time?”
“With a few bruised egos.” I laughed at the memory. Nikolai didn’t laugh. I’d caused quite the headache, and he’d been the one to explain it to my mother.
Tamar snickered from the corner and I shot her a glare. She’s not helping the situation.
--
I couldn’t help the relief I felt when Tamar returned safe, nor the anger when Nikolai announced she’d be sharing quarters with the Sun Summoner. I dragged him away to have a quiet, but heated exchange.
“You didn’t bother to ask me before kicking me out of my room?” I hissed.
“There’s a better room for you.” He tried to soothe.
“Oh you know that’s not the reason.”
He winced, looking around for someone to come interrupt. I poked a finger into his chest. “You owe me one.” He nodded before waving Privyet over, I took that as my chance to leave and find Tamar.
I intercepted her on her way back up to get her rations. “Did you agree to this before?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“I found out when you did.” She shrugged.
“You’re not upset?”
“Of course I am.” She said, with a tone of surprise, “But I can’t question him in front of everyone.”
I sighed, she has a point. “I’m stealing you for a few hours.” I said, before dragging her back down, she laughed.
--
“Are you excited to be back?” Alina asked as we walked into our lodgings for the night.
I looked at her, it was a genuine question. “I’d rather be anywhere else.” I answer drily. Tolya chuckled behind me.
“Why?” She pushed.
I sighed, not in annoyance, but explaining the situation might make it a bit more real than I want to.
“Come on,” I said, and tugged her up the stairs towards our room. I shut the door and sat on the windowsill, motioning for her to take a seat. She sat on my bed, looking vaguely uncomfortable. The door opened again, Tamar walked in and leaned against it. I didn’t pay much attention to her, it would hurt too much to look at her now, and to explain this. Before she could say anything I started explaining.
“Once we get back, they’re going to start trying to marry me off.” Alina glanced toward Tamar, her expression stony. I couldn’t meet her eyes. “And I love being called a bastard.”
Alina’s eyes widened. I’m sure she’d heard the rumors, but confirmation is another thing entirely.
I chuckled darkly, “Mother couldn’t stay away from the Kaelish.” There was a bite in my voice, an edge. “Isn’t it obvious?” I said, waving my hand over my face. Neither of the women in the room commented, Tamar already knew but Alina seemed in shock. I pushed myself up from my seat, heading to the door. I stopped a few paces away, turning my head over my shoulder.
“I love my brother, but do yourself a favor and don’t marry him. Court is fucked up, you don’t want to be involved any more than you have to be Sun Summoner.”
I brushed past Tamar, “Always the dramatics” she whispered in my ear. I rolled my eyes but walked out. Hopefully she wasn’t on guard duty tonight, and I could steal her for a few hours.
“You like it.” I said, and closed the door behind me. I heard her talking to Alina behind me, but didn’t reply. My shoulders sagged as I walked out the door. I felt it coming back - the burden. I didn’t like it.
--
“You’ve finally returned.” Mother kissed both of my cheeks and I had to fight the urge to cringe back.
“Did you not get any of our summons?” She asked.
“They must’ve been lost.” I replied, my voice a bit distant. The tone I'd always adopted at home. I saw Tamar glance at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t dare look back. If there was a mirror nearby I'd have been able to see the mask that slowly set in place, the hardness that settled in behind my eyes. It’s a shame how quickly old habits settle back in. One glance at Nikolai, and I saw it on him. My eyes narrowed as I watched Vasily sitting next to ‘father’. The hatred that swarmed through my body threatened to burst through, the one who’d made my life living hell growing up. The tension must’ve been palpable because I felt Nikolai’s hand on my shoulder.
“It’s been a long journey.” He said, “We’ll settle in and return for dinner.” He steered me out of the room, hand on my shoulder, and I caught Tamar’s eye on the way out. I winked at her, and to her credit she didn’t break face - but I saw the amused glint in her eyes. At least one of us found it funny. It didn’t escape our parents' attention that we didn’t ask to be dismissed, that we left. It was a subtle threat - that we could leave again if we wanted to.
“Did we really have to come back?” I muttered to Nikolai as we walked out of the throne room.
“The walls have ears.” He replied, and I sealed my mouth shut. “We’ll talk later.” He finished, dropping me off at my room. I forced a smile on my face as servants began fluttering in and out, all but shoving me straight into the bath.
--
I agreed to meet her, just past sundown, on the grounds. She said there’s something she wants to show me. Sneaking past my guards and all of the servants dotting around too a bit of effort - and a little bit of blind faith, jumping out of the window into the soft bushes.
I landed with a grunt, and heard laughter coming from across the lawn. My eyes narrowed and I saw a figure running towards me. Her. She’s supposed to meet me somewhere else completely. I’m struggling out of the bushes when her hand appears in front of me. I considered batting it away but ended up taking it and let her heave me to my feet, dragging me out of the bushes. I cross my arms to glare at her.
“You weren’t supposed to be anywhere near here.”
She laughed, a grin spreading across her face. The grin I love so much. “I couldn’t miss seeing the princess land in the bushes.”
“How’d you know I’d take the window? I could’ve snuck through the halls.”
“Past all the guards Nikolai has stationed?” She laughed again. “You’re good, but you wouldn’t have made it past the first set of doors before someone told him.”
I rolled my eyes. She has a point. Her eyes scan the surrounding area before she pulls me right into a tight hug. I squeeze back, holding on as long as I can. Eventually she untangles herself from me and kisses my forehead.
“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs, holding me back at the shoulders.
“I wish we could see each other more.”
Her hands drop, one taking mine instead. I took this for granted at sea, being with each other publicly, without any fears. “Let’s go for a walk.” She said instead.
We took the long way around the gardens. The silence felt tense for once, normally it was comfortable - easy.
“Mother wants me to start meeting suitors.” I said, my voice low. I saw Tamar’s shoulders tense.
“How do you feel about that?” She replied.
I stopped and turned to face her. “What do you think?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Maybe the hurt showed through my eyes because her eyes softened and she wrapped me up in another hug. “We knew this would happen.”
“I’ll fight it. I’ll find a way.” She hummed, like she didn’t believe me, but I would. I would find a way to get out of this, somehow.
“I’m jealous.”
That came as a surprise. It shouldn’t have.
“Why?” I regretted the question as soon as it left my lips. “Nevermind.” I said quickly, covering my tracks. “What do you want to show me?”
She placed a soft kiss on my lips before taking my hand again and smiling, dragging me towards the stables. We stood around the outside edge, in the shadows, watching the fights. We quietly placed bets on the fighters - I lost a fair bit of money, not that it really mattered to me. It reminded me of the Volkvolny - and she knew it.
“Think any of them would fight me?” I asked.
She laughed, “Not if they know who you are.”
“Let’s get Genya to tailor me.” I said, my practically bouncing on my feet. “Tomorrow.”
“And how are we going to explain who you are?”
“I’ll figure it out. Princesses are used to getting what they want.”
“Oh and am I something you want?” Her eyes glimmered with a challenge. I took a quick look around, nobody was paying attention, and dragged her to a corner.
“Anyone can see.” She hissed “I know this place better than anyone.” I winked at her before dragging her off to a hidden corner on the grounds.
I made Tamar a lot of money the next night, and pissed Tolya off. He figured it out after the first three fights, and dragged me back towards the Grand Palace, Tamar laughing her ass off in tow. Thankfully, she healed me, and nobody was none the wiser that they got their ass kicked by the Princess of Ravka.
--
A party was thrown at the Grand Palace in honor of Nikolai’s birthday, and the Queen took it as an excuse to arrange some suitors to come visit. Tamar was on guard in the corner, the Sun Summoner attending. I faked some smiles, a few gentle touches on arms here and there. Too many dances with grubby hands. I was dancing with the son of a wealthy Kerch merchant when his hand drifted a bit too low. I firmly moved it back onto my waist, but caught Tamar’s face out of the corner of my eye - the look in her eyes made me gulp. She didn’t see me watching her, her eyes were narrowed on the man in front of me, waiting a few seconds too long before roaming the room again. I tried to catch her eye several times, even tried to stand next to her at one point, but it’s like she sensed me coming and moved before I could get close. I couldn’t fight the hurt and anger that slowly built up inside me. I’d go see her later tonight. I had too.
I didn’t get that chance. Nikolai and I barely escaped with our lives - and I had the honor of dragging Baghra out of her cave. I fought in the infantry too, I thought I knew war, but shadow monsters that can’t be killed are something else entirely. The Darkling had changed the playing field completely, we were caught off guard, caught by surprise. I should have felt bad about Vasily being ripped to pieces, and part of me did, but the other was so angry that he put everything at risk for his own vanity, that I didn’t have space in my heart to mourn for him.
I went back with him that night, and I saw no sign of her, no sign of anyone, just bodies littering the ground. No survivors in sight. I vomited that night for hours. Hidden away from everyone. She had to be alive, had to. I felt it, I would know if she was dead. Maybe it’s fake hope, but I clung to it like a lifeline.
--
I didn’t expect anything special when Nikolai returned from the raid, he’d gone many times, and this is the one I decided to sit out, having been injured on the last. Of course the one I miss is the one Tamar showed up at. He conveniently forgot to tell me she’d been spotted at one of the smuggling stations.
“I thought of you every day.” I said between kisses, hidden in one of many back hallways.
“I did too.” She replied.
“If you still want me.” Tamar went to interrupt, but I held up one hand. “Now that Nikolai’s King. There’s nothing stopping us.”
Her head lowered, mouth moving to graze my ear. She didn’t answer my question directly. “Every time one of those men would put a hand on you. Every time you had to flirt back. I thought I'd explode.” She pushed me towards the wall, my back pressed against the stone cold. Tamar moved slowly, her hand tracing the side of my face, I leaned into her touch. “I couldn’t think of you the last few months. The idea that you might be dead. It was too painful.”
I tilted my head to meet her eyes. “I knew you’d be alive.” I saw the confusion on her face. “I would’ve felt it if you died.” I held a hand up to my heart. It might be the cheesiest thing I've ever said, but the small smile on her face was worth it. I couldn’t handle it any longer, I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in, pulled her into the kiss I’d been waiting months for.
Nikolai didn't say they were good decisions.
my roommate: “why do you keep staring at your phone?”
What about a soulmate au with Tamar and reader?
this is inconvenient
Tamar Kir-Bataar x f!Reader
A/N: I had so much fun writing thank you for the idea! I might end up adding more to it :)
Word count: ~2.7k
Warnings: mentions of human trafficking, descriptions of violence
Summary: Tamar meets her soulmate in less-than-desirable circumstances.
-Y/n POV-
We both felt the tug at the same time, one glance into her eyes and she knew what it was.
“For fucks sake.” She said, staring at me. Her knife on my throat. I fought the urge to laugh as the cool metal of her blade pressed into my skin. I’m lucky the tug came quickly enough for her to hesitate.
“This is inconvenient.” I sighed, trying to push back and put space between us. Her grip on the back of my head, her fist in my hair, tightened. I felt an uncomfortable itching sensation on my forearm. There’s the tattoo.
“What’s your name?” She asked
“Does it matter?” I answered. Soulmate or not - the look in her eyes tells me she would still kill me. I carefully move my hands in front of me, yanking up one sleeve to try and show my indenture tattoo, to prove i’m not a slaver, that i’m not here my choice.
She shoved me down, my back hitting the crate. I wince at the impact but i’m unarmed, caught off guard. Her fist comes up, clenching. I try to roll away but felt my heart rate drop rapidly . ‘A fucking heart render.’ is the last thought drifting through my head before I fall unconscious.
-Tamar POV-
“Why’s that one alive?” Sturmhond asks, pointing towards the girl sleeping near the crate, her body bent in what must be an uncomfortable position. I turn my arm, yanking my sleeve up to show the words etched in black.
“This is inconvenient.” Sturmhond read the them before breaking out into laughter. He continues laughing for a solid minute while I scowl at him. Finally, he takes a few deep breaths and calms himself. “Do you need me to kill her for you?” His tone is light, but I can see the certainty in his eyes - if I say yes he would kill her.
Tamar shook her head. “She’s an indenture.” she says, having spotted the tattoo on the other her wrist, she couldn’t tell where exactly to but the marking makes it obvious.
“Grisha?” He asked.
“I don’t know. It’s likely, considering it’s a Kerch ship.” Kerch Slavers love to indenture Grisha they find, especially Squallers and Tidemakers. That’s one circumstance they don’t particularly care about gender.
“If she is, we can offer sanctuary, a place here. Get rid of the tattoo.” Sturmhond’s always been generous to indentures they find - giving them a way out, oftentimes the Grisha working on board are former indentures.
“If she’s not?” I asked sharply.
He turns to look at me, carefully. “Still get rid of the tattoo if she wants. We can drop her off at the next port.” He saw my eyes narrow. “Or offer a space here, your call.” He holds his hands up.
“To think, I almost killed her.” I murmur.
“Not the best first meeting, especially considering you’ll have those words etched on you for the rest of your life.” No amount of tailoring can get rid of a soulmate tattoo. About ⅓ of the population actually ends up finding their soulmates - if official reports are listened to. It doesn’t necessarily mean it will make a good match. The core, the Saint given, parts of the person are said to match, but culture and upbringing can change someone.
-Y/n POV-
The door to my glorified cell opens. I’d tried to get out, but it was locked from the outside, and there was absolutely nothing to pick the lock with - all of my weapons, hair pins, everything had been stripped from my body. My soulmate enters with someone else, a giant man who looks like her. Siblings - or cousins maybe.
I eye both of them cautiously. My hands are bound, far enough apart they suspect I might be Grisha. They’re right about that. They’re wrong in assuming I can’t summon like this, but I bide my time. I could summon, but I doubt it will win me any favors.
I stay in my seat, although I am tempted to throw the chair at them. They close the door behind them, the giant takes up position in the corner, the woman - my soulmate apparently, leans against the door. She doesn’t say anything, just gazes at me for a few minutes. I refuse to break the silence.
“Are you an indenture?” She finally asks.
“You mean glorified slave?” I laugh. “Yes, I am."
“Everyone thinks you’re dead now.” The man answers from the corner. “You’re essentially free.”
“Are the rest of them dead?” I ask.
“Yes.” She answers without hesitation.
“Good.” I say quietly. The only show of surprise is the slight raising of her eyebrows.
“Are you Grisha?” He asks me.
Against my better judgment, I clench my fists, swirling my hands to direct a gust of wind at his face. His arms come up to shield, and he ducks. I felt another hand wrench my head back, and the cool metal of a blade against my throat. One well placed knick and my windpipe would be sliced wide open - or I'd bleed out in seconds. I’m surprised she’s going for the weapon instead of just knocking me unconcsious like earlier.
“If this is how you treat your soulmate, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies.” I laugh.
“Who says you’re not both?” She snaps at me.
“The only enemy I have is the one who put me on the other ship.” I say quietly. A moment later my hair is released and I breathe out a sigh of relief. The knife leaves my throat, and her hands unlock the modified shackles. Apparently that was enough to convince her, but again heart-renders can tell when someone is lying. I shake my wrists out, trying to rub away the red marks.
–Tamar POV-
I stand at the stern, arms propped up on the railing, gazing out at the horizon as Nikolai joins me.
“I know she’s your soulmate.” He says, “but she’s a pain in the ass. And unfortunately one of the most powerful squallers I've met.”
“You like her.” I say, almost accusingly.
“She’s amusing.” He replies. “And taking quickly to the airboats. Have you spoken to her?” He turns to face me.
“Neither of us have tried.” I scratch the back of my neck.
“This is uncharted territory for both of you, but this is your ship.” He comments. It’s not an accusation, and I know that, but it feels like one.
“You have a point.” I admit reluctantly
His voice lowers, “not many people get to find theirs. Especially people living like us.”
We stand in silence for a few more moments before I head off to go start my watch.
“I’ll think about it.” I say over my shoulder. I see his smirk, he knows he’s won. I’m impressed with how quickly she’s integrated herself with the crew and other Grisha. She’s charming, funny, and fiery. Three traits that are serving her well on board. I shake my head, trying to put thoughts of her out of my mind. I grow more distracted by her each day. I didn’t pay much attention to the watch list today - to who would be my partner. I’m surprised to see who meets me up at the tower. I have a feeling it was done on purpose.
-Y/n POV-
Watch with Tamar, and my first one. I haven’t specifically avoided her, just not started any conversations or stuck around long in her presence. Maybe I am avoiding her, maybe that makes me a coward. But it’s not my space, not my arena, it’s her move. I’m stubborn and patient enough to wait.
“Kruge for your thoughts?” I hear a voice. I was lost in thought, waiting for her to join. My head snaps around to see her. She’s beautiful,dark cropped hair, golden tilted eyes, bronze skin. My cheeks pink slightly - I can tell she notices by the slight smirk on her face. I’m tempted to throw something at her, just to smack it off.
“It’s strange being here.” I finally reply.
“How different is it?” She asks. I was indentured to some Kerch slavers previously, before Sturmhond’s crew attacked the ship. I know my life was only spared because of the soulmate bond, and I'm grateful for it.
“I haven’t felt the urge to sink the entire ship.” I laughed. “Or murder anyone.”
“Is that your way of saying you like it here?” Her lips turn up at the corners. ‘Stop staring at them.’ I tell myself, but my gaze hangs a second too long.
“It’s a strong possibility.” I admit, turning my head back out to sea, to keep an eye out for anything. “Tell me about you.” I say. It came out as more of a question than I would’ve liked, but she obliges.
“My mother was a Ravkan Grisha, my father a Shu Mercenary. Before she died she made him promise to take us to Novyi Zem instead of being drafted by the Second Army. The day after she died we set off.”
“How’d you get to sea?”
“Sturmhond found us after our father died, and offered us a chance out here. We were mercenaries before that. Still are technically.” I appreciate how open she is with me.
“We being you and Tolya?”
“Yes.” Her fingers tap on the railing. “What about you?” Her head doesn’t turn, keeping an eye out on the Sea, but I catch her watching me through her peripherals.
I hesitate. There’s a lot, but also almost nothing, to my story. “I fled the Wandering Isle, to Kerch, or tried to. The sailors I thought were rescuing me ended up getting me into that mess. Better than having my blood drained.” I laugh, laughing is the only way I can talk about it without crying - the memories are still fresh.
She didn’t laugh, or smile. “I can remove it.” She said, instead.
“Remove what?”
“The tattoo.”
My eyes widen. It isn’t the same as getting rid of an indenture completely, but if everyone thinks I’m dead - and the tattoo is gone. That might as well be my freedom. I don’t know what to say, what words to put into it. It probably seems so simple to her, but it means the world to me. She waits patiently for my answer, thankfully not pushing me.
“Please.” Is all I can force out, my voice chokes up a little and I swallow hard, one hand tapping the railing, the other wiping away the small tears in my corner.
“Once our watch is up.” She spares me a quick glance. I look back, only to be scolded.
“Eyes out.” She says, and I roll my eyes. We make easy chatter the rest of the time. Talking to her feels natural, feels like I can trust her almost immediately. It makes sense - given the soulmate bond, but maybe we’d still be able to talk like this under different circumstances, I hope so.
At the end of our watch she asks the question I’ve dreaded. “Did you ever try and save any of them?” Her tone is neutral. I feel the familiar ache in my chest, the tightness that comes with the memories of the people enslaved to be sold, their faces cross through my mind - one after the other. I’ll never forget them.
“Once.” I say, and turn around so my back faces her. I lift the back of my top, exposing a small sliver of skin - enough that she can see the scarring. It took weeks to heal after - even with Grisha healing abilities, a wicked lash can do a lot of damage. I hear her breath catch. “It was worth it.” I turn back around, “they got away.”
“I’m surprised they didn’t kill you.”
“I’m more valuable alive.” I say with a smirk. “I’d only been with them two months before you caught them.” I admit. “How long have you been with Sturmhond?” I change the subject.
“A year and a half.”
“Is he good to you?” I ask quietly.
“We chose him for a reason. He treats us well, and gives us freedom, he offers you a spot. Will you take it?”
“I like flying those little boats.” I pause for a few seconds, tilting my head to the side to gave over the rest of the deck below us. “I will.” The determination sets in my voice, in my tone. I’ve already admitted that to myself - that i’d take the spot - regardless. I’ve held desperately onto hope that it would be offered, working my ass off to learn as much as I can. Even if my mouth has gotten me a few warning glances.
Tamar grins, her grins are contagious and come easy, I hope it stays that way. “I’m glad.” My cheeks flush and I turn away from her, eyes gazing back out to the sea.
“How old are you?” I change the subject - again.
“21. You?”
“19.” Thankfully we’re relatively close in age - Grisha can look deceptively young.
After our watch finishes, Tamar leads me back down to her small cabin. She motions for me to take a seat on her hammock, and I sit down carefully, trying not to rock it too much. She crouches in front of me and my breath catches as she holds my wrist, flipping it over so the tattoo is visible. Her touch is light - and I don’t mind the itch, my eyes are transfixed on her as she works but she doesn’t seem uncomfortable under my gaze, in fact her cheeks flush red. I catch a glimpse of the tattoo on her forearm and laugh.
Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “What’s so funny?”
“You’ll be stuck with those words forever.” I shrug.
“So will you.”
“I don’t know which is worse.” I admit.
“All done.” She says, releasing my wrist. I look down, the tattoo is completely gone, no evidence of the past left on it. I run my fingers over it in awe, It’s unblemished, perfectly back to how it was before. I don’t notice Tamar moving until the hammock rocks slightly and her knee presses into mine, my head snaps to the side, she’s sat down next to me, staring at the tattoo on my arm. ‘For fucks sake.’
“I feel like I should apologize for that.” She chuckles.
“Don’t. I’ll enjoy telling the story of how we met.” I bite my lip as I realize my mistake, holding my breath. It sounds like I'm assuming we’ll be together - assuming she’ll accept it. My heart starts beating rapidly, even if she wasn’t a heart render I'm certain she’d be able to hear it. Her hand grabs my wrist, her thumb gently circling my palm. I feel my heart rate come back down to normal. She moves her hand back as quickly as she grabbed it, like she’s unsure if she crossed a line.
“Thank you.” I mumble under my breath, keeping my eyes trained on the floor in front of me.
“I’ll enjoy telling it too.” I turn to face her, the smile on her face is sincere. I’m still biting harshly on my lip when her thumb comes up to my face, tugging it slightly to release it from the hold. Her hand drifts to cup the side of my face, and I lean into her touch, closing my eyes as her thumb traces back and forth over my cheek bone. A knock on the door sounds and my eyes open reluctantly. Tolya’s voice drifts through the door.
“Time for rations.” He grunts, and I hear his footsteps walk away.
“He did that on purpose.” Tamar mutters, but stands up and offers me a hand. I laugh taking her hand, standing and tugging her towards me. I let my hand come up to cup her cheek, and lean up to press a gentle and quick kiss on her lips. I dart around her, slipping out the door before she can react. I hear her curse under her breath and by the time she’s out the door I'm halfway up the ladder. I turn over my shoulder to wink, and she rolls her eyes. “Later.” She mouths, and I bite my lip again, climbing up as quickly as I can before I give into the urge to shove her back in her room. Rations are essential after all.
“Tamar says fears are like weeds. They grow wild if left unattended.” Well and good for Tamar - Tolya’s twin was essentially fearless.”
- Tolya and Nikolai, King of Scars Ch. 4
can I ask for a Tamar x reader where she is the healer in Sturmhond's crew, she and Tamar pretend to be "just friends" but for once the reader gets injured during a fight and Tamar is terrified of losing her and her first thing he does when the reader wakes up is kiss her
I better live so I can make fun of her for this
Tamar x f!Grisha Reader
Wordcount: ~1.5k
Warnings: descriptions of injury, discussions of death
A/N: Thank you for the request! I loved writing this
Summary: Y/n's always been certain she's someone who lives with no regrets, but she finds herself begging the Saints for a second chance, begging whoever’s up there to give her another shot.
I’m fine with the situation - or I think I am. It’s easier this way, less complicated, and we can avoid unnecessary comments and conflicts. At the same time, it’s difficult to ‘act normal’ about everything when half of the time all I want to do is hold her hand, or give her a hug that lasts a few seconds too long. I’m not sure if she feels the same, I hope she does. I know it’s not a ‘friends with benefits’ situation, more of a ‘secret relationship.’ It feels cheesy, like something out of a romance novel.
I’m working with one of the deckhands, checking in on an old injury. He’s distracted by something and I sneak a glance over to Tamar, she’s sparring with someone. I hold back a chuckle as he’s flipped right on his ass. Nobody lasts long against her. I turn back to the sailor. “You’re all set.”
He thanks me and hops up off the crate, heading over to discuss something with one of his friends. I take over his seat and tilt my head back, closing my eyes so the sun can soak into my skin. ‘Maybe it’ll bring out my freckles some more.’ I think to myself.
The wood next to me creaks, and I peek one eye open to check. Tamar’s sitting next to me.
“You made easy work of him.” I tell her, mentioning the sailor she sparred with earlier.
“Always happy to knock someone's egos down a few pegs.” She grins
I chuckle and turn to her. “Just have mercy on me.”
She rolls her eyes. “You can hold your own.”
“Not against you.” I mumble. That’s a sore point for me - after a year on board I haven’t been able to win against her. We tied once and I hold onto that like a grand victory.
“You’ll get there one day” she nudges me with her shoulder.
“I hope you’re ready for it.”
She hums, turning her head up to meet the sun, I copy her and we sit in peaceful silence..
–
The pain shocks me, jolts me. I scream as I fall, a bullet hitting my chest - slightly to the left of my heart. I feel myself weakening, feel the blood dripping from me. I wiggle so my back is leaning against a crate, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself.
“The bleeding.” I mutter to myself, “stop the bleeding. Keep the heart going.” I’m doing my best to use my powers on myself but it’s not quick enough. The fight is over, I hear the howls and cheers going up, the gunfire and clash of swords are gone.
“TAMAR” I scream, seeing her just ahead of me, her back turned. Quick as lightning she’s sprinting to my side. She falls to her knees in front of me. I watch her eyes assess the situation.
“Bullet.” I tell her, and point to the exact spot it hit. I take more deep breaths, trying to keep my calm, to keep myself centered - it’s not working but I feel her powers working, I’m grateful for the lessons I gave her - she picked up on healing quickly. I let a small smile drift across my face, I’m proud of her.
“TOLYA.” I hear her scream - it sounds distant. I keep blinking my eyes, and keep fighting to stay awake.
“Stay awake, love.” She whispers, her hands over my heart, working to try and heal it. I hear Tolya dropping to the other side, starting to work in tandem with his sister. It’s strange being healed - instead of doing the healing.
“Hey.” I whisper, her eyes dart up towards me. “I love you.” I say, black spots start appearing around my eyes, I close them - squinting as hard as I can, I feel the tears start to leak from the corners of my eyes. If I’m dying - I'll do it with one less regret on my chest. I’m ready to accept it, to let myself be welcomed home, but before I can I hear her scream. I know I'm not awake but it pushes something forward in me, like a small tug to keep going - to try and fight. My soul is hovering - waiting, hoping for a body to go home to.
–
There’s days where I think I know how important something is to me, how much it means, how much I'm willing to risk, and then something happens to change my entire perspective on it.
I’ve never felt more helpless in my life. I’m out of my body - watching her cry over me. I can’t feel it, but I can see how pale and clammy my skin is. Whatever version of me I'm in right now, I still feel the ache -. I can’t feel the pain I know my physical body is in, but I can feel the heartbreak, see the devastation my injury is bringing. I know it's not my fault at all, but I’m a healer - I hate not being able to fix it, not being able to mend my broken self. Having to put my faith in others. I have faith in Tamar. I’ve always been certain I'm someone who lives with no regrets, but I'm finding myself begging the Saints for a second chance, begging whoever’s up there to give me another shot.
The week passes by in glimpses, small dashes out of my body, watching Tolya and Tamar work constantly to keep my heart beating, to keep my blood flowing. I can see their concern and fear, but I also see their determination. If there’s any chance at me surviving - I know these two will make it happen. This version of me feels empty - I don’t have my powers. I can’t sense my own heart rate, I can’t detect blood pressure, or respiration rates, I never realized how big of a part of me my powers are.
–
She’s singing, I realize. Sitting next to my bed and singing. Some kind of shu ballad I know she barely remembers. My out of body self starts laughing. ‘I better live so I can make fun of her for this.’ She really should leave the poetry to Tolya. But I don’t mind her singing to me, maybe I’ll convince her to do it more often. She has a nice voice - for a mercenary.
She pauses for a moment, squeezing my hand. “I can’t lose you y/n.” I see tears swell in her eyes and have to look away. I’ve never seen her cry, Tamar’s never cried in front of me.
–
My eyes blink open, I'm back in my body. Everything feels too bright, too overwhelming, I shut my eyes again, planting my hands firmly down on my sides, trying to push myself up into a sitting position. I groan, the motion making my ribs ache. Someone is at my side in an instant, their arm gently laying me back down. I turn my head, blinking my eyes open again, slowly adjusting to the bright lights. Bronze skin, golden tilted eyes, short dark cropped hair, a beautiful grin on her face - it’s Tamar, the first one I see. Millions of people could be in the room, but at this time, I wouldn’t see anyone else. I reach one of my arms for her, ignoring the pain in my side. She gets the message and leans down. Her hands cup my cheeks gently and she places a soft kiss on my lips. I tug at the back of her neck, trying to bring her in closer, deeper, meld her body in with mine. She just chuckles and pulls back to lean her forehead against mine.
“You’re still hurt.” Her voice is low, but I can hear the love in it. The gentleness she saves just for me.
“I’m the healer.” I grumble. “I’m fine.”
“Excuse me, I’m the healer now. You’re my patient.” My eyes are closed but I can still feel her smile.
She shifts away from me, and I start to protest but she pulls a chair up next to my cot, holding onto one of my hands.
“I could see it all.” I tell her. “From above.”
Her eyes widen but she hesitates, like she doesn’t know what to say or how to respond.
“I don’t want to hide anymore.” I tell her, willing my voice to stay strong. “I want everything with you, I don’t want any regrets.”
She holds my hand up to her lips, gently turning my wrist to kiss my palm. “You’ll have everything. No more hiding, never again.”
I break out into a grin that she matches, leaning back down to place another soft kiss on my lips.
I hear a whistle in the background. Tamar leans up, Sturmhond is leaning against he doorframe. “I can’t say that was completely unexpected. How romantic.”
“Get out.” Tamar snarls. He moves without hesitation, quietly shutting the door behind him. She turns to me, “where were we?”
I laugh hard enough that I wince, my ribs aching from the movement.
would it have been worth taking?
A/N: I'm alive! slowly getting back into posting after a rough few months, but I some things backed up including longer fics and crossovers! let me know if anyone would like a part two :)
Tamar Kir Bataar x f!Reader
Summary: Later on, you learned exactly why Tamar was distant, why she drew that boundary that night, and not for the first time - you wanted to kill the bastard prince of Ravka. Your older brother assigned her to bodyguard duty, from the moment you boarded his ship.
Warnings: angst, pining, bodyguard trope
Word Count: ~2.3k
Tamar’s your best friend. Hands down. You’d spent so much time together over the years. She knows exactly what your face looks like when you have a losing hand, and you can tell when she’s bluffing from leagues away. Absinthe? You only drink it because of her. Cards? You only started playing because of her.
More and more you realized so much of your life had revolved around her, and it made sense. Tamar’s your best friend, but sometimes those boundaries get blurred and the lines crossed. One night, drunk off your ass, you kissed.
She didn’t hesitate. Tamar’s eyes caught hers, and darkened the slightest bit. Y/N leaned in, and Tamar leaned as well. It felt like the world was coming to a stop - everything around them pausing. The clouds didn’t shift, the ship didn’t rock, the fish didn’t swim. Their lips brushed, for a split second, before time started again and Tamar pulled away like someone shocked her.
She shook her head, and refused to meet Y/N’s eyes, standing up and walking away - without a second glance back. She sat there, her fingers touching her lips, ghosting over where Tamar’s had just been. It took a few seconds to set in.
Saints, that hurt more than anything else. A complete rejection - not even a backwards glance to spare. You let it go, and never brought it up. Neither did she. But - on late nights, when the book you were reading wasn’t that interesting, your thoughts would catch up with you and you’d relive every moment in detail, wondering where you went wrong - or how you could have misread the signs. No matter what angle you looked at it - you knew for a fact that she leaned in as well, and you held onto that.
Later on, you learned exactly why Tamar was distant, why she walked away that night, and not for the first time - you wanted to kill the bastard prince of Ravka. Your brother assigned her to bodyguard duty, from the moment you boarded his ship.
“Why do you always follow me around?” She asked Tamar, genuine curiosity on her face. It could’ve come out rude or sharpish, but she kept her tone gentle.
Tamar laughed. “Because it’s my job.”
“What do you mean,” her eyes narrowed, “your job?”
Tamar paused, placing down the dagger she’d been spinning on her finger tip. “I’m your guard.” She said slowly, as if she was speaking to a child.
Y/N blinked twice. “Right.” She muttered, before standing up. “I’m going to bed.” She walked to the door, focusing on keeping her pace steady. Her hand rested on the doorknob, and she turned her head to look at the woman. The woman who’d held her heart for so many years, without even knowing it. “You’re off duty.” She smirked, and shut the door behind her. Y/N didn’t stop until she got to her rooms, and only then let the tears fall.
-
“What are you going to do about her crush on you?” You heard Zoya say from around the corner, sounding completely exasperated.
Tamar shushed her. You counted to ten and turned the corner, keeping a bright smile on your face. A princess's smile. Tamar would know the difference, but Zoya would have no clue. “Zoya. I need your help.” You announced, and she surprised flash across her features, before her usual cool mask of disdain took over.
“With what?” She said sharply.
“I’m picking out an outfit. For a date.” You smiled, and purposefully didn’t look at Tamar. Zoya’s mood changes immediately, and she flashed a shark like grin at Tamar before breezing towards you, linking your arms and dragging you down the hall.
You might not be Grisha, but you could’ve sworn the heart renders blood pressure rose.
Once you were a safe distance away, and had ensured no others were nearby, Zoya asked, “Do you really have a date?”
A mischievous grin crossed your face. “I do.”
Zoya looked absolutely delighted. “Thank the Saints you’re getting over her. Who is it?”
"Busy body." You muttered under your breath, but told her anyways.
–
Over the next few months, you went on several dates. Most of the unsuccessful, considering they all knew exactly who they were taking on a date and blubbered trying to impress you. Several only wanted to be close to the crown. So - you resorted to ‘drastic’ measures, and snuck out of the palace, alone.
–
You were drunk off your ass in some pub, leading a ridiculously bawdy shanty you’d learned during your time at sea. Everybody loved it, and it drew a crowd in. Unfortunately, it also drew in people who knew exactly what to look for.
So, Tamar tugged you off of a bar, dragging out the front door, although you protested and cursed her the entire way. As soon as you’d cleared the door, Tolya threw you over his shoulder and they began running - damned running - back to the palace. You fought back the urge to throw up down his backside.
--
“Do you at least feel bad for the panic you caused?” Nikolai asked the next morning, as you nursed a massive hangover.
Tamar stood in the corner, leaned back against the wall, one knee propped up, and arms crossed. She looked furious. You watched her for a few moments, before turning back to Nikolai.
“No.” You tilted your chin up, mastering every part of the petulant and spoiled princess. And maybe you were being unnecessarily reckless, but right now - you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. You’d fought in a war - you deserved a bit of leniency and a chance to be free.
“I expected nothing less.” Nikolai pressed his fingertips against his temples. Sure, he put on the role of disappointed brother well, but you could tell there was a small bit of pride in him. Pride you’d do something stupid. “You might as well live a little while you can.”
While you can … That statement crashed over you.
“What do you mean, while I can?” You said through gritted teeth, and his face turned unnecessarily serious.
“You have to think about your future.”
You stood up, pushing the chair back behind you. “What. Do. You. Mean?” In reality, you knew exactly what he meant, but you’d make him say it - say it outloud and speak the bullshit into the air.
“About marriage and alliances. Your duty to your country.”
“Oh, so I’m becoming a political pawn now?”
“You were raised for this.” Nikolai gave you a look, as if you’re the one being unreasonable.
“Haven’t I sacrificed enough?” You spit out, your teeth clenched.
Nikolai’s eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, before narrowing. “We do what’s necessary. You know this day is coming.”
Anger rose inside you, filling your chest, creeping up your throat, and flushing your cheeks. Your hand reached for something, anything - a book, a cushion, a rock, something to lob at your brother for saying something absolutely idiotic. Tamar cleared her throat before you could, and your hand shifted back to hover at your side, clenching in a fist.
“The Princess needs some air.” She announced, before crossing the room and placing a gentle hand between your shoulder blades, ushering you to the door and out of the room before you could do something truly stupid, like assault the King of Ravka. Brother or not, Saints can get away with it, you might not be able to.
“Nobody wants to marry a bastard princess.” You turned your head to hell over your shoulder. Tamar let out a long suffering sigh, and pushed more insistently at your back.
“You’d be surprised how much people love a bit of scandal.” Nikolai yelled right back, matching your tone. Tamar let out a groan, shutting the door behind both of you.
You walked through the halls in silence. Tamar hadn’t removed her hand, and you didn’t have it in you to shake it off. The touch was nice. Comforting even. “Are you going to tell me I’m ridiculous?” You demanded, watching her from the corner of her eyes. Her shoulders pushed back, maybe an inch. Being around her so long, you know every single tell. What each movement means. She’s about to say the ‘right,’ thing.
“Nikolai has everyone's best interests in mind.”
“Nikolai has Ravka’s best interests in mind.” That's your brother, always looking at the bigger picture. He doesn’t seem to understand that not everyone wants that life. Not everyone is made for it. He played a role for Ravka, as Sturmhond. “Why can’t I disappear for a few years?” You said absentmindedly, not expecting an answer.
“Ravka’s been through upheaval. It needs all hands on deck.” It, not hers. You’ve noticed her and Tolya don’t claim Ravka. If you were them, you wouldn’t either. You know for a fact they’ve only continued to stay here because of Alina, because of her blessing. Thank the saints for that. Without Tamar’s timely interventions, you may have assaulted several courtiers by now. Your loyalty is to your brother. Not the crown. The rest of the walk to the garden was spent in contemplative silence.
-
Tamar noticed you were a bit out of sorts. Normally you’d say anything on your mind, almost a stream of consciousness. She loved that about you. The word, even in her mind, almost made her wince. The princess needed some air, but so did she. Listening to Nikolai discuss your future, like you’re a prize mare to be sold off. As your official and unofficial bodyguard for the last few years, and more importantly your friend, she didn’t want this for you. You didn’t want this. Ravka’s best interests. Not yours. But she couldn’t do a damned thing about it. If you tried to run … would Nikolai make you track her down?
“Vlachka for your thoughts?”
“I’m in the mood for snap-dragon.” Why was that the first thing that came to my mind?
“Saints saints saints”, y/n cursed, sucking her fingers in her mouth. She’d never played snatch drakon before. They didn’t have the necessary ingredients on board often, but Tamar had bought them at the last port just for this purpose. For the holiday spirit, of course. Feast of Saint Nikolai, and it happened to be the bastards favorite game, and her and Tolya’s yearly gift to him.
It’s the dead of night, with just the stars and moon to brighten the deck. Spiced brandy fills a bowl, raisins and a bit of salt are tossed in. A match strikes, and the blue flames swirl up, giving everyone a ghost or demon-like face. Curses and laughs as fingers grab for the dried fruit. An easy grin fills Tamar’s face as she meets Y/N’s eyes, the mirth and joy in there warms her heart. Saints, she’d buy these every port visit to put a smile on her face … Tamar blinks heavily, reaching for another raisin. What was that?
Nostalgia, maybe, but winter is still months away.
“Feeling the holiday spirit already?” You asked half-heartedly.
Tamar didn’t answer, pushing the door open for you instead, her eyes scanning the room - taking in stock any exits or possible threats, even though she’d visited this area at least a dozen times. She noticed you doing the same, and doubted the habit will ever die. Useful, certainly, but it speaks to your shared past. That type of paranoia that comes with those experiences.
-
Being alone with Tamar. Well, it used to be normal to you, but since coming back to Os Alta you’ve always been surrounded by people, by others. It made it easier to ignore any lingering feelings for her. In fact, they were nearly gone. Months ago, Tamar opening a door for you would have given you a few butterflies, put a smile on your face - no matter how often it happened. You suppose it’s part of growing up, moving on from your first crush. But, part of you clings to it, clings to those last dregs of feeling. Maybe because she’s your main link to your past. A past only your brother truly understands, but Tamar knew you during those times. You wonder if she’s noticed any changes, and what they might be.
“How are you adjusting to palace life?” You asked instead, hoping to prompt some kind of conversation. You could always go to Tolya for advice, probably would end up doing so, but it’s a bit easier on your brain if there’s not poetry references shoved your way.
“About as well as you, I suppose.” The same easy grin, but it didn’t reach her eyes, her eyes stayed … sorrowful maybe?
“So shit.”
She snorted. “Maybe a bit better than you.” A slightly too long to be natural pause. “Was that your first time sneaking out?”
“You know the answer to that.” You deadpanned. No, just your first time being caught. A mistake you’ll do your best to remedy.
“Just take me next time.”
“That won’t draw any attention at all.” You drawled. Going out with Tamar is like putting a big sign on your back. “We might as well bring Nikolai.”
“Embarrassed of me, now?” Her tone was teasing, but her shoulders tightened. You might’ve hit a nerve.
“I heard Tamar’s already embarrassed you quite a bit.” Zoya’s voice cut through the air, and the tension.
“Does everyone know?” You groaned, turning to face your other friend. One who’d encouraged you to do something reckless. Your jaw dropped at the smug look. “You ratted me out, you little snake. You’re lucky I can’t light you on fire.”
“Then let's go out tonight, I’ll buy your first drink.”
If Zoya's offering to go out, especially to your kind of place, you know she's in need of some kind of distraction. The curve of your lips overrode the faked indignation. “I suppose that’s reasonable.”
“Fantastic.” Zoya breezed towards you, looping her arm through yours, and dragging you through the doors. ‘Sorry,’ you mouthed to Tamar as you were dragged along.
‘No need,’ She mouthed back, turning to exit through the other door, her steps quick.
-
As Tamar turns on her heel, walking away as fast as she casually can, she can’t help but think that maybe she shouldn’t have walked away that night. Maybe she did miss her chance. Would it have been worth taking?
omg i just discovered your blog and i’m in love 🥹 i instantly fell in love with tamar and i wish there were more fics about her out there (and tolya too, perks of being bi)
if you’re still taking requests, could you please write about reader possibly being a lantsov and grisha at the same time? maybe she’s super close with nikolai and tamar is like her sworn protector? idk, something with some angst (like reader getting hurt during an attack or something) but all ends well? i mean she’s the princess of ravka, she better survive 😅
thank you so much, and please, keep writing, i love your fics! 💙
I made a promise
Tamar x f!GrishaLantsovReader
A/N: Sorry this took me so long, I loved writing this thank you! I made this so it should hopefully fit with both the books and the tv show, and I'm still taking requests please send them :)
Warnings: Injury
Word Count: ~2k
Summary: “She’s a handful.” He warned her.
“How bad could-”
“Don’t say it.” He interrupted her, and she laughed. “You mean it, if she comes with us, you’ll swear to protect her?”
“Yes.” Tamar looked a bit exasperated. “I will,”
-
Y/n was the first Lantsov Grisha in a long time – but she was convinced by her mother to keep her powers a secret – and her heritage. Two bastards? Her mother had been busy. She was two years younger than her brother, and over time they’d bonded over many things, including their suspicious heritage.
Unfortunately she didn’t gain his silver tongue. Her brashness and attitude got her into trouble at the Little Palace. As soon as she completed her military service, which she’d run away to do, just like her dear brother – they sent her to study in Ketterdam, at her insistence. The well compensated shipping clerk did put up a good effort, but she managed to get the truth out of him. Her brother got an earful when she tracked him down, mostly about how pissed she was he didn’t tell her, or let her go with him, and on and on. The guards that accompanied him were highly amused. Shu twins – she liked them immediately. Especially the girl, Tamar.
“At least tell me where you’re headed next?”
He sighed, “Novyi Zem.”
“Take me with you when you come back?”
“I’ll think about it.” That was a no.
She set her best glare on him, “I guess I can’t follow in your footsteps forever. I heard they’re hiring in the barrel…”
“No.” His voice was sharp.
“Who are you to tell me what to do? You’re a pirate.”
“Privateer.” He corrected me. “And that’s different from joining a gang.”
“Renting out heart-rending services is different than actually joining a gang.” She rolled her eyes.
“And how do you know they won’t hold you hostage?”
“I’m good at hiding,” she blew it off. “Everyone thinks I’m in the southern colonies to recover from my ‘illness’.” He nodded, she had a point. “And I wasn’t exactly paraded around like you or Vasily. I’m the obvious bastard. Mother never cared”
“Careful” he warned, she was treading dangerous ground. He still loved their mother despite everything, and she knew that. But she couldn't care less for them. They’d discarded her at the first possible opportunity, why should she waste energy on them?
She took a deep breath. “I’m already doing it. There’s no point in trying to stop me now.”
“Can’t blame me for wanting to protect you.”
“I was infantry too” was her response. “I can take care of myself.”
“And if you can’t?”
“We’ll see just how much father thinks I’m worth.”
-
“She’s very insistent.” Tamar commented later that night. “You might as well let her come.”
“She’ll be in danger with us.” Nikolai hedged.
“But there is more danger in Ketterdam.” Tamar countered. “Especially for Grisha.”
“Will you swear to protect her?” Nikolai said, half-jokingly, rolling his shoulders back and leaning against the railing. They’d set sail in two mornings.
“I swear it.” Nikolai blinked once. The only sign of his surprise.
“She’s a handful.” He warned her.
“How bad could-”
“Don’t say it.” He interrupted her, and she laughed. “You mean it, if she comes with us, you’ll swear to protect her?”
“Yes.” Tamar looked a bit exasperated. “I will, and I’ll teach her.”
“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” His head shook. Y/n’s already quite good with a blade and pistol, but under Tamar’s tutelage, she’ll absolutely shine. If she doesn’t kill her first.
“I like a little challenge now and then.”
-
Nikolai ended up eating his words. Tamar and Y/n got along incredibly well, and ended up being absolutely lethal together. He made her repeat her story a hundred times before she came within eye-sight of the ship. A stray heart-render Nikolai found. Her Kerch is fluent, so they passed her off as being from Ketterdam. Also speaks Ravkan and Fjerdan. Y/n seemed to understand the seriousness of it.
“Stray. Like I’m a scruffy dog.”
“At least you get to keep your name. It’s common enough.” He’d reasoned. Not her real name, one she’d already made up for herself. He was, but shouldn’t have been, surprised to find his sister had a few fake persona’s ready.
“A serious question,” he asked her. “How did you track me down?”
She looked at him like he was the stupidest human alive, and he was transported back to their childhood.
“Pirates need to swim, Nikolai!” Y/n had jumped in the lake, her boots discarded on the bank. “See.” She waved her arms above her head, treading the water.
“I’m going to be a privateer.” He scowled, pushing out the small ‘boat’ they’d built together. Random bits of wood they found around the castle. What looked like the top of Y/n’s wooden nightstand, sawed off, and strung together with some ripped up curtains.
“Same thing.” She huffed. “Get in.” He slowly waded in, glaring at her the entire time. Saints, the water is freezing. Why did he let her convince him to come swim anyways? Spring is barely here.
“Why do I always have to push the boat?”
“Things were easy back then, weren’t they?” She murmured, as if she’d seen the memory too. Easy. They didn’t know what the word ‘bastard’ meant, or why Y/n’s ‘powers’ were a secret, even from Vasily. Vasily - who didn’t give a shit about them. Never asked after Y/n once in his letters. Thinking about him would put Nikolai in an unnecessary piss poor mood, so he thought about the future instead. What it might look like out on the seas, but with his sister by his side this time.
-
“Tamar, would you defend me if Nikolai tried to turn me into a broodmare?”
Zoya spit her tea out across the table, right onto Y/n’s shirt, who jumped, grabbing a cloth napkin to try and soak it up, glaring at the squaller, who only looked at her incredulously.
“Did she just say that?” Zoya turned to Genya, who looked at the possible broodmare, sucking in her lips to keep from laughing.
“It’s a genuine concern.” Y/n protested.
“Saints, Y/n.” Nikolai spoke from the door. “You’ve asked her that every day for the last week, always when I’m in earshot. Is there something you’d like to ask me yourself? You’d make a pisspoor broodmare. For the record.”
“No,” Y/n leaned her head back, tilting slightly to meet Tamar’s eyes with an easy grin on her face. “I’d rather ask Tamar.”
Nikolai let out a long-suffering sigh. One he saved especially for her. Zoya had watched the whole interaction closely. Nikolai looked both annoyed and amused. Tamar went along with it, almost like it was a joke between them. Between them. No matter how much she’d poked and prodded, neither would say anything about a possible romantic relationship.
“I’m sworn to protect her.” Tamar had emphasized. As far as she knew, sworn protectors didn’t need to stand that close. Or glare daggers at any men or women who looked at her a bit too appreciatively. Nikolai didn’t seem to care about it.
-
Everything happened incredibly fast. One minute, she was on her horse, laughing at a joke Tamar told, the next she’s in her bed with a pounding headache, and pain radiating through every inch of her. Hushed voices spoke in the background, quieting as soon as she groaned. Her mouth was dry, and even opening her eyes felt like too great of a task.
“Can you hear me?” A strained voice sounded, “Y/n?” She can, she can hear them, but she can’t do anything - can’t move, can’t blink, can’t speak. With great effort, she shifts her hand slightly. By a sharp inhale, she can tell the motion is noticed. Saints, why can’t she just open her eyes? Her consciousness flickers out slowly, and she drifts back to sleep, the hushed, strained voice still haunting her.
-
Tamar could barely sleep, could hardly think beyond how she failed. She failed y/n, failed her promise to Nikolai, and now she’s lying in her bed - deathly injured, and barely awake. Healers have been there around the clock, doing everything they can to keep the princess alive.
“If you hadn’t gotten her back when you did …” One of them said to her, shaking her head as she walked off. Tamar could’ve throttled the woman. Was that supposed to make her feel better? If anything it made her feel worse. Knowing just how Y/n was, just how close she still is.
“Any improvement?” Nikolai asked, hands in his pockets, strolling down the hall. To anyone else, he might’ve looked nonchalant, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the tight lines in his face.
“Based on how you’re still pacing like a trapped tiger, I’d say no.” The attempted joke fell flat, both of them staring at the other.
“I don’t blame you.” Nikolai said quietly.
“That doesn’t matter.” Tamar stared back at the door, at the room she’d been kicked out of an hour ago. I blame myself, went unsaid. He didn’t bother trying to convince her otherwise, knowing it’s futile.
-
“It’s been a week.” An unfamiliar voice spoke in a hushed tone.
“I know.” Another said grimly.
“I didn’t know.” Y/n grumbled, her voice hoarse. A shocked gasp sounded, and if she could she would have rolled her eyes. Saints, people are dramatic. At the moment, opening her eyes felt like the hardest thing she’s ever done, later she might admit she’s a tad dramatic. White ceilings, she squinted against the bright light in the room, hearing the sounds of curtains shutting. “That’s better.” She sighed.
A warm, calloused hand gripped her gently, “Y/n.” Her voice sounded like a whisper, or maybe a prayer. She turned her head slightly, Tamar. At that moment, she decided that’s her favorite view to wake up to. One she’d like to see for the rest of her days.
“Hi.” A half laugh half sob emerged from the woman’s throat, a grin fighting its way onto her face. “Don’t look so sad.” She pouted.
“We need to see her.” An irritating voice grated against her ears.
“You can see me fine from here.” She snapped. Her throat already feels rough and sore. From a few measly words.
“Glad to see near death hasn’t dimmed your spirits.” Nikolai.
“So that’s what happened,” she mused. The mattress shifted, and Tamar sat next to her, hand still gripping hers.
“I have to insist you clear the area.” The same irritating voice sounded, tittering across the room.
“I have to insist you shut up.” She’s a princess, she can get away with this, right? “And leave.”
Blood pressure skyrocketed from her left. Good, she’s glad she pissed the woman off.
“Very well, your highness.” Footsteps padded out of the room, good riddance.
“She was trying to help.” Tamar chastised, but she could tell she’s pleased.
“You heal me.”
She hesitated, but Nikolai snorted. “You heard the princess.” Y/n could sense there was something else Tamar wanted to say.
“Nikolai leave.”
“Glad to see you too.” He muttered, but sauntered out of the room.
“I- I’m sorry.” Tamar said quietly. She looked heartbroken.
“You have nothing to-”
“No.” She said insistently, “I swore to protect you.”
“You what?!”
“I made a promise to protect you, and I failed.”
“Tamar,” y/n said quietly, “how did I get back to the castle?”
“I brought you.”
“What happened to the attackers?”
“They’re dead.” Her voice hardened.
“You did protect me. I’d be dead if I was out there alone.” Her hand gripped hers tighter. Y/n managed to raise her arm, with some effort, and kiss the back of her hand. A smile crossed the other woman’s face. “You didn’t fail.” She emphasized, and could tell Tamar didn’t really believe her, but something in her seemed to relax, a bit of tension left her shoulders. Tamar’s thumb ran over the back over her hand, and her heart started pounding and she bit nervously on her bottom lip and decided to bite the bullet, pushing up on her elbows.
One hand gripped the back of Tamar’s head, pulling her down. A calloused hand gripped her cheek, meeting her halfway.
alina: I’m not going to kill the seawhip
tamar: …
that's when she knew she lost her
Tamar Kir-Bataar x f!Reader
Word count: ~4.4k
A/N: This is based on the books! I've posted this one previously but here's the full nsfw version, minors dni! sfw version here
Summary: She saw the look in Tamar's eyes when the Sun Summoner took her second amplifier, and that's when she knew she lost her. Not that she was hers to keep in the first place.
Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, praise kink, oral sex, fisting, rough sex, power dynamics, character death
Kostya’s wind carries her, and she lands on deck with a thud grunting before rolling out of the line of fire, breathing out a sigh of relief. She made it off the whaler, back on the volkvolny. Her relief is short-lived as Tamar yells, “He’s up.”
The Darkling’s shadow monsters rise up from the deck of the old whaler. She curses but takes position, listening for Sturmhond’s whistles and orders. The next minutes go by in a blur, she doesn’t have time to think, no time to mourn, just barely enough time to breathe and take the next action. Her hands move rapidly to manipulate the water surrounding them.
She collapses in exhaustion once they’re out of range, she notices there’s only two tidemakers left, including her. The others must’ve been up on the rigging.
Her breaths come heavy, but her skin is glowing with the tell-tale flush that comes with using her powers. Her back is up against the rails, the cool metal digging into her spine, when Tamar leans up next to her. Her hand clasps her shoulder.
“I’m glad that's done.” She says.
Y/n turns to look at her, “Thanks the saints. I never want to see him again. Maybe his dead body.”
“Maybe we’ll get that lucky.”
“It’ll take more than luck.” She mumbles. Tamar’s arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. The action feels strange after so many weeks without any contact, but her arms wrap around her lower back, pressing herself into her. Tamar always runs hot, and her heat is welcoming this time.
“We’ll celebrate later.” She says, her voice low enough so only y/n can hear. Her cheeks flush pink and her heart beats rapidly, the promise is enough to make her nerves tingle. She remembers the last time they ‘celebrated’ together.
Flashback
They’d finally dropped the last of the slavers they’d captured off in Kerch and set sail again. Tamar practically dragged her back to their room and she was laughing the entire way. The laughter stopped when the door shut behind her, her body slammed into it. Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip out of nerves. Tamar’s thumb brushed lightly across her lip, tugging it free from the bite. Y/n’s eyes gaze to the floor, nerves starting to get the best of her. Tamar’s thumb presses under her chin, tilting her head up so their eyes will meet.
“Are you nervous?” she asks
“No.” She replies a little too quickly, and grimaces, remembering Tamar can always tell when she’s lying. “Maybe a little.”
“Why?”
Y/n sighs, her palms coming up to rub at her eyes. “I don’t know.” Tamar tugs her hands away, and pulls her away from the door, yanking her flush against her chest, moving them towards the middle of the small room. Her breath catches and she freezes. Slowly she moves her arms so they’re wrapped gently around Tamar’s shoulders. She studies every inch of her face, but still avoids eye contact.
“Look at me.” Tamar’s tone tells her it isn’t a question. She tears her eyes up from her lips to meet hers. “You’re fine. We don’t have to do anything tonight. Or ever.”
Her eyes narrow at the last two words, and her hands come up to cup her cheeks, pressing their lips together with urgency. Tamar’s hands dig into her lower back, drawing their hips together. Y/n has a feeling this is the reaction she wants, and she gives right into it.
End Flashback
“I’ll be looking forward to it.” The grin on her face is infectious but thankfully hidden, her face pressed into Tamar’s chest. Once her heart has calmed a little she pushes back. “We should get back to work.”
“Probably.” Tamar sounds reluctant but presses a kiss to her forehead, and heads back to talk to Sturmhond.
Y/n presses two fingers to her forehead, the spot where Tamar just kissed. She hears a snicker from behind her and whips around. Kostya, one of her closest friends on the ship, is laughing at her. She sends a spurt of water to his face, and that knocks the laughter off of him. He retaliates with a small gust of wind.
“Oi.” Privyet’s voice comes through, “Quit that.”
They start laughing, both looking slightly chastised. They stand to the side as the sea whip is hauled on deck. Her hand drifts nervously to her left wrist, the space where her amplifier hides. Taking a second amplifier sounds like absolute insanity to her, but thankfully that’s something she doesn’t have to worry about. She doesn’t move when the scales are offered, just exchanging a small glance with Kostya. Scales still freak her out somewhat and she shudders. For once, he doesn’t make fun of her and she’s grateful for it.
–
She knows her jealousy is stupid, but it’s reasonable to be upset that she’s kicked out of her room with barely any notice. Not to mention, nobody bothered to ask her, just “Tamar’s sharing with the Sun Summoner.” And now she’s in one of the old closets normally saved for less welcome guests. Her one bag is moved over quickly enough. At least she has her own space now, and doesn't have to listen to Tamar snore or sleep talk. In her opinion that’s a weak consolation prize, and not really much of a prize at all. Her things are quickly shoved away and she heads up to grab her rations while she can. There’s only two tidemakers now, and she has a feeling her schedule is about to get a lot more packed. She stops after a few drinks, keeping herself sober enough to post a reliable watch.
The first half is quite calm. She missed the quiet ease on the Volkvolny, the relative safety of knowing you’re surrounded by people you trust. The waves are gentle, the ship gently bobs side to side. Y/n pinches her cheeks a few times to stay awake, making small talk with her partner. The lanterns and voices on deck catch her attention. Alina’s taking the amplifier. Her eyes widen, and her heart beats a bit faster - hopefully this won’t be what kills her, there’s much more poetic ways to go out. Her eyes immediately find Tamar standing next to Tolya, the two of them looking the part of solemn sentries. Sentries for a Saint.
The power and light that burst from her is undeniable, and y/n finds herself taking deep breaths to find her calm again. She’s lucky she didn’t fall off the rigging. Her face feels like it’s been freshly sunburnt. As always, her eyes search for Tamar first. And that’s when she knew she’d lost her. The look in her eyes. Y/n didn’t know exactly what it mean’t, just that Tamar belongs to someone now. Well, Tamar never belonged to her in the first place, and theres a strong chance she’s reading into this too much, but she’s always been particularly perceptive, and her hunches usually turn out to be right. Angry tears prick the corner of her eyes.
‘You’re a mercenary,’ she thinks to herself, ‘not a jealous, petty school girl.’ She takes a deep breath and schools her features back into a look of awe, before anyone can catch on. Someone replaces her and she takes up post at the stern, ready to help move to ship along. It’s likely someone spotted the light show Alina put on, and the best they can do it get as far away as possible.
–
The next few weeks go by quickly, and she barely sees Tamar. Well, she sees her everywhere, but rarely interacts with her. Is y/n avoiding her? Or is Tamar avoiding y/n? They never got to celebrate. Whispers say that they may be leaving to do something with the Sun Summoner and Nikolai. Saints, she feels like a whiny child. She resolves to find out more on her next watch with Tolya.
Later that day
“Do you think you’ll go with him?” She asks, staring out into the horizon, keeping her voice just loud enough so he’ll hear.
“With who? Where?”
“Captain. To Ravka, with Alina.”
Tolya’s eyes are alarmed, like he didn’t expect her to know what was going on, or what was to happen.
“Saints Tolya, i’m not stupid.”
“Nobody called you stupid.”
“Maybe someone should’ve. That’s besides the point.” She turns to face him, taking her eyes off the water momentarily. “Are you going with them?”
He sighs. “Keep looking.”
She rolls her eyes but listens. She’s surprised when he keeps speaking. “You’re not asking about me. You’re asking about Tamar.”
“Well, you both go everywhere together.”
“He thought about asking you along.” Tolya says. He’s talking about Sturmhond. Or Nikolai. Depends on the situation. I know they’re going to Ravka, but to do what i’m uncertain.
“Really?” I hummed, trying to sound as disinterested as possible, it’s not working.
“But after we lost Hendrik and Dmitri.”
It feels like an iron fist is gripping her heart, and she chokes out her next breath. The other Tidemakers lost against the Darkling. It’s only her and one other now.
Tolya pauses. “After we lost them, you’re needed here.”
“Needed.” I let the words roll around my tongue. Needed here. But wanted? What if I want to be somewhere else? “Thank you for the heads up.” She gives Tolya a terse smile, trying her best to look content. I can tell he isn’t convinced, but he does smile back.
End Flashback.
–
Three nights later, Tamar finds her. It’s dusk, and she’s sitting up on deck, deep in conversation with Kostya. She feels a tap on her shoulder, and doesn’t turn around and hesitates before turning around. Kostya glares at her and she finally does. Tamar’s standing behind her, one hand outstretched.
Tamar doesn’t miss the side eye y/n sends to Kostya, but chooses not to comment. It shouldn’t feel like she’s headed to the gallows, but somehow it does. She takes her hand, and lets her heave her up to her feet. She shakes her hand off as soon as they stand up, and sees the hurt flash through Tamar’s eyes. It’s enough to make her start chewing on her bottom lip,
“Come on.” She says, taking the initiative and leading them below decks to somewhere more private. They end up in her room this time, and she chooses to stand on the opposite side of the small room, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. For once, Tamar doesn’t speak right away, instead it seems like her eyes are taking in every inch of her - memorizing every detail. Y/n keeps avoiding eye contact, leaning up against the wall and tilting her head up to stare at the overhead.
“We’re leaving tomorrow.” Tamar says finally.
Her heart jumps, and the same tears from a few weeks ago threaten to prick her eyes, “are you excited?” She asks, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling.
Tamar sighs before crossing the room. Her hands cup her cheeks, guiding her back down to try and meet her eyes. “Why don’t you ever look me in the eyes?” She murmurs. Y/n doesn’t have a good answer, what’s she supposed to say?
‘I’m scared i’ll cry if I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. I’ll quite literally get lost in your eyes. It’s too intimate. It scares me.’ Instead she doesn’t say anything.
“Give me something, please.” Tamar says, this is the most desperate she’s heard her voice. She cringes at herself when the desperation gives her a sick sense of satisfaction. Give her something? It’s been weeks and they’ve barely exchanged a word. If she wants something she can have her fury and pain. The sting that comes with feeling abandoned, discarded, tossed aside for the next big thing.
“You want something?” She spits out through clenched teeth. Tamar takes a step back, her eyes widening slightly at her tone. Normally y/n is level-headed and calm, it’s rare to see strong emotions leak into her voice. “Weeks. You’ve rarely spoken to me. Granted I didn’t try very hard, I know you’ve been busy with your new Saint.” She struggles to keep her tone kind. “I’m happy for you, by the way, that you’ve found a purpose. And I get it, your life has changed. That doesn’t mean you had to …” Her voice breaks and she can’t finish her sentence.
“Leave please.” She croaks. Tamar doesn’t move and y/n opens her mouth to tell her to go again, but instead she’s wrapped in a bone-crushing, enough that she can barely breathe, let alone move her arms and hug back. She doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t complain, relishes in the touch and contact. Her body melts into her, leaning slightly. Just one hug and she melts. ‘Pathetic.’ she thinks to herself. ‘You’re being pathetic.’
“I’m sorry.” She whispers, pulling back, and running a hand through her short hair. Y/n’s never seen Tamar like this, lost for words or confused. She always seems so self-assured, so strong in her conviction, fearless.
“Sorry for what?” She knows the answer, but she wants to hear it - needs to hear it. Hear Tamar admit it, validate what y/n felt these last few weeks.
“Neglecting you. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to celebrate.”
Y/n laughs, not an amused chuckle or a happy belly laugh, one of disbelief. “If you think that’s all I cared about then you’re much less perceptive than I thought you were.” She tries to put the emphasis on ‘cared’, but it doesn’t come out that way. Care is more accurate, she still cares.
Tamar seems confused, “I don’t understand.” Her tone is genuine and honest. Y/n feels herself soften more, a little bit of the ice melts away. She finally meets her eyes.
“I care about you dimwit.” Tamar’s eyes narrow at the insult, but she doesn’t break eye contact. “I wanted … I still want more for us. I want to get to actually be with you, beyond just ‘celebrations’, and the occasional hug or kiss on the forehead when you remember.”
“Why haven’t you said anything before?”
Her voice raises slightly, “because you outrank me and I don’t want to be fired, because I thought it was obvious, because I thought you’d have said something by now.” The outranking part is true - not that it matters too much on the ship, but enough for her to be nervous. Rogue Grisha have difficulty finding safe employment in this world. Safe in the sense of nobody forcing her to serve an army or enslaving her. Her job isn’t safe by any means, but it's freedom.
“Quiet.” Tamar hushes her.
She takes a deep breath before speaking in a normal tone. “Tell me I'm delusional.” She’d have laughed at Tamar’s expression if the situation was different. “Tell me you never wanted me. Tell me you’re leaving and not coming back.” Tamar reached out and held one of her hands.
“You’re not delusional, I do want you, I am leaving, but I don’t know if I’m coming back.”
“Three out of four, not bad.”
Tamar huffs, evidently tired of the argument, before pulling her into a bruising kiss. It catches y/n by surprise but she returns the same energy. Normally Tamar’s a tease, takes her time, taunts her, but this time everything moves fast. She lets out a moan as her neck and chest are covered in small bites, she’s being loud but doesn’t care this time. Two of Tamar’s fingers are shoved into her mouth, and she sucks them eagerly, gagging slightly but that just makes the other girl’s fingers dig into her mouth further. Her shirt is ripped off, thrown halfway across the room, followed by her bra and her knives tossed into an open chest. Normally she’d throw a fit about that, but right now she doesn’t care. Y/n reaches for the bottom of Tamar’s top, starting to tug it over.
“No.” Her voice is low and firm. Y/n’s eyes widen slightly before she removes her hands. Tamar flips her around, pushing her hands up against the wall, her body flush against it. The cool wood digs into her nipples, causing them to stand on edge. She moans as a hand comes around to rub circles into her clit. She shifts to try and reach for the other girl but Tamar’s body pushes forward to pin her back against the wall.
“Did I say you can move?” Her lips graze across her ear.
“No.” She gulps.
“Are you going to stay still?”
“Yes.” It comes out as a whisper.
“And quiet?”
She nods.
“Good girl.”
Y/n swallows a moan, biting harshly on her lower lip, as two of Tamar’s fingers push into her from behind, setting a brutal pace. She pants, her breaths coming rapidly. Another finger pushes into her, it’s taking most of her energy to hold back a scream. All she wants is to beg, beg for more, tell her how good it feels, but she knows if she opens her mouth it’ll stop. She’s nearly over the edge, her walls starting to tighten around Tamar’s fingers when she stops. A small whine escapes her lips.
“Can you take my whole hand?” Her voice is back in her ear. Y/n’s breath catches. She’s done it once before, and it was incredible, but left her legs shaking for nearly an hour. She wants it, Saints she wants Tamar so bad that she’ll take her in any way she can. She nods.
“Words.”
“Yes please.” “What’s our safeword?”
“Butterfly.” It comes out without hesitation, this is a routine they’ve danced several times before, and she loves the question. Something else pops into her head, and she turns over her shoulder to look at Tamar. The expression on her face surprises her, it’s full of lust, want, and maybe something mournful? She ignores the last part.
“Can I do something first?”
Tamar looks surprised but nods. As quick as she can on shaky legs, she turns and drops to her knees in front of her. There’s a small pain as the wood digs into her bare knees, but she ignores it, tilting her head up to make eye contact. Tamar’s jaw drops. Y/n had never gone on her knees without prompting before, and it isn’t something she loves, except with her - not that she’d ever admit it.
There’s no hesitation as her clothes come off. One hand braces herself against the wall, and the other cups the back of her head to guide her forward. Y/n’s hands grip her thighs and her tongue comes out slowly, licking up and down her folds, savoring every taste. Tamar is soaking wet, and it makes her smile. She sucks lightly on her clit and Tamar moans quietly above her, Y/n has her coming undone quickly, she knows exactly what she likes, and one finger stroking the space just behind her pussy sends her over the edge, her hand twisting violently in her hair. She feels herself soaking, leaking slightly onto the floor. As soon as the other girl’s finished her orgasm, she yanks y/n back to her feet, barely giving her time to steady her legs underneath her, before giving her a rough kiss. One of her hands moves to slam her wooden chest shut, and she gasps as she’s bent over it.
She bites her hand to keep back a moan when her fingers slam into her without hesitation. “You are so fucking good.” is whispered in her ear and she bites harder.
Another finger goes in, that’s four now, “so good for me.”
She whimpers, already feeling her legs going slack, her entire body weight shifting to lean on the chest.
“Almost there love.” Her final finger slips in and she feels like she might cry from ecstasy, Tamar moves slowly giving her time to adjust. Y/n doesn’t want it, and breaks the rules - breaks her silence. Part of her is a brat after all.
“Saints Tamar fuck me like you mean it.” One hand fists her hair, pulling her up so she’s looking right at the other girl.
“Say one more thing and I'll leave you on edge for the rest of the night.” It’s an empty threat and she knows it but she nods anyways
“Good girl.” Shivers run down her spine, and her toes curl. Those two words have so much power over her. Tamar’s hand releases her hair, letting her head rest back on down the chest, her fist pushes in and out of her brutally, and y/n draws blood on her hand from biting down so hard. One hand reaches back to try and grab Tamar’s free hand. She didn’t say not to move after all. She reaches it and grips it like a lifeline. Tamar rubs circles into the back of her hand. How is it she can hold her so gently with one hand and fuck her brutally with the other?
Her walls pulse around Tamar’s hand and she finishes violently, her back arching and screams muffled by her hand. Y/n doesn’t move, knowing her legs would immediately give out from underneath her. It doesn’t phase her when Tamar moves and y/n hears the sounds of her dressing, and the door closing behind her. Part of her fears she’s just left completely, but she comes back with a bucket of water and a rag, and makes quick work cleaning them up. Her hands gently scoop her, wrapping around her stomach, and lift her into the hammock so her head is resting on her chest.
She whispers sweet things into her ear, the words seem to blur as she’s lost in her own world. It could’ve been ten minutes or ten hours when Tamar’s pinch on her side brings her back. It must’ve been closer to an hour because her legs aren’t shaking quite as violently anymore.
“Hm?” She mumbles.
“You need to get dressed.”
She groans but stands up, getting some new clothes for herself. One hand braces against the wall to keep herself steady, she looks into the small mirror, her neck and chest are covered in small but deep purple bruises. Her jaw drops as she turns to look at Tamar, who just laughs at her.
“Sit. I’ll heal them.”
She jumps up on the chest, scooching until the back of her knees hit the edge.
Her hands are gently as she grazes over the spots on her neck, and chest, leaving just one behind. Y/n rolls her eyes, it’s typical of her to do that - leave one in an area she can easily conceal. She heals the bite on her hand as well. The silence after becomes uncomfortable.
“I don’t know what to say.” The words come out before she can think twice.
“I’ll say I don’t regret a single moment of this. Of anything.”
She lets out a small, sad smile. “I don’t either.” And brings her arms up to pull her into a gentle kiss. Nothing else needs to be said, they’ve come to an understanding. They both know it’s a goodbye kiss - a goodbye for now.
–
The next early morning, she’s on watch as they leave.
“Saint’s willing, we’ll meet again one day.” Her words came out low, almost like a whisper or prayer. They thankfully went unheard, and she waved to the dark sky as Tamar flew off in the hummingbird.
Kostya clapped a comforting hand on her shoulder, “They’ll be alright.”
She turns back, giving them a terse smile. He’d mistaken it for worry, probably a good thing.
The crew makes themselves scarce for a while, keeping careful tabs on every hint of the Darklings location. If they were caught by him they likely would not survive, and likely would come to very painful deaths, something none of them were particularly interested in. She wonders if he would spare Grisha, she hopes not - if they were to be captured she’d rather get the same treatment as the rest of the crew, as morbid as that sounds.
The next few months go by pretty quickly, and when she gets offered the chance to go to the Spinning Wheel, she takes it. A break from the seas will do her good. The idea of seeing Tamar doesn’t cross her mind, surprisingly. She’s become a memory - a good one, but a memory.
–
Spinning wheel
It’s strange being with her crew on land. Everyone's the same, but a bit more tense. There’s a certain safety at sea - it’s more difficult to be ambushed. She’s surprised when Alina remembers her - even her name, and cheers along with the rest when she cuts the top of a mountain off.
Y/n noticed the connection between her and Nadia almost immediately and it didn’t hurt like she thought it would, she offered her congratulations instead.
An argument starts when Sturmhond tells her she’s going on the mission to hunt the firebird. Well, asks her, he knows he can’t really tell her to do anything. She supposes she should call him Nikolai now.
“You’re the best tidemaker we have.” Nikolai says.
“They could bring anyone else.”
“Tamar asked for you.”
“That’s the problem.” She whispers.
He sighs, walking around the table to clasp a hand on her shoulder. “I know you two have history, but I’d feel better knowing you’re there. Tamar asked for you for a reason, and I doubt it’s to have a sordid tryst in the middle of the night.”
Y/n’s eyes narrow and she glares at him as he laughs. “They’re taking Ana.” Ana is another friend from the Volkvolny, a Materialki that put the last amplifier on Alina. Her eyes light up, and the look on his face tells her he knows he’s won.
“Fine.” She says reluctantly. “I’ve always wanted to visit there.”
“I doubt that.”
“No, but it makes me feel better.”
“Whatever it takes” he winks before leading them out of the room.
The ambush surprises them all. She takes another look at the crew, a tidemaker isn’t completely essential, and there’s too much weight already. She can tell Nevsky is thinking the same thing. Despite her being Grisha, they became fast friends.
“One last time?” he whispers to her. Not that they’d had times before, but she guesses he likes the dramatic effect.
“Lets do it.” She replies. He says something quiet to Alina before yelling,
“For the 22nd.” He leaps over the side with his soldiers.
“For Sturmhond.” She whispers before following them. Tamar’s scream is lost in the noise.
make every moment count
Tamar x f!Reader
A/N: Probably don’t read this in public. I posted the sfw version a while ago but here's the full nsfw one! sfw version here
Summary: Tamar tries to defend your honor on a night away from the Volkvolny.
Word Count: ~4k
Warnings: Attempted SA, NSFW, slight violence, power dynamics.
She’s standing up at the bar, it’s crowded, several ships have pulled in within the last few days and it always makes for a busy night. She is well aware of Tamar’s eyes on her back, watching her every move. It’s protective in a cute way, she knows y/n can handle her own, but still likes to keep an eye out, ‘just in case’. She’s waiting patiently for her turn, she’s already had a few drinks and doesn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes. A shoulder roughly pushes her to the side, shoving her further away from the barkeep.
“Hey!” she protests, turning to look at the person. The man in question is obviously Fjerdan, would be considered mildly attractive - if she was into men. But, he reeks of beer and fish that’s been left out a few days too long, his teeth are slightly yellowed as he smiles.
“Girls don’t need drinks.” His words come out in broken kerch, a Fjerdan accent. She rolls her eyes and ignores his comment, shoving him back out of her way with surprising strength, and takes her previous position. His frustrated grunt sounds behind her, and she ignores it. She’s dealt with his type before, Fjerdan deckhands on their first few trips who haven’t learned their place yet. Most of them have never seen a woman carry a weapon, let alone try and order their drinks in a bar. Saints forbid she carry a weapon and order her own drinks. Her knowledge of Fjerda is unfortunately skewed and limited to what she’s seen from Fjerdan sailors. Maybe one day she’ll visit, if they ever stop burning and executing people like her.
She freezes when she feels his hand harshly make contact with her ass. It’s obviously intentional and she’s filled with fury. It’s one thing to shove her out of the way for drinks, but another completely to try and grope her. It won’t end well for him, especially with Tamar watching her like a hawk. Maybe her senses are slowed by the alcohol but a few seconds pass before she turns around, arm pulled back - ready to break his nose, but he’s already being dragged out. Tamar had gotten there first. The entire room has gone silent, all eyes watching the Shu girl drag a tall, well built, sailor outside like he’s a doll.
“Saints” y/n curses under her breath before following them outside. It’s approaching winter in Ketterdam, and the air is growing crisp again. Not enough to need a jacket, but not enough to be comfortable in short sleeves. Not for the first time, she wishes for the mild falls and winters of Novyi Zem, her favorite place to dock. Weddle is beautiful - clear seas, bright skies, full of colors and the smells of different spices. Ketterdam smells like fish and waste - to her at least, some people love it here, but she’d rather be almost anywhere else.
A small crowd gathers as Tamar pushes the man out the door, into the open space in front of the pub. Y/n smiles as she watches her punch him in the face, something flushes inside her, something she needs to ignore right now, it’s not the time and definitely not the place. Her smile drops as he calls her foul names. Her eyes narrow and she stalks up behind him, bending to grab a small stone off the floor.
“Hey idiot.” She launches the stone at the back of his head, and it meets his target. His face turns back to her, he looks oafish, and she can see the purple bruise already forming on his cheek. He’s caught off-guard enough that he misses the kick she lands right to his groin. He’s not as phased as she would’ve hoped but she dodges his weak attempt to fight back. A large figure steps in front of her, and shoves him back - he tumbles several feet away into the dirt. It’s Tolya. Y/n tries to dodge past him after the man, but Tolya throws her over his shoulder. She grumbles, pounding weakly into his back.
“I had him.”
“I know. We’re getting out of here before the two of you get us in any more trouble.”
Y/n just huffs, but doesn’t argue with him. She notices Tamar following them a few paces behind, another crewmate by her side, evidently trying to keep her from turning around. She stills hears Tamar still cursing obscenities at him over her shoulder. Now that y/n’s being dragged away, she knows Tamar won’t stick around any longer. The man’s crewmates are holding him back, keeping him from trying to retaliate further - a smart move.
A few streets down, Tolya finally lets y/n down. Tamar’s caught up, and was walking right beside them - but didn’t do anything to get Tolya to let y/n down.
“Traitor” she mutters once her feet are back on solid ground. Tamar just winks and wraps an arm around her shoulder.
“We can’t take you two anywhere.” Tolya grunts. His voice sounds disappointed, but she can see the amusement in his eyes.
“What do you mean?” Y/n says. “We’re a great source of entertainment.”
“More like trouble. Can’t go more than three visits without one of you starting something.”
Her eyes narrow. “He started it.”
“You’re right.” He sighs.
They all laugh, and split up for the night. Tolya and the other crewmate head back to the ship, but they’d opted to stay at an inn, taking a break from the Volkvolny for a night. Getting some time and space alone may have been a big motivating factor. As far as the crew officially knows, they are just platonic friends, but y/n knows they aren’t fooling anyone - but they have so far refused to officially tell anyone. In the name of professionalism - as much as you can get in a pack of rogues and mercenaries, they keep it to themselves. Tolya knows, of course, Tamar can’t keep anything from him.
Y/n links her arm through Tamar’s, drawing her as close as she can while walking. “You know it’s incredibly attractive when you try to protect my honor.”
“Try?” She said, turning to face her. “I’m pretty sure I did, there wasn’t any try there.”
“I’m certain that was me.” There’s a small smile on her face, the mischievous kind. She knows what kind of argument she’s starting.
“Who’s the one who threw the first punch?”
“Who’s the one who threw the last?”
“Technically that was Tolya.” They reached their destination for the night, an inn well known to them, and luckily there’s a room available. Y/n hands over some Kruge in exchange for a key - attached to a chicken bone, and thanks the innkeeper before letting Tamar take her hand again, following her upstairs.
“Still, I won.” Y/n continues their argument from before.
“This is a competition now?” Her tone is light, and there’s amusement in her eyes.
“Isn’t everything?”
“That’s one way to look at things.” Tamar keeps a firm grip on her hand, tugging her with more urgency up the stairs towards their room. She counts the numbers on the doors.
“You’re absolutely ridiculous” she says to her back, barely keeping up.
“You love it.” she says without turning around.
“It’s possible.”
“Probable.” This time she does turn around, and her grin is infectious. Y/n can’t help but smile back.
She groans anyway, “please don’t start talking like him.” They’ve reached their door now and y/n steps in front to unlock the door, her fingers fumbling slightly with the key - maybe from nerves, maybe from mead. Tamar wraps her arms around her and plucks the key out of her hands, unlocking the door with a wink that makes her roll her eyes. She gives her a gentle shove inside and follows her, closing the door behind them.
As soon as the door is locked, her back is pressed up against it. Not too roughly, but not gentle either. Tamar’s body follows, notching perfectly into hers. She loves the feeling of the soft leathers pressed up against her chest, the hilt of the knife strapped to Tamar digging into her stomach.
Tamar’s forearms are braced on either side of her head, and her forehead presses against y/n’s. “I love seeing you punch someone.” she says, her voice low and breathy.
“That’s probably a bad thing.” y/n replies, but can’t help the pink flush that slowly fills her cheeks at the praise. The corners of Tamar’s lips turn up, and y/n’s eyes narrow, knowing she can sense her blood flow. It’s an unfair advantage, she knows exactly what each word and action does to her, and no matter how much she denies it, Tamar can tell if she’s lying or not.
“Depends who you’re punching.”
“Maybe i’ll make it a habit.”
“Slow down.” She laughs, “as much as I like it you probably shouldn’t go around punching people because of that.”
“You probably shouldn’t try to tell me what to do.” Y/n’s eyebrows raise slightly. Her hands pushing at Tamar’s shoulders so she can take in her whole expression. She creates enough space between them that she can cross her arms and tilt her head slightly. It’s a challenge, and Tamar takes it.
Quicker than she can blink, her hands grasp y/n’s wrists, and pin them above her head with one hand. The other comes to press two fingers up under her chin, tilting her chin up so she can meet her eyes. The expression in the other girl’s gaze sends goosebumps down y/n’s spine, and her blood rushing straight down.
“I remember quite clearly you like being told what to do.” Her breath catches, she searches for words, something to respond with, another sarcastic remark, but she can’t find any. The winning smirk on Tamar’s face makes her eyes narrow. She’s not backing down, not yet at least. Tamar’s grip on her wrists is light, and she yanks her arms down, flipping their positions so she’s pressed against the door instead.
A slight look of shock passes across Tamar’s face, and y/n takes the chance to slide one hand up her body to rest on her throat. A smile crosses Tamar’s face, and it infuriates her. Her hand follows hers, covering the hand on her throat and pressing firmer. “You have to actually mean it.” Somehow she’s the one pinned to the wall, but still in control of the whole situation.
Y/n’s jaw drops. Tamar moves her hand off her throat, and leans down to grip underneath both of her thighs. Moving on instinct and muscle memory rather than conscious thought, y/n jumps, wrapping her legs around her waist, and her arms around her neck.
Tamar’s lips graze across her ear, “good girl” and her entire face flushes, she’s certain her skin is completely red now. She walks them over to the bed, her eyes focused on hers, and gently throws her down.
Y/n’s brows furrow when Tamar doesn’t follow her on the bed, she reaches up to tug her down.
Tamar sighs, eyes looking down to gaze at her. “Weapons.”
“What?”
“We need to take our weapons off.”
Y/n laughs, and takes the hand Tamar offers. She follows her over to the dresser, and between the two of them they leave a small armory behind, kicking their shoes and throwing their holsters off at the same time. She doesn’t waste any time getting her launched back onto the bed, practically throwing her from halfway across the room. Y/n bounces on the bed with a laugh, hands grasping at the sheets to keep herself from falling off.
Seconds later, Tamar hovers over y/n, arms propped to brace either side of her head. She attempts to arch her body up to meet hers, but a hand on her throat pinned her down, she lets out a small, involuntary, moan. It’s embarrassing how quickly she can make her wet, they haven’t even kissed yet, their lips haven’t met and yet she’s soaked completely. Y/n is tired of it. She reaches her hands up to cup the back of Tamar’s head to pull her down. To her surprise, Tamar lets her and they stop just a hair’s breadth away from each other. The golden tilted eyes dig into hers, and she pauses for a few moments. Her eyes are golden, with flicks of light brown. Y/n keeps eye contact, trying to memorize every bit of them she can. She watches as her eyes shift down towards her lips, and knows the pause is coming into an end. The kiss is dominating, possessive, and makes her toes curl. Every second is savored, every move of their lips, every touch, every feeling and sensation. They get so little time together - so little intimate time, that any second feels too precious to waste. She enjoys the surprise on Tamar’s face when she pulls back.
“I want to give first this time.” Y/n’s voice is soft and a bit timid. Unusual for her, but she’s always let Tamar take the lead in these situations. The other girl grins and leans back, pulling her up with her. Her hands run up and down her back.
“You do huh?”
“That’s what I said.” A bite of sass slips back into her tone. She grips the bottom of Tamar’s top, pulling it up with urgency, and Tamar copies her. Soon they’re both bare from the waist up, and she’s tracing Tamar’s torso. Her fingers are light, ghosting over the curve of her breast, the hardened muscle of her stomach. Her finger ghosts over her nipple, and she delights in the small, involuntary moan coming from the girl on top of her. Tamar’s slowly losing her patience, and she loves it. Soon, a calloused hand presses into her back, her chest is flush against hers, their bodies melting together perfectly. They meet in another kiss. It’s obvious y/n is hesitant, and Tamar pulls back, her fingers coming under her chin to tilt her head up.
“Do you trust me?” she asks.
“Of course.”
“What’s our safeword?” As soon as they started exploring more, Tamar insisted they set a safeword, even if what they were doing was mild. They’d never had to use it, but it gave them both comfort.
“You say it this time.”
“I want to hear you say it. Tamar’s gaze is unyielding and she knows this is a fight she won’t win.
“Apple.”
“Was that so hard?”
She rolls her eyes, pulling the other girl’s head down into another kiss, both hands cupping their cheeks. Tamar pulls the rest of their clothes off, leaving them both exposed on the bed. Thankfully the fireplace in the corner is burning steadily, keeping them both from freezing. Tamar pushes her on her back, head resting against the pillow. Their hips move in sync.
“Do you want to try something new?” she asks from on top of her.
Y/n nods eagerly, at this point her body is screaming for release, but all she wants is to give, to make Tamar come completely undone, all from her.
“Words.”
“Yes.” She doesn’t hesitate this time, there's no sarcastic remarks.
Slowly, she moves till her sex is hovering over her. Y/n looks up at her and nods, she slowly lowers herself down onto the other girls mouth. She starts slowly, but not with hesitation. Her tongue draws firm, slow, strokes up her folds, and she keeps her eyes on her. Her hands grip the headboard, and her eyes are closed. Her breathing is slow and controlled, is it because y/n is taking her time? She leaves a kiss on her clit, and feels the movement of the pillow as Tamar’s legs tense next to her. Her focus shifts to the bundle of nerves and her hands drift to rake small red scratches down her lower back. She hears the moan, and picks up her speed, flicking her tongue up on her clit. When she starts cursing from above her, she keeps a steady pace, allowing her to come undone completely.
Y/n’s pussy is completely soaked. Watching and feeling her come undone on top of her is some kind of saint-given blessing. She’s absolutely beautiful in a rough way, and she can’t keep her eyes off her. Tamar pants lightly and it’s not more than a few seconds before she’s moved off her.
She’s surprised when she starts immediately kissing down her body, starting at the space right below her ear. Y/n’s hips arch, and Tamar pushes to meet them, the heat of their bodies melting together.
“Have I told you how talented you are recently?” She murmurs, leaving small bruises across her chest.
“Maybe. But i’d like to hear it again” she can barely get the words out, a hand is twisting her nipple, and the moan she lets out is much louder this time.
“You are, and I can’t wait to make you scream.”
Y/n’s eyes widen, and her legs push together, trying to get some release, some friction, something. Tamar knows exactly what her words are doing to her, and she turns her on her side, one strong arm pulling her back flush against her stomach. Her fingers trace circles on her clit, one leg comes across to pin the others back, and y/n’s head tilts back to mold into her shoulder, letting out a loud moan in the process. Tamar kisses down her neck, leaving a large bruise right where her neck meets her shoulder. She slips one finger down into her folds, and y/n shudders, as it slips inside her. Tamar slowly slides another finger in, setting a brutally slow pace.
“More.” She moans.
“More what?”
“More please.”
Tamar pushes her shoulder, flipping her so she’s on her stomach, and pulls her hips up into the air, one hand pressing down on her upper back. Her fingers slide into her from behind. Y/n screams into the pillows, the position change making her fingers hit the perfect spot. Tamar stops, one hand twists into the back of her hair, her head is gently pulled up, and their eyes meet.
“I want to hear you.” All she can do is nod, her legs are already starting to shake and she can’t trust her voice. Tamar picks right back up where she left off, her pace just as brutal as she slides another finger in. That’s three now, and y/n is on the edge, about to tip over.
“Tamar.” She screams between moans. “Please.” she breathes heavily, “I’m so close.”
A hand comes around to press circles into her clit, and she’s over the edge. The other girl’s back presses into hers, and her hips slide down, slowly dropping closer to the bed.
“So good.” Tamar whispers into her ear. She takes her hand off her clit, but slowly moves her fingers in and out, letting y/n ride out her orgasm. After a few moments she slides her fingers out, adjusting their positions so y/n is laying on her chest. She slides her fingers into her mouth, and y/n cleans them without question, her tongue twisting around each finger, before sucking and letting them out with a pop. Tamar takes a deep breath, evidently using all of her willpower on self-control.
Her fingers run through her hair, letting her rest on her chest with one arm splayed over her stomach. Her eyes are closed peacefully, and y/n listens to her heart beat, enjoying the steady rhythm. Minutes or hours could’ve passed before she felt Tamar move. She grumbles but the other girl lifts her head, resting it on a pillow. She peeks her eyes open, and Tamar grabs some nightclothes, throwing a pair at her. Reluctantly she sits up, pulling the clothes on. Unfortunately, anyone can barge in at any time - they’re technically always on duty. It’s only happened once and thank the saints it was Tolya. That was the first and probably will be the last time she’s heard him let out a childish scream. They probably traumatized him. And they’ve remembered to lock the door every time since.
“Put some clothes on.” He yelled. “We’ve got to go,” and slammed the door behind him.
Hopefully this night would pass without any interruptions. Unfortunately, it never seems to work like that. Less than an hour later, someone’s banging on the door.
“Stay here.” Tamar mutters, darting over to grab a pistol before unlocking the door. She hears a sigh and mumbled conversation in Shu. Y/n’s Shu still isn’t great, but she catches the words “lead,” and “leaving right away.” in Tolya’s voice.
“For fucks sake.” She curses from the bed, dragging herself up to start changing back into her clothes. Tamar catches her moving out of the corner of her eye, and winks. After gathering her clothes, she moves to the other side of the room where Tolya can’t see her strip naked. No need to re-traumatize him. Tamar closes the door and leans back against it. She looks over at Y/N who's naked, pulling her underthings back on. She carefully rakes every inch of her body.
“Don’t you need to get dressed?”
Tamar groans but pushes herself off the door, heading over to get her clothes on.
“What’s going on?” Y/n asks.
“Sturmhond has a lead on the summoner.” Her voice is low enough no one outside the room will be able to hear them. Y/n glances at the window, checking for any signs of someone outside it. Their room is on the third floor, but paranoia has been built into her over the last few years.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“And he needs to leave immediately?”
“We’re half a day behind.”
They’re both fully dressed by now, and strapping their weapons back on. Her legs are still shaky and she stumbles trying to put a knife back in her boot. Tamar catches her, hands gripping her shoulder, and laughs.
“Careful.”
“It’s your fault.” She grumbles.
Tamar raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“I wasn’t” she can’t help but smile, her cheeks flush and she turns her attention back to her pistol, carefully strapping it on her thigh. Tamar reaches behind her and wraps an arm around her lower back, pulling her in so she’s flush against her chest. Y/n’s breath catches, and she looks up at her with wide eyes. She leaves a soft, gentle kiss on her lips before releasing her.
“I like your blush.”
“Shut up.” Tamar laughs, and does an extra check around the room, making sure they’ve grabbed all of their belongings. She tugs y/n out the door and back down the stairs. Y/n throws the key on the desk,
“Sorry,” she mutters, before following Tamar out. Tolya’s waiting for them in the street. They don’t speak about their destination anymore, knowing anyone can have ears around the city. They’re still on high alert even though the streets are nearly abandoned at this hour - 4 bells.
Tolya rushes them to the ship, grunting something about them being slow, before stopping them, just shy of the entrance to the docks. He points at Y/n’s neck, “Tamar, please fix that.”
Y/n turns to glare at Tamar, who laughs, but does look a bit chastised. She quickly heals the bruises, and soon they’re back on board. Sturmhond gives them a knowing look before they take off, y/n taking the first shift on the sails as soon as they leave the harbor.