Chapter Text
Ilya tightened his grip on his blades as he peered through tall, thick trees into a moonlit field. A dome of scattered lamplight peeked out from just beyond the hill. There, out of sight, was the Landry kingdom and its surrounding city. Maybe the falling snow would bury it. Ilya certainly hoped so. Considering the gentle sway of the snowflakes, it was highly unlikely. But a man could dream.
That dream was Ilya’s happy place, keeping him from spiraling over the fact that Svetlana and Princess Landry should have met him there just before sunset. That was long past. Long enough that a layer of snow covered his entire back. At least the snow should help regulate the fever that'd started that morning. Because that's how that worked. Probably.
The forest was far darker than he'd anticipated when they'd first planned the escape. The loon that roamed this area of the kingdom would be on the hunt for food. Ilya only hoped it was a male. They had a chance of outrunning a male. Even with Ilya's temporary snot nose. And sore muscles... And throbbing head. Hm. Ilya hoped Landry knew how to fight.
A bush rustled in the distance. Ilya crouched low, ready to jump out.
A pair of rabbits scurried out and across the field. Ilya's posture slumped.
Svetlana just had to go and set her heart on the damned princess of all people.
'She's so lovely, Ilya.'
'She's sunshine, Ilya.'
'She could help us change things, Ilya.'
"Freeze your ass off in the dark, nightmare forest, Ilya. You can be a chew toy for the northerner’s stupid wolf bird," he grumbled under his breath, scowling at the steam that puffed out as a result.
"Why yes, my dearest friend. What's a little frostbite between toes?"
A trilling howl echoed from somewhere deep in the forest.
“Fuck.”
Ilya slunk even lower and ignored the burn in his thighs and the snow seeping up his thick pant legs. Did getting torn to pieces go before or after frostbite and fevers in the ranking of shittiest ways to die?
Fucking northern territories with their fucking forests and their fucking killer bird monsters.
Returning to regroup and make yet another plan would be the smart thing to do. Some medicine would be great too. But Ilya wasn’t keen on going back without Svetlana. And Landry. Svetlana would kill him if they didn’t get Landry.
The howl stayed distant. The lone silver lining in an increasingly shitty pair of days.
Ilya could stay put for a bit longer. If the girls weren’t back by the time the moon began to sink, he’d go. Probably. Maybe.
Maybe he should sneak into the kingdom himself. What if they were stuck in some alley? What if Landry screwed Svetlana over? What if Landry’s overly-attached main guard caught them? The Landrys’ hound was a tough opponent to beat.
Ilya shook his head harshly. Absolutely not. Svetlana was one of, if not the best assassin in the east tribes. No way some streets, a princess or a glorified candelabra would get the best of her. Especially not if her oh so lovely Rose Landry was in the crossfire.
"Come on, Sveta."
Bright green light enveloped the field for a moment and nearly blinded Ilya. Change of plans then.
"Shit."
Ilya sheathed one blade in favor of a small metal cylinder and stood in a single motion.
Click.
Ilya blinked at the cylinder, still inert in his hand.
The trigger didn't work.
"Shit!"
Ilya smacked the stupid thing and spammed the trigger. Still nothing. Over a dozen successful tests, and now Luca's trinkets fuck them over!?
Another green flash. This time, hot enough to melt some of the snow off Ilya's back. Svetlana's voice cracked in the distance. Ilya could barely make out his own name.
"Here," he tried to cry out, only for his voice to come out weak before breaking into a wheezing cough.
"Fuck! Work, you piece of shit!"
A rough shake. Trigger. Nothing.
The sound of an angry crowd was now audible.
"Ilya!"
Svetlana sounded panicked. Ilya's heart thudded in his ears.
"Work!" he roared and slammed the damned thing into the snowy ground.
The explosion knocked Ilya on his ass as a column of red smoke flamed through the dark sky.
By the time Ilya's ears stopped ringing, he'd hacked half a lung up and scrambled back to his feet to watch Svetlana's silhouette appear over the hill. Another figure appeared just behind her, dragged along by the arm, a long skirt billowing in the wind.
Ilya emerged from the treeline and, once past the spreading cloud of red smoke, waved his arms. The moment Svetlana spotted him, she sped up. Landry kept pace behind her. Ilya would decide if he was impressed about it later.
"What the hell happened?" Ilya rasped as loudly as he could once the girls got close enough. They didn't slow.
"Run!" Svetlana shouted.
She might have had to tell him twice if not for the beast that leapt onto the cusp of the hill.
"Fuck!" Ilya cried and stumbled back for just a moment. Just long enough to see the beast and its rider pause to look around. Neither was properly geared up. The relief vanished when silver armor and spear tips glinted over the crest behind them.
Ilya turned heel just in time to run by Svetlana's side.
"That’s the fucking griffin!"
“No shit!”
“You alerted the guard!?”
"I didn't think he'd go for his war beast!"
"You alerted the entire guard, Svetlana!"
A screech told them the griffin was on their trail.
"Just run!”
And they did. Weaving and jumping and sliding between trees. The thud of large paws and that piercing screech grew louder anyway. Ilya held a small bag out to Svetlana. She ignited it with a pinch of her fingers, then tossed it behind them.
A moment later, the forest exploded in a shower of colors. The griffin let out a series of short screeches before a frustrated human shout rang out. Heat rushed over Ilya, Svetlana and Rose from behind as colorful fire licked at their heels. Someone screamed. Ilya was almost certain it wasn’t him.
"Fucking Luca," Svetlana cried.
"I prefer this to the griffin!"
"Sveta!” Landry cried.
“Rose!”
Svetlana was no longer next to him. Ilya skidded through snow and mud, scrambling to stop. Svetlana was at Landry's side by the time Ilya got his feet properly under him.
Landry was on her knees in the snow. Red speckled the white ground and her skirt. Ilya's stomach dropped for a moment, but Landry was already soothing Svetlana's concern.
"I'm okay, it's just a few scrapes."
Her gasping for breath sounded an awful lot worse than just a few scrapes.
Svetlana took a small glass bottle from her pouch and shuffled closer to Landry to treat her ‘scrapes’.
"Can you still run?" Ilya managed past his burning throat and chest as he came to stand beside them. Svetlana tensed, but didn’t say anything.
Landry hissed as the poultice met a particularly deep gash in her palm.
"I don't know, probably."
"We're so fucked."
Svetlana scowled at him. His brows raised and arms flared to his sides.
"What? I am borderline asthmatic, your girlfriend just fucked up her legs. And you-"
Svetlana’s mouth snapped shut before she could argue.
"-got the whole fucking guard on our tails!"
She scoffed.
"We've dealt with worse."
"The fuck we have! Fucking Landry's hound is on us with his war griffin! We can't outrun that, Sveta! They’ll be on us in like two minutes-"
"Wait," Landry tried to cut in. It didn't work.
"We can find a way past them!"
"Oh yes, please let me sprout wings and flutter away!"
Svetlana growled at him, eyes flashing a bright green.
"Quit flashing me and let’s figure out-"
He didn't get to finish his thought.
A deep growl came from the flames as the griffin prowled right on through, wings tucked in a protective cocoon around its rider. As soon as it cleared the flames, the cocoon unfurled, and a man nearly as tall as Ilya jumped down from its back.
Elemental Hollander, as far as Ilya was concerned, was a nightmare on the battlefield. And although Ilya was perfectly able to hold his own in a direct one-on-one, it was a fucking blessing that Hollander’s main duty was guarding the princess. On the few occasions Ilya had encountered him on the frontlines, he was always decked out in full armor. Not a sliver of skin exposed. Not a single weak point to stick a blade or arrow through.
Now, not only were Hollander and his griffin not in armor, but the man himself looked like he'd just woken from a terrible nightmare. His face was ashen, his eyes - red-rimmed and restless - scanned over Ilya and Svetlana. A thin gash bled across one cheek. Red bloomed on the chest of his grey sleep shirt. He was shivering beneath a snow-white cloak. Ilya was in the middle of cataloging these weaknesses only to stop short.
Were those striped pajama pants?
Ilya stared.
"Princess Landry," the hound addressed his princess, glancing at her briefly. "Are you hurt?"
"She's better than she's ever been," Svetlana spat and stepped in front of Landry.
Frustration shone through on the hound's face and… And his fucking nose scrunched. Ilya felt delirious.
"She's bleeding," the hound gritted out between clenched teeth, eyes taking on a golden glow.
"I'm okay-"
Svetlana shushed Landry. The hound scowled, eyes flashing.
Ilya shook his head to clear his thoughts and got into a ready stance, twin blades in hand, slightly crouched and ready to strike.
"Turn back, hound," Ilya rasped out. "And maybe you keep some shred of dignity."
The hound only squared his shoulders and glared directly at him.
"I'll do no such thing."
There was a joke somewhere in there that Ilya couldn’t quite formulate right now.
Hollander's griffin growled again and moved as if to flank them.
Svetlana's hand shot out and a green beam of light sliced into the ground in front of the beast. It caught the front of its broad chest, making it yelp and jump back.
"Lily!" Landry cried out.
Who the fuck was Lily?
Hollander whistled and the half-feathered, half-furred monstrosity hopped back behind him.
"You actually care about that beast?"
Hollander scowled at him, but didn’t reward him with any comeback. He only flicked his wrist, and the griffin disappeared behind the flames with a flap of its wings. Ilya cursed under his breath. He'd far rather have the thing in sight.
Hollander turned back to Svetlana, raised a hand of his own and, with the golden glow expanding in his eyes, spoke.
"Leave Princess Landry and we all walk out of this unscathed."
The wind picked up around them. The flames surged forward to enclose them. Hollander was pulling out his big tricks out the gate.
"It's too late for that, I think, mutt," Svetlana purred and raised both hands, each one with a bright green orb in the palm, just as Ilya sliced his own palm open and let his blood run along the engravings of his blade edges. They sang for him, thankful to be fed after such a long wait.
“Hold on-” Landry was ignored again.
A fight it was then.
Svetlana raised her hands, shooting searing green beams. Hollander cleared them easily. But Ilya was already there, lunging at him, blades aiming for his defenseless neck. For a moment Hollander’s startled eyes met Ilya’s furious ones. Ilya smirked. Then, wind blasted against him like an angry bull and knocked the air out of him.
His blades veered off course.
A well-placed beam from Svetlana sent Hollander sideways at the same time as snow swirled violently. She yelped as she got caught in it. But she’d done exactly as she’d needed to.
One of Ilya’s blades carved into the flesh between shoulder and chest. Hollander cried out. A burst of snow smashed into Ilya’s face. Green lights flashed beyond his closed eyes as Svetlana kept firing. Hollander roared with frustration. Ilya couldn’t focus on any of it as ice and slush went up his clogged nose and into his already-raw throat.
He hacked violently, chest constricting, then stumbled back as searing heat followed the assault of frigid cold. Boom after fiery boom landed at Ilya’s feet. The attacks were uncontrolled, poorly aimed.
A small part of Ilya was thanking the high heavens that Hollander seemed to be just as out of it as he was. Most of Ilya couldn’t formulate a single thought. Driven by pure instinct and reflex, he managed to stay just out of reach even as his legs buckled beneath him. When he finally squinted his eyes open, it was to see Svetlana, struggling with a flurry of snow and ice, catch a blast of fire. She fell with an infuriated cry and scorch marks across her thighs.
"Stop!"
Rose Landry's voice rang out, shrill and cracking.
Ilya was on his ass for the second time that night. Except this time it was worse because at some point, he’d lost his blades. Svetlana was laid out on the ground a little further out from him, clutching her wounded legs. Her lovely angel princess knelt beside her, shielding Svetlana with her own body.
"I command it," she ordered her guard.
Ilya could practically hear the tremble in her chin. Fat load of good that would do. It’d probably only set the bastard off. He growled and tried to pull himself up. His head spun and he fell back again with a chest-rattling cough. They were so fucked.
Shows how much Ilya knew though, because the hound did actually stop. The wind ceased, the fire receded, and even the griffin that'd apparently been circling in the shadows came into the light with wide eyes and a tilt to its head. Ilya hoped it stayed put.
Hunched over, gasping for breath, and clutching his bleeding shoulder, Hollander looked about as baffled as Ilya felt.
"But... They kidnapped you."
Landry shook her head.
"I wanted to go with them."
Hollander's brow furrowed. His head tilted similarly to his griffin.
"You...?"
"They want to fix things," Landry implored, her voice steadying.
What the hell was happening? Was Landry trying to leak their plans?
“Landry~”
"Rose~"
Svetlana and Ilya warned at the same time. Svetlana even tugged on Landry’s arm. The princess bludgeoned on anyway.
"You know how horrible things have become. We've talked about changing things for so long. This is our chance."
"They hurt you."
"They didn't. Sveta would never."
Landry intertwined her hand with Svetlana’s.
“She’s my beloved!”
The hound’s eyes blew wide and froze up. His gaze shifted from the girls to their intertwined hands and stayed there. The tension coiled tight in his shoulders.
Svetlana sat up to curl around Rose from behind, pulling her close with one arm while the other aimed for Hollander again. The griffin growled and sank low, braced to pounce.
For fuck’s sake.
Ilya struggled to his feet, groaning and grunting the entire way. His blades flew back into his hands at a flick of his wrists.
Wind picked back up. Snow swirled again. Hollander looked back up at Landry, like he was trying to dismantle her mind and read her thoughts.
Honestly, Ilya felt somewhat offended. Did he not pose enough of a threat for Hollander to keep an eye on? Underestimation was good though. Maybe they could take him now, while he was distracted.
Clanging of heavy armor, shouted commands, and calls for Princess Landry and Elemental Hollander carried into their frozen little bubble.
Ilya hung his head with a frustrated growl.
"We're going to fucking die here."
Svetlana grimaced up at him.
"Shane," Landry reached out to Hollander. "Please."
Even in their dire situation, this startled Ilya a bit. He’d never heard the hound’s given name before.
The hound stood still, wound so tight, Ilya could almost hear his spring creak. A rough voice cried in the distance.
"Oi, tracks! This way!"
Something flickered over Hollander’s expression. Then, in a move that completely baffled Ilya, he brought his hands to his mouth.
"The fuck are you..."
Confusion gave way to horror when a familiar trilling howl came from Hollander's cupped hands.
"What the fuck are you doing!?" Ilya hissed and scrambled to look around while moving closer to the girl's huddle.
A haunting howl answered in the far distance.
"Oh my god," Svetlana whispered. She and Ilya shared horrified looks. Ilya didn’t know which of them had gone paler.
Even the sounds of the approaching army shifted from determined calls and orders to hushed fright.
And yet, when Ilya turned to look at Princess Landry, he found her looking absolutely delighted. She gestured for Hollander's beast, and the thing actually came to her.
"Come, Lily. Kneel low for me. Good girl."
It took Ilya a few moments to realize Landry was trying to get Svetlana up on the griffin. He giggled (giggled!) when Svetlana started wiggling against Landry’s guiding hands with spluttered protests.
Then straight up laughed, hysterical even to his own ears, when Hollander made the sound again. A different rhythm, slightly different pitch. But the same unmistakable sound of the murderous northern wolf bird.
"You're insane! A fucking lunatic!"
"Quiet," Hollander hissed at him as he limped closer. Wind picked up and the snow around them shifted to make their tracks disappear.
Hollander crouched and, with a pained grunt, lifted Svetlana before she had time to register what was happening. She kicked in the air, yelping when the movement jostled her burn wounds.
"Put me down, you mutt!"
And he did. Right on top of his griffin's back.
He helped Landry up behind Svetlana. Ilya suddenly felt useless.
"Alright, Rose. Remember what I told you?"
Rose nodded, a determined look on her face.
"Lean with the body, don't squeeze too tight, if all else fails, hold on for dear life."
"Excuse me?" Svetlana squeaked as Rose leaned forward over her and grabbed handfuls of griffin fur. “This thing doesn’t even have reins!”
"Lily knows where to take you. She'll be back for me and Rozanov right after."
"Excuse me!?" Ilya and Svetlana hissed simultaneously.
Hollander crooned something to his griffon in a language Ilya didn't know, then gave what was apparently the command to take off. Within moments, the griffin disappeared beyond the thick forest canopy.
Ilya was stuck there with the Landrys' hound and a monster bird howling ever closer.
What the actual fuck?