Keeping on your toes[Nikola]

Nikola uncurled a little when Artur move closer to her, stretching out her legs so she was sitting beside him as he turned the pages, slowly in some parts, as he thought he might have recognised someone, and then faster in other places. Eventually he stopped, and took the pictures from her, one of which was another of her mother and Fisker, along with a third man that some people thought might have been one person, but others had listed as someone else… she’d managed to identify about eight of them, and was narrowing down the others, Names written clearly in black ink on the back of the identified pictures. The corner of her lip upturned again at his reaction to Pavel Krinov, shaking her head a little. Men who could potentially see each other as rivals when trying to get with women tended to not like each other, and she was not surprised. “There's a Welshman in that stack too… Bane was the only name I got for him, but they’re a prominent Welsh family. Hopefully someone will recognise him. It wasn’t just a… He could be from anywhere...”

But when he offered to speak to the two professors on her behalf, the little headshake remained. “No… I can do this myself. I need to… if need be I can say that a Meer child… and not paint it as myself.” she murmured. The expression on his face flickered between annoyance and concern as he looked through the pictures, and the names she’d written on the backs; but eventually settled on concern as his eyes turned back to hers. She couldn’t help but keep contact with him as he spoke, though she took a slow, steadying breath. “That...” her voice was a little shaky, and finally her gaze dropped to her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “That's always been a concern...” her voice was quiet, but obviously it was something that bothered her, had been for a long time.

The German witch’s head fell slowly onto his shoulder, for comfort. “She was disowned when i was three… because she’d abandoned me to run away with a halfblood… the family… me… we’ve always known. And with that uncertainty...” it was hard for her. “No one ever loved me any less… it wasn’t my fault. But we all knew… we couldn't pretend that I was...” she straightened up for a moment, before leaning back and lifting her shirt, just enough to show off her hip, and the intricate Sigilwork that had been tattooed on her body. “I won’t take that risk. Not with the uncertainty. If I had a child with a halfblood, and turned out to be pureblood, then i’ve damned my descendants. And the opposite stands true… if i really want a child I can always adopt… but unless I know...”

She pulled her shirt back down and curled back up against him, her head returning to his shoulder. “I’d be alright… at this point I kind of expect it. But not knowing… thats hard.”

Artur noticed her body stretched as if she was a slim feline who was finally found the air warm enough to pull itself out of its tightly tucked ball.  The corner of his mustache tugged a little up in response. He was happy she appeared to be feeling better. He reckoned that she just needed to talk about this..and he could imagine it been a lot to process by herself. All he wanted to do was help her, but it seemed like all she really needed was an ear, for she turned down his suggestions. He should have known. Nikola had always seemed self-reliant and had an unshakable determination within her.

He had not meant his inquiry of her pure blood status to hit her so hard. He felt her thin body next to him draw in a breath before her gaze fell to her knotted hands. Her words came out, as if she is admitting to a grave mistake. The professor had not seen her this way since five years ago, when he had chastised her quite harshly for failing to adequately take care of her sword. As he processed her words which spilled forth as one would see blood pulsing out of the last beats of a pierced heart, he understood why.

He had his hand still on the photos, but he wasn't looking at them, instead his gaze fell to the dark head of hair now leaning on his shoulder. As she continued her explanation, he realized that Her mother... she was the center of all of this... It was not fair. Artur who never deserved anything, had the world’s best mother. Nikola who was practically an angel sent to earth (who instead of wings she adorn flowy purple robes and black leggings) , got a succubus she devil witch for a mother instead. Artur could not imagine anyone abandoning a childlike Nikola. He shifted his arm around her, letting her rest her head against his chest. He had a sudden wild notion of buying a quarter of a century black market time turner … but he settled for patting her far shoulder softly.

Her confession of sorrow took as surprising turn when his little Perovskia leaned back and started to lift her shirt. His wild thoughts went where most virile wizard's thought would, before it was replaced with the horrible notion that she was showing him a bruise. He twisted around to have a better look, but the mark he saw was not a bruise or scar but instead a sigil. Artur had been with enough women to know what it was for. He in fact had his own sigil on his upper-inner thigh to allow for his own indiscretions to be without consequences.

Yet he bares it to be able to have fun, while she wears it as a pendens for her mother’s misdeeds.

“My Perovskia, if there is anyone that is able to put this twenty-year-old puzzle together, it is you.” He said giving her another squeeze across her shoulder before adding, as he gestured to the twelve photos. “Look how far you came. Farther than anyone in your family. Father than anyone expected. It is just like you to surprised everyone… and don't worry, you will find the answer. You are young there is plenty of time to track down 12 men, hold a blade to their throat and demand where they were 25? Oh, pardon me, 24 years ago. You might be surprised how much a sharp blade jogs a wizard’s memory.” He gave a laugh, and the joke to lighten up the mood and see a smile return to her soft pink lips, before adding partially in German. “Oh, and you have you have the rest of your life, to reverse that sigil and have ten to fifteen ‘liebling dunkelhaarige (darling dark haired)' babies if you want too.”

He leaned over and rested his cheek on her head before he gave her a pat on the back as to say… get up and stop moping… and pickup your sword. He glanced down at the table monetary wondering if there were any napkins near if she needs it. He was such a bad gentleman often using his last handkerchief for his blades, instead of keeping at the ready in case a woman was in need. But instead his eye caught the back of the photo listed as “? Bane " and it was then something clicked, and he realized he could help her with something.


“Wait did you say that Welsh Wizard was named Bane?”  He said as he extracted his arm form around her and flipped the photo over. He then picked the photo album to working his way back through the pages looking for a wizard displaying welsh features. “I met some Banes… my family knows of them. They are purebloods that run a potion making company. I believe they purchased our product quite often back in the day..., I mean, from my family’s company, Nikitin Ingredients. I am sure My father, or my brother, Ilya… Wait. Yes .. see here. My brother looks like he is introducing his fiancé to the same Bane guy.” He pointed at the photo he found in the book before. He made sure she sees the similarity. “I could show my brother this photo and ask my brother his first name. I could likely get the Bane family address to where we billed too. ”

She had not realized previously how much comfort she found with Artur, or how much his presence helped reassure her. She could have left all of this until the next year, after the festival. But Deviners were hard to get ahold of. At least the ones with a good reputation. It had taken her several months to track them all down. And with any luck she’d get busier after the festival, not less busy. So she really hadn’t had a choice. And she hadn’t expected things to get quite this bad. She’d thought she was managing pretty well, but it had taken her mentor to call her out on it. She’d been using potions and caffeine to keep herself awake, alert, and looking fresh faced, and alcohol to help her sleep at night. It wasn’t healthy, but she’d just convinced herself it was because she was rushing.

His arm around her, and his soft words of reassurance did more for the young woman then he could know. She kept her emotions very close to the chest, carefully allowing them out in a controlled manor when it benefited her to do so. But with Artur or Edyta, when she really needed to, Nikola truly found herself able to open up. She grinned a little when her mentor suggested she use her blades to be persuasive. “You and solving every problem with swords or sex.” she laughed, shaking her head with pretend disapproval. “And here I was thinking my silver tongue and sharp wit would be enough.” but in truth Nikola had every intention of speaking to them herself, and just not alluding to the fact that she was searching for her own father. She was a Meer, searching for the father of another Meer, purely for blood status reasons and not at all because she was a lost girl looking for her own father to help gain some sense of identity in her life. Because she certainly didn’t need anyone’s help for that. She was accomplished all on her own, and didn’t need anything from him but that singular piece of information. And if she told herself that enough times, she might actually believe herself.

It was nice to simply sit with Artur and relax, but then he sat forwards and looked at one of the twelve again, picking it up and repeating the name as though he knew it. She mirrored him, leaning over to look closer as he pulled the photo album back over to them and flipped through it. “Huh… the family resemblance is strong, i wonder how i did not recognise him as your relation sooner...” she murmured, even though she was pretty sure of the answer. She’d only been interested in men interacting with her mother, and this man had not been. Of course that didn’t rule him out entirely, but the way that he looked at the woman on his arm? Nikola was fairly certain that Ilya Nitkin was not her father. And it wasn’t something she was going to tease artur about either. For some reason it felt… awkward, wrong. Especially the way her hand was resting on his leg to keep herself stable as she leaned over to look.

Straightening up and removing her hand, reaching for her glass and draining the last of it so as to disguise the thought that flickered through her mind, she nodded. “That would be very helpful, if you think your brother can identify him. Take the picture.” she removed the one of Ilya talking to the Bane man and handed it over to him, almost a little excited. If he could help her solve that mystery, that would be one less worry for her. She certainly didn’t want to confront family about their fathers/brothers or husband’s potential indiscretions if she didn’t have to.

Straightening up, suddenly uncomfortable by how close they were sitting together but hiding it well, Nikola stretched, reaching for her ankles before leaning back, and looking back down at her mentor. “Perhaps we should practice our routine again for the festival? A warm up…. And then I think I am ready for a good fight.”

His eyebrows jumped with mock surprise, before he faked a dagger to his heart by putting his fist to his chest.  He then did a corny reenactment of his death scene with a new twist, “Ouch! I…. should…. have…. known, you…your …tongue and wit has always been your deadliest weapons….. Blah aah …”  He then fell back against the couch in silly collapse. Maybe, it was not the right time for a comical relief moment. On the other hand, he should get as much practice in as possible. That is why he is here.… after all.

Yet his shenanigans were destined to not continue. For the moment she extracted the photo from his mother’s book at placed it into his hands, his exuberance over the idea of being able to help her in at least one of the twelve potentials fathers was suddenly hit with a wave of ice water. He then realized that given the size of this party, and the fact his oldest brother was present, it was likely so to be his second brother and his father and mother would be too. His families track record of siring bastard children was quite well known, also his father's love of young women. Which was why his mother was twelve years younger then his father. He then remembered the thought he had before: Although it would be less likely that a wizard with a wife present would slip off, with the Meer heiress it certainly would not be impossible.

Under the disguise of concentrating on the photo, he thought about the possibility of Nikola being his half-sister or possibly a niece. It would explain her sharp wit like his grandmother, how her extraordinary skill with a sword was like his, and their connection... Was this why he was drawn to her, out of all his students?

Up until this point, he did not feel her hand, nor notice they were so close. It just happened without thinking. Like two ingredients being dropped into a empty cauldron, sliding down the sides destined to press together at the bottom. Instead, it was when she pulled away and he felt her void at his side that he knew just how close they were a moment a go. He did not realize at the time, but it was a strange feeling. It was different than the rush he got with his conquests. Purer. Like a combination of the joy he got when a student finally perfects a move and the feeling he got when he hugged his mother. It was a feeling of being use full and complete. He wanted it back…

What he wanted to do was grab her by her hips and pull her into his lap! No, that is what he would do with a lover. Which was insane. Nikola could be his sister or…. something. He knew then he had to find out. For part of him realized he had passed the acceptable Professor student, mentor pupal line and something had to be defined before anymore likes were crossed.

Artur stood up and pocketed the photo as well and the internal conflict of just how he would feel about Nikola being a relation. They were now three feet apart… where it was appropriate to be. He replied a little to authoritatively, “Yes, lets practice our routine again. But I am sure we would be warmed up, by then. Keep it to a short fight, it sounds like you will need to get some rest.” He so easily went in to his commanding Professor mode again with her, but he had to realize this was her project and she should run it.

Still it did not stop him from grabbing his empty cup and leading the way back to the stairs. With every step he put his focus on back to his blade, the moves and their routine anything else would have to be left for later.

{exit}

Nikola laughed at his silly antics, a pure, almost happy laugh, the soft smile remaining on her face as she rested her head against the back of the couch, relaxing comfortably as the two of them continued to speak and look through the pictures. If someone had told her five years ago that one of her most trusted confidants and dear friends would be the new swordsmanship professor who had taken over her seventh year, she never would have believed them. But sitting here now, without any constraints to what she allowed to show on her face, she couldn’t imagine not having him. Edyta was amazing, and a dear friend, but there were some things that the other girl was either too young, or culturally not going to understand. Such as Nikola’s concerns over her bloodstatus. But Artur understood, and could easily sympathise.

She watched him pocket the photograph of his brother and the Mystery Bane man and smiled when he agreed that going through their routine again. She had six definite names, and two possible names, and a 9th one she’d been able to find a potential name, though he was dead with no traceable family, so that one would probably be a dead end. That left three more to identify, but she had enough to at least get started, and perhaps one of the others knew the man they’d lost the woman to for the evening… but she shook her head slowly, trying to clear it once more. This time, she was able to, taking her own cup with her.

Allowing her mentor to lead the way, Nikola realized how much she’d really needed to get all this off her chest, and was relieved to feel the tension working itself out of her shoulders. But a faint blush crept in her cheeks as she put the thought of him working out her tense muscles with the tight grip he’d squeezed her with, in reasurance. That was… probably more close then he’d be comfortable with. Though it surprised Nikola that she had such a thought. She poured herself another glass of mint water and drank it slowly, before re-attaching her belt and turning back to face him, feeling much more focused, with the previous thoughts pushed from her mind.

“Ready to begin?” she asked, smiling once more.

[end]