When the Great War came to an end, the country was in chaos.
In the history of Ravka, there had never been such absolute destruction. For the first time, two unique and powerful (in both government and ability) Grisha were going toe to toe, giving everything they had to battle the other. Some fought with the Sun, some with the Dark, and some fought with none, but all people suffered. The Fold was growing at a terrifying rate, and was likely to swallow Novokribirsk and Os Kervo before the next Winter Solstice. Both, of course, were ghost towns. As the war progressed, Kerch was flooded with hoards of Ravkan refugees that lived west of the Unsea.
There was not a safe place in Ravka to be found. Villages were being raided and burned to the ground, rebels were made examples of and given painful, public executions. Teenagers were being drafted into a war that, no matter what side they fought for, would end in tremendous loss. Most, if not all, of the temples and churches had been shut and abandoned, for fear of persecution from the Darkling's Army. The Grand Palace was in ruins. No matter where you went, you were met with horrible death and rot. Many were considering trying to find a way into Fjerda or the Shu Han, because even being in enemy territory would be safer than staying in Ravka. The war, despite that it had only been a year, seemed that it would be endless.
And then, one day, it all came to a screeching halt.
At the Little Palace, Alina and the Darkling stood before their people and declared an end to the bloodshed. They told the remaining Ravkan citizens (and there weren't very many) that peace had been made between them, and they were turning their efforts to a shared goal: to repair the damage left not only by themselves, but by the Lantsov Monarchy that came before them. They knew that their fight was doing nothing but harming their home, a place that they loved dearly, and that their differing views didn't compare to the one that they shared. Of course, this wasn't the whole truth, but it was what Ravka needed to hear.
In that final battle on The Fold, Alina had a choice to make. And she chose what she felt she absolutely had to choose. In a moment that was nothing less than horrible, she slipped a blade made of Grisha steel in between her best friend's ribs. David made her a ring of bone, and that third, impossible amplifier should've been enough to destroy the Fold, but for whatever reason, it wasn't. She gave every bit of light she had, and while it killed the surrounding volcra and stunned both sides of the battle, it did not destroy anything. When she came to, they were still surrounded by blinding darkness. That moment was enough for both Alina and Aleksander to realize that they had come to a stalemate. There was no where left for either of them to go. With only a single glance shared between them, there was an understanding. The battle was called off. They left the Fold. Alina and Aleksander found their common goal, which they truly did have, no matter the ways they were going about to get to it.
For centuries, the only thing the Darkling ever wanted was safety and respect for Grisha. It wasn't until he met Alina that he found there was something else he wanted, too. A companion. An equal. Someone to stand by his side. So, together, they ended the war. And that was the whole truth.
But not all was well. They could not repair the damage left by the Lantsov family when there was still a living heir to the throne. Compromises had to be made. War criminals needed to be punished. Alina, as much as she tried, could only get an official pardon for Genya Safin, who was reinstated in the Palace as an advisor and a leader. Other famous rebels such as Zoya Nazyalensky, Tamar and Tolya Yul-Bataar, Nadia Petrov, and Nikolai Lantsov were tried and found guilty, and were to be punished with execution by hanging.
On the night before the executions were meant to take place, the Grand Palace was in a state of disrepair. It had been damaged during the war, and it was far from being returned to its former glory, but Aleksander thought living there would be better for the image they were trying to portray.
So much about their connection now was image. They needed people to not only trust them, but respect them. There had never been Grisha rulers before, and Alina felt as if they were taking every step with a blindfold on. She felt that she wasn't even sure if any of this was worth it, if it was going to work.
The Darkling was good at image. Playing his part in their fragile oligarchy seemed like putting on old clothes for Aleksander, and he earned the favor of their people far faster than Alina thought he would. Then again, what she knew about the war was far different than what most Ravkans thought they knew about the war.
That night, Alina carefully made her way down to the cellar, where she knew her friends were sleeping on dirt floors, their belongings and dignity stripped from them.
She dismissed the guards when she got there. Their orders from the Darkling were to be sure that no one entered the makeshift prison, but they were frightened of Alina. They saw her as a supremely powerful Grisha, unheard of anywhere else in the world, and the leader of a vicious rebellion. She looked like a witch out of a storybook when she wandered the halls at night, her white hair seemed to almost glow in the darkness. When they thought she wasn't looking, they called her prizräk, a word that meant "ghost" in Ravkan. In different circumstances, Alina would've thought it was funny to watch the guards run off like frightened children.
She crept into the cellar, careful not to wake the prisoners. She summoned a bit of light in her palm, but only enough to see the faces of the sleeping people. Alina saw plenty of familiar faces, some of friends, and some of vague members of the rebellion, but it didn't take her long to find who she was looking for.
On the day of that last battle, Nikolai had been caught in the blast of light with the other volcra. But, unlike the others, he didn't die. It healed him. He was left with some pretty bad scars, but he was lucky the fall from twenty feet up didn't kill him. He came out of the ordeal with little damage to speak of.
When she saw him fall, she wanted to run to him. She had kept her eyes open long enough to see the monster seared off of him, the wings that had been on his back moments before turned to dust. At that moment, Alina was frozen in place. The light and the heat tore from her, and it was blinding and painful and amazing. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. When it was over, she didn't go to see her friends. For a few weeks, she wasn't even sure who made it out alive. She didn't know if Mal's body was left to rot somewhere in the Fold. The moment that she found out they had been imprisoned, she knew she was going to set her friends free. But for the rest of her life, she would know that the reason she had so quickly left the Fold with Aleksander was because she was ashamed. She knew that they wouldn't understand, that they would think she was giving up all they had fought for. There was a part of her that agreed with him.
Nikolai slept sitting up, with his head lolling against the wall. Despite the fact that he was in a dark, damp cellar, he seemed as comfortable as he would've been on a feather bed fitted with silk sheets. Alina pressed her hands around the lock and let light and heat go through her, until it fell apart where she was holding it.
"Nikolai," She whispered, kneeling beside him. "You have to wake up."
Before he could even wake up and respond, she was untying the binds around his scarred hands. When Alina looked up at him, she thought he would look startled, at least, but to her complete surprise, he was grinning at her.
"I knew you were coming. I knew you would come." He cupped her face with his freed hands.
"Of course, I was never going to-"
Nikolai interrupted. "How did you escape?"
"Escape?"
"Zoya thought you were dead, but I was sure he was keeping you locked up."
Alina had never seen this look on his face before. It was a look she saw on the faces of men and their wives during the rebellion, when they almost couldn't believe they had both come back alive. It was the look Ana Kuya got when she found an unopened bottle of kvas. It was the way Tamar and Nadia looked at each other, the way Genya and David looked at each other. The amount of unadulterated love and relief in his eyes was almost overwhelming. She had never been looked at that way before. And that expression on his face made it that much harder when Alina realized that he didn't know. None of them knew the war was over, or why it ended.
Nikolai was beaming. "We waited for you. We could've gotten out days ago, but I knew you would come. Someone from the outside will be here any minute now, he can take us-"
"I'm not his prisoner, Nikolai." She hesitated. "I can't go with you."
His sleep-addled brain took a moment to process what she was telling him, and he pulled away from her.
Alina tried to explain as best she could. "The war is over. I signed a peace treaty with the Darkling."
He shook his head. "The people won't trust him, they'll riot."
"We've already regained the trust of the people, Nikolai. I'm here to free you, and the others. But that's as far as I can go."
"He's a dictator, Alina. The Darkling will kill you if you let him." He paused. "I know I've told you that royalty never begs, but I have to make an exception here. Please leave with me."
"He won't stop until he gets what he wants, Nikolai. The Darkling needs balance, someone to keep him in control." She wiped a few stray tears from her eyes. "I'm the only one that can give him that, and I can't let any more people die in my name when I know there's a solution."
"Please come with me," He continued, taking her face in his hands again. "We'll find another way, Alina. Please leave with me tonight."
She wished she could. The only thing Alina wanted in the world at that moment was to stage a grand escape with Nikolai and all of the people she loved.
"I can't go with you." She choked out. "This is what I have to do."
Nikolai suddenly felt the burden of the small length of time they had left together, ticking away with each passing moment. It occurred to him that he may not see her again for years, if he saw her again at all. And the idea of not kissing Alina Starkov one more time, especially when she was this close to him, was more painful than anything else. He captured her mouth with his, and she kissed him back in fervent measure.
He knew time was running out, and their window of time for escaping was getting smaller and smaller. But Alina was soft and warm, and he loved her far more that he was willing to admit. When they finally pulled apart, he couldn't tear his eyes from her, afraid that he might forget the details of her face.
"I'm going to marry him, Nikolai." She whispered.
He worriedly ran his hands over his face. "Is that what you want?"
"It can't be about what I want. It's about Ravka. It always has been."
Nikolai understood. Every step she had taken since he met her was in allegiance to her country. This was what they worked for, even if it wasn't the outcome he expected. There was still a part of him that was ready to fight against the Darkling, but he knew there would be time for that. He knew they would come back, one day.
"So, how are you planning on getting everyone out of here?"
"Let's just say…" He pulled the guards' ring of keys from his pocket, a smug grin on his face. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."
"You've always been a pirate at heart, haven't you?"
"Privateer." He corrected.
Both Alina and Nikolai stood, hugging each other tightly one last time. No matter what either one felt for the other romantically, they were good friends. Alina wished him good luck, kissed him on the cheek, and turned to go.
"I'll see you again, Alina Starkov."
She turned back to look at him, and found she wasn't looking at the war scorned man that had fought by her side for the past months, but the handsome prince that was somehow both an idiot and a genius, who flirted with her just to make her angry. For a moment, they were just a boy and a girl.
"You better not, Nikolai Lantsov."
And with that, she left.
The next morning, the guards returned to escort the prisoners to their executions, only to find that most of them had disappeared. A search party was sent out to look for them, and the guards were released from their duties, lucky to escape being charged with treason. After a year of coming up with nothing, the manhunt came to an end, and it was assumed that the criminals had made it out of the country somehow. From the beginning, any news of the prisoners' escape was hidden from the Ravkan people.
Within that same year, plans for the Royal Wedding were put into motion. The church at the Little Palace was chosen for the location, and it was rebuilt in a matter of months. When Alina and Aleksander walked into it for the first time, it was unrecognizable. Everywhere they looked was dressed in glorious white and gold, made to match Alina's gown and kefta. Invitations were sent out to powerful people in allied countries, promising a safe trip across the Fold (Alina would be escorting the sand skiffs back and forth). Hundreds of nobles and merchants attended, eager to get a look at the Darkling and his Sun Saint. The only faces in the crowd that were truly familiar to Alina were Genya and David.
Alina had no living family, but on the night before her wedding, she told Genya of the bitter, old woman that had raised her, and confided in her that she would've liked to invite Ana Kuya to her wedding.
The presentation of the wedding brought Alina nostalgia for her first Winter Fete. It was hard for her to believe that fateful party had only been a little bit over a year and a half ago. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, and she was an entirely different woman than she had been back then.
When Alina walked through the doors of the cathedral, the crowd of strangers burst into applause. Her skin seemed to shine, as if she were sunshine embodied. While the priest spoke, her mind continued to wander back to her first weeks at the Little Palace, when her biggest problem was not being able to summon. She thought of the moment Aleksander dragged her to a closet and (while she struggled to understand at the time) showed her what his weakness was. She had been so naive then. Alina thought of Mal, too. Mal, who had loved her, but hadn't understood. She remembered the panic she felt when he laid dying in front of her, and felt the weight of one of his bones around her finger. Lastly, she thought of Nikolai, and her friends. Where were they? Were they safe? Were they even alive? Alina could still feel the kiss they shared like some kind of phantom limb, ghosting over her lips.
And then, as if on queue, Aleksander was kissing her. Their guests let out another burst of raucous applause, as if they were there to remind Alina that this was nothing more than a performance for the sake of her country. Even if she could find love in her heart for him.
It was not tradition for Ravkan royalty to go on honeymoons (honeymooning was really more of a custom from the Southern Colonies), but even if they had wanted one, the newly married couple did not have time to. They still spent their waking hours trying to repair the physical damage left by the war, and the financial damage left by the generations of the Lantsov Monarchy. As they worked, it was discovered that the Fold was receding a few inches every month (and Alina understood that no matter what she had done, she never would've destroyed the Fold. Aleksander was its maker).
Because of the work they were doing, the birth of the future heir wouldn't come to pass until their fifth year of marriage. Ravka, still in a fragile state, was torn on the subject of a child born of the most powerful Grisha on the planet. Peddlers began selling images of the Sol Koroleva with a baby in her arms. The unborn child was worshipped in temples and churches, but viciously hated by some. Many feared that the child, should it be born with such power, had the potential to become a vicious dictator. Riots were breaking out closer and closer to Os Alta, and the gates to the Grand Palace were closed and locked. Alina was made to spend the remaining months of her pregnancy in bed, or at least on palace grounds. But, even with all the chaos, there was more genuine happiness and intimacy between Alina and Aleksander than there had ever been. The Darkling spent every free moment he had at his wife's bedside, making sure she had all she asked for.
One morning, late in her pregnancy, they were eating breakfast together and talking, as they often did these days. Getting out of bed was becoming harder and harder for Alina, so her husband had their food brought up to their bedroom, where they sat comfortably and ate for as long as they liked.
"It's going to be a girl." Alina said matter-of-factly.
"And how do you know this?"
"It's motherly instinct." She grinned. "You wouldn't understand."
Aleksander, who was occupied with gently kissing his way up his wife's forearm, laughed at her.
"What does fatherly instinct count for as of now?"
Alina pulled her wrist away from him. "Very little, until she's out of my body. But you're still of use to me until then.."
"Is that so?"
Before she could respond, he tangled his hand in her hair and started mouthing at her neck. Alina gasped, and her eyes fluttered shut. But it didn't take long for her to come to her senses and gently slap him on the head.
"I did not say you could be a tease."
Aleksander placed another kiss up on her jaw, and smiled. "My misunderstanding, Moya Tsarita."
"I think I can forgive you."
Alina pressed her mouth against his, and relished in the way their connection electrified her blood. Something about the pregnancy (which had not been planned) made her feel safe with him. It had started to feel like they were actually married, and with every passing day, she cared for him more and more.
"Aleksander?" She said, when he pulled away.
"Hm?" A tremor went through him, and she thought of how endearing it was that he still had such a visible reaction to her saying his true name.
"I love you."
The words were a surprise, and Alina didn't even know that was the way she felt until she said it. On the day of their wedding, she had been sure that there would never be anything like love between them. Alina had stopped hating him long ago, but having a child brought out something different in him. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in him before.
"Sol Koroleva." He whispered, placing a kiss on her temple.
He didn't have to respond. Alina knew that they were both happier than they had ever been in their lives (and Aleksander had been alive for a long time).
On the night before the Winter Solstice, Alina went into labor. It had been a warm year so far, with no sign of the brutal winters that Ravka was used to, but that night, it began to snow. It was a long and painful process, that lasted until the sun began to rise the next morning. Sunlight poured through the window as Alina gave birth to a wriggling baby girl that she would name Nika. She and her husband stared in awe of the blessed thing that had come out of their scarred relationship.
As the young princess grew up, Ravka seemed to find peace. That year, there was financial prosperity, and most of the war's damage had been cleaned up and repaired. Nika was a beautiful, happy baby, and those that had feared her quickly fell in love. As per usual, there were always people that worshipped Alina and her daughter as saints. Peddlers sold their "bones" as trinkets for passing travelers, and many churches had shrines dedicated to the mother and daughter. Alina, fearing for her child's safety, rarely traveled outside of Os Alta with Nika because of this.
Despite that, the Morozovas' were a wonderful family. Nika brough out something in both Alina and Aleksander that neither knew existed. Both found solace through their new-found family in a way that they couldn't before their daughter was born. Alina could've spent hours playing make-believe with Nika and Genya in the empty halls of the palace, and nothing brought her more happiness than seeing her husband swing Nika into his arms, smiling and talking along with the child's gibberish. She thought of the Darkling that she had known as a teenager, and knew that she would've laughed at the idea of who he was now.
But not all was happy news.
As Nika's fifth birthday approached, it was decided by the triumvirate that Aleksander would act as a Grisha Examiner for Nika during a public ceremony, in order to convince Ravka that they had nothing to hide. There was a lot of talk about the nature of Nika's Grisha abilities, about whether she would be a Sun Summoner or another Darkling. Few wondered if she might be both, if the royal couple hadn't created an entirely new species of Grisha power.
For the first time since she was a teenager, Alina was having trouble trusting her husband. He hadn't actually done anything to make her feel this way, and she was brushing it off as motherly instinct. But there was a horrible anxiety that should Nika be a Sun Summoner, Aleksander would use her for his own ulterior motives, the same way he used her during the war.
When the day finally came, Alina Morozova kneeled before her daughter, kissed each of her little, chubby hands, and looked at her with what could only be described as terrible fear in her eyes.
"Nika, my baby. My love." She whispered. "Do you remember what I've told you about the Grisha?"
The girl nodded. "Yes, mama."
"Do you remember when I told you what you have inside you, baby? That you might be a very special Grisha?"
"Yes, mama."
"Well, mama doesn't know what is gonna happen today. But I need you to listen to me very closely, okay?"
Nika just stared at her, wide-eyed and confused. She had never seen her mother look so vulnerable and afraid.
"When you're in front of all those people today, you might feel a light calling to you. It will be warm, and comforting, but you can't reach for it. You have to call on the dark, Nika. You have to embrace the dark, instead of the light."
There was a moment of silence before Alina pleaded with her. "I need you to promise me you'll do that, baby."
The young princess did not understand, but she promised her mother, afraid of getting in trouble. And that day, when Nika stood before a crowd, and her father gripped her wrist, the room flooded with pitch darkness.
And in that dark, in the comforting familiarity of it, Alina was no longer the Queen. She wasn't Alina Morozova, or Sankta Alina, or the twenty-eight year old that married a man that had once been her enemy when she was little more than a teenager. For a moment, she was just Alina Starkov, overcome with relief.
