i.
Alina was thirteen when she finally figured it out.
Summer had come and gone, taking the Darkling with it on campaign. Her lessons in her own ability had reverted to Baghra, who had acted like a thing possessed with the way she pushed her.
"More," the woman demanded, not even trying to hit her with her stick. That, perhaps, was the most distressing part. "More, Alina."
She wasn't entirely sure when Baghra had transitioned to using her name instead of just girl, but she decided that she liked it. Even if she was spread out on the ground, panting with exertion and drenched in sweat.
"Does it look," she gasped, passing her forearm over her eyes, "like anything more is going to happen this evening?"
Alina had lit up the palace grounds, her light searching out each and every crack and crevice, dispelling any and all hints of darkness. There would, tomorrow, be a litany of complaints about lost beauty sleep, she was sure.
"No," Baghra said, and there was the strangest note in her voice. If Alina didn't know the woman was too hard for sentiment, she would have said it sounded a little like despair. "It does not."
Old anxieties pricked at Alina, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position, blowing a wet lock of hair off her face. "Is that really a problem? I'm - I'm learning offensive skills. My power's grown massively. Remember when I could only light up the lake?"
Baghra sneered. Alina had no idea how old the woman was, but the expression made her strange face carry every single one of her innumerable years.
"Just how big do you suppose the Shadowfold is?"
ii.
Bigger than the palace grounds, that much Alina could guess.
"Would you stop pacing? You're making me dizzy."
Startled at the edge in Genya's voice, Alina stumbled to a halt. "You're sounding cheerful."
Her beautiful friend was picking at her white sleeve, where a thread had come loose. That in and of itself was unsettling; Genya was usually nothing less than perfectly put together.
"I'm not required to have a sunny disposition all the time, you know."
That was definitely a snap. Alina set both of her hands on her hips as she swivelled to look at the other girl properly. Genya didn't give her the same courtesy, scowling out the window.
"I don't think I've ever demanded you be any particular mood at all for me," Alina pointed out. "Definitely not sunny. Your fake smiles are terrifying."
"My fake smiles are perfect," Genya mumbled.
"Maybe to people who haven't spent most of the last five years with you." She was starting to get more than a little worried now, but the second she made to step towards Genya, her entire form stiffened. Whatever she was looking for, comfort wasn't it. "Are you ever going to tell me what's bothering you? It's not something I've done, is it?"
There was a long silence. Alina tried not to sigh as she watched Genya's shoulders loosen, one at a time, as though she were slowly coaxing her body to return to a relaxed state. She loved the other girl like a sister, but her refusal - or inability - to talk about the things that bothered her was one of the most frustrating traits Alina had ever encountered. And that included Zoya's entire personality.
"It's nothing you've done, Alina. And nothing you can fix."
"I'm the Sun Summoner. You could at least let me try."
A soft chuckle did nothing to ease her uncertainty, or her irritation. "Have I ever mentioned how much I love it when you get up on your Sun Summoner high horse? It's almost enough to make me believe you can do anything."
Just how big do you think the Shadowfold is?
"Almost?"
The smile Genya gave her looked completely genuine, and meant nothing. "Even you can't do everything on your own, Alina."
Alina felt her face twist at that, involuntarily. Real concern flickered across Genya's, but Alina waved it away. She might not have been as smooth about it, but two could still play at the secrets game.
They sat in silence for a time, each unsatisfied with the response they had gotten from the other. Alina looked around her beautiful, sumptuous room, and realised it had been a long time since she had seen Genya's.
"You never asked." At Alina's questioning look, Genya tucked a lock of hair perfectly back into place and refused to meet her eyes. "Why I dress like a servant. I know the subject must have come up, but you've never let anyone gossip to you about it. And you kept your promise, not to make me prove anything to you."
It hadn't been hard, doing any of that. And Alina was uncomfortably aware that her reasons weren't entirely altruistic. As time had passed, she'd just sort of - forgotten. People treated Genya with respect, even when Alina wasn't there - no one wanted word to get back to her, after all. Satisfied that her friend was being treated as she ought to be, Alina had let the matter slip from her mind as unimportant.
She was starting to get the impression that that might have been a mistake.
"You didn't seem to want to talk about it," Alina said, which was true. The lilt to Genya's lips said that she knew there was more to it, but mercifully, she didn't bring it up.
"I don't. And the last thing I want is for you to worry about me, all right? Everything is going to be fine."
"Didn't you say things were going to change?"
"Can't they change and be fine, too?"
Not with the way you've been acting for the past few month. Alina rolled that thought over in her mind.
"Is it graduation?" she blurted. "You're almost done, right? Is something going to happen after that?"
Without meaning to, her gaze dropped, taking in the white robe Genya wore so well. But however good it looked, it didn't change what it symbolised, anymore than Alina's own collection of black did.
But what would be the point of making a loyal and powerful Grisha a servant? It didn't make any sense. And Genya was powerful, even if someone like Zoya, or even Ivan, wouldn't think so.
"I certainly hope things happen after it," Genya said airily, and Alina bit back a scream. The moment had escaped her again, and her friend was doing her best impression of a brick wall.
iii.
It was only later, after everything was all said and done, that it occurred to Alina that Genya had been trying to keep her safe in some small way.
Alina had a legion of guards to see to her physical safety. She was certain at this point that at least one person followed her every time she stepped foot outside of her rooms. The safety of her mind, however, had been left to the Darkling.
Hindsight was a beautiful thing. It became all too clear, later, why Genya might have sought to keep certain information from Alina, even as she struggled along on her own.
But only later.
iv.
Genya's room was empty.
Alina frowned, feeling the vague stirrings of deja vu. She remembered being eight years old, staring at a similar room stripped bare, probably with the exact same look of consternation on her face. Didn't you used to have - well, things?
"She moved."
Zoya's voice behind her was strangely devoid of any particular tone. Usually, the older girl was some variation of smug, or angry. And oh, could she manage variation on those two emotions. But when Alina swung around to glare at her, she was faced with impassiveness, Zoya's arms crossed solidly over her chest.
"What do you mean, she moved? She would have told me."
"You think I'm in a position to comment on whatever goes on between the two of you?" There was the irritation, at least. Zoya's attempt to curb her temper out of deference to the Sun Summoner's dignity always fell flat. "I'm just telling you what happened. She moved. Or was moved, more specifically."
Alina took her own temper by the throat and strangled it. Getting mad back would only satisfy Zoya's need to prove that she could get under her skin. "To the Little Palace?"
Blue eyes glittered strangely as Zoya lifted her chin. Her expression remain unreadable, and for the first time, Alina found herself itching to know what it was that Zoya was thinking The other girl was usually so forthright with her opinions.
"No, Sun Summoner." There was the faintest edge to her title, as though Zoya was trying to make a point. "To the Grand Palace. The Darkling gave her to the Queen."
v.
Alina had never realised just how short her legs were before.
Which was strange. She could remember countless evenings perched on the edge of a chair, killing her legs in empty air, scuffing them along the floor in later evenings. One would have thought that so much time spent being unable to have her feet firmly on the ground would have made her aware of her lack of height.
One would have thought that those evenings spent alone with the Darkling would have made her realise a lot of things.
Her breath rattled in her chest, drowning out any sounds of shock or confusion that might have happened as she raced through the Grand Palace. She wasn't even sure how she'd gotten there, to be honest, how her short legs had carried her through the trees, along the paths to this unfamiliar place.
Genya. The name pounded in her head in time with her feet slapping the ground. Every hallway in the Grand Palace was austere, alien, nothing like the beautiful warmth of the Little Palace, and Alina hated it on principal. In that moment, she hated everything on principal. Including the Darkling.
Including herself.
Her oprichniki kept pace with her easily. By contrast, their steps were silent, spitting out no names at all. Sun Summoner, they said instead, once she had crashed her way through ten or twelve rooms. If you tell us what you are looking for, perhaps we can help?
"Genya," she gasped. "I need to find Genya."
"You want to find Genya." The rasping voice was so completely unexpected that it stopped her in her tracks, where guards and strange looks and muttering voices had been unable to. "How many times do I have to tell you, girl? They're two different things."
Alina's heart hammered against the walls of her chest, replacing the sound of her feet. Baghra's voice overrode it anyway, as did the tap of her cane on the floor.
The strange part wasn't that she looked out of place in the cold extravagance of the Grand Palace. The strange part was that she looked like it was exactly where she belonged, the strange, dark beauty of her fitting in right next to the gold and the jewels and everything else.
"What-?" Alina managed finally, uncomprehending.
Baghra snorted, nodding at her hands. "You're leaking, girl. Scared enough people to send a runner to me."
It took a moment for the words to make sense - there was a lag on everything in that moment, as though every bit of information had to push itself through a haze of confusion before it could settle in her mind. The Darkling gave her to the Queen.
Alina glanced down at her hands. They glowed, the weak haze echoing whatever was stuffing her brain. "Oh," she said faintly, and clenched her fingers one by one. The light winked out, and she couldn't help but think how fitting that was.
"Come." It wasn't a request. "This isn't the place for such foolishness. The otkazat'sya don't need to see you weak."
I'm not weak, she wanted to snap, but the words rolled around on her tongue until she swallowed them down again. Meekly, she followed Baghra out of the Grand Palace, past the hedge maze, the temple, the lawns, through the trees until they reached Baghra's hut.
The oprichniki melted away at some point. Alina couldn't decide if she appreciated that, or hated it. It was only an illusion of solitude, after all. They were always there, by order of the Darkling.
"Sit." Baghra pointed imperiously at Alina's usual spot on the floor.
Alina stood.
"He gave Genya to the Queen."
Baghra didn't say anything, didn't even look up to indicate that she'd heard. Alina's fists balled tighter.
"I said-"
"I heard what you said," the woman snapped, easing her body back into her chair. It occurred to Alina that she'd seen her out of it less than she'd seen her in it, and never off the Little Palace grounds.
Not that Alina ever ventured off the Little Palace grounds that often.
"How was I supposed to know that? You didn't exactly do anything to show you'd heard."
"I was trying to decide the best way to tell you that you're an idiot." Baghra's grey eyes reflected the firelight, her expression unreadable. It reminded her, she realised, of Zoya's face not that long ago. "What did you think she was being prepared for? You can't tell me you didn't know she wore servant's colours."
"Of course I knew! But I thought - I thought-"
Baghra cackled, but there was no humour in the sound. "Don't strain yourself, we both know you didn't think about it at all. You accepted it, like a good little Grisha, and didn't question it any further. And now what's done cannot be undone. There's no taking back a gift from a Queen."
"She's not a gift," Alina spat, and the light in the room jumped.
"She is what the Darkling wants her to be."
"She's not! She's my friend, not someone you can just pass off as a present to someone who doesn't even deserve her! What does the Queen need with a Grisha?"
"Not a Grisha, girl, a Tailor." Dry amusement twisted the woman's voice into something ugly. "Our Queen doesn't possess the kind of power that smoothes away wrinkles. This is something that's been in the works for years. You could have asked about it whenever you wanted, but you decided it wasn't important. Can't really blame you. You're just as much what he wants you to be as the rest of us."
The urge to hit something shot through her arms, and she dug her nails into her palms hard enough that the pain made her suck in a breath.
"I'm not," she said, voice low and quiet. "I'm just me. I'm the Sun Summoner-"
"A name he gave you."
"I'm Alina, then!" she cried. Frustrated tears threatened, but she forced them back, down again. She wasn't a baby any more, and this wasn't a problem she could make better with tears. "There has to be something I can do. He'll listen to me, won't he? I'm supposed to be important to him."
It took a long moment for Alina to recognise the emotion playing in the strange shadows of Baghra's face. She'd never seen the woman wear pity before, and it sat awkwardly on her.
"There's not a person alive who can tell that boy what to do, Alina."
But she shook her head, her hair brushing her shoulders as she did so. The curls that Genya had given her were completely gone by this point, only a soft wave remaining.
"I'll make him listen," she swore. "You'll see."
She left, not long after. It turned out that Baghra didn't have anything to say to that.
vi.
It was winter before the Darkling returned.
She saw Genya twice within that time. If Alina closed her eyes, she could remember the older girl's warm sigh, the hand on her cheek. You little idiot. The tale of her rampage through the halls of the Winter Palace had spread, apparently.
Alina found she didn't care. Rumours that the king himself was displeased with her behaviour filtered down to her, and Alina didn't give a damn. It turned out that with the Darkling gone, there was no one with the power to actually discipline her. She would have listened to Baghra, perhaps, but Saints only knew that Baghra didn't care enough to bother.
"It's not so bad," Genya reassured her, that first time. "The Queen appreciates my services, and it is nice to be able to talk about clothes and hair with someone who thinks they're important."
"I think they're important!" Alina had protested. It had made Genya laugh, at least.
"Not like this, Sun Summoner. You have bigger things to worry about."
Like you, Alina had thought, but didn't say. If Genya had found some tenuous sort of peace with herself and what had happened, Alina didn't want to shatter it, even if she seethed internally with guilt and the unfairness of it all. She might even have let it sit, if it hadn't been for the second time she'd seen her.
It hadn't even been to visit. Alina had gone to one of the workrooms to find David - the material of her gloves was starting to wear through. But the first thing she'd seen when she'd stepped through the door was Genya, sitting silently on a stool near the doorway.
She looked stunning. Her hair was twisted up in an intricate knot, a few loose tendrils escaping to grace her slender neck. The white and gold of her clothes fell perfectly off every curve. As she jumped in quiet shock, the light caught her heavy diamond earrings as they swung.
"Genya?" Alina shut the door behind her, approaching slowly. "This is a little overdone for the Durasts, don't you think?"
"Oh," Genya said, and her rich voice was warm and sweet. She didn't look at Alina. "You know. Sometimes you just feel like dressing up."
Absently, she toyed with one of the earrings. Alina had never seen them before.
"Of course," she said slowly, wondering if she should reach out for the other girl, put an arm around her shoulders or something. Genya was staring steadfastly at nothing in particular. "Did the Queen give you those? The earrings?"
Genya tugged her hand away as though she'd been burnt. "Excuse me, darling," she murmured. Her stool scraped uncomfortably along the floor as she stood, and swept towards the door. "There's work I should be getting back to."
And before Alina could question her further, she was gone.
vii.
She didn't knock.
The oprichniki have instructions to let her do what she wants anyway, and although they both looked extremely uncomfortable about it, neither one of them stopped her from pushing open the heavy double doors.
She'd picked her dress carefully, and her heart had ached for Genya as she did it. She heard her friend's voice in her head as she picked through her wardrobe, guiding her choices for the effect she wanted to achieve.
She almost, almost went to find something that wasn't black. But that was where her anger hit the wall of her affection, and she couldn't do it. Alina was mad, yes, but she didn't hate the Darkling. She wasn't about to reject him, or anything he'd done for her.
Instead, she picked out the closest thing to a real kefta that she own, embroidered in gold. Once satisfied that she didn't look like a child playing dress up, she had crossed the hall to the Darkling's rooms.
Every head in the room snapped up when she entered, even his. Before he could speak, though, she was pointing at the door.
"Out."
Alina had spent five years watching the Darkling. She hadn't seen him at his worst, but she had made up for that by seeing more of him than anyone else. So when she spoke - when she gave her order - it wasn't hard to infuse it with the same authority and expectation of being obeyed that the Darkling did.
She might have only been thirteen, but half of the Grisha in the room were on their feet before any of them thought to look at him for permission.
There was a moment of complete silence, as the Darkling let them sweat it out. And then he tilted his head slightly, indicating the door.
"You heard the Sun Summoner."
The tiniest bit of relief eased the tension in her chest, and Alina wrestled with it internally to keep it from showing externally as the Grisha filed out. Ivan was amongst them, she noted, and it was harder than it should have been to ignore his presence.
She managed it, though. She managed all of it, staying stock still and immovable until the last Grisha was gone, and the doors shut tightly behind her.
"How can I help you, solntse?"
Don't call me that, she wanted to cry, but the lesson he had given her the last time she had made that kind of protest was still bright in her mind.
"You gave," she started, and was proud of the way her voice didn't shake, "Genya away. To the Queen. Like she was a piece of property you could sign over to someone."
The way he regarded her made Alina want to hit him. Or worse. Lash out with her power until he understood the ugly, festering wound that had ulcerated her stomach. She tucked her hands behind her back, squeezing the fingers into fists.
"Yes," he said finally.
"Yes? That's it?"
The Darkling folded his hands neatly on the table in front of him, seemingly unbothered by her sudden display of temper. "We all make sacrifices. Genya has known this was coming for some time. I...would have thought you were aware of it, too."
Alina didn't flinch at the careful, casual note to his voice, the one that implied exactly what Baghra had told her outright. She had had weeks and weeks and weeks to ruminate on her own guilt already, her failure as a friend. It was that feeling that she had taken inside her, forged into weapon and armour both. It was that feeling she wielded now, and so he couldn't use it against her.
"Do we? What are you sacrificing, then? What am I sacrificing? If we all have to make them, maybe you should just hand me over to the King now! He can have me directly, instead of this farce you've set up with his wife!"
viii.
Alina had asked.
She hadn't wanted to. Moreover, she had known that Genya wouldn't have wanted her to. Genya, her best and only real friend, who had played her cards and her feelings so close to her chest for five years now because she had known this was coming. Genya, who protected herself with words and smiles and pretending that everything was just fine. Genya, who had tried so very hard to protect Alina in just the same way.
Some things, Alina didn't deserve to be protected from. And so she had asked Zoya what it meant that Genya wore diamond earrings when she had no means of acquiring them, and Zoya had told her.
Some part of Alina had noted the lack of relish in the girl's voice when she told her the gifts came from the King. Perhaps some part of Zoya had realised that her pretty face would be less pretty covered in burn scars, or perhaps there was something else going on inside that complicated skull of hers. Alina hadn't stuck around to find out.
ix.
The Darkling stood. Sudden and smooth and silent, with barely a rustle of clothing.
"You are not," and his voice was a knife, cold steel parting the air, "nor will you ever be, for the King."
Alina ignored the danger signs, brave for Genya in a way she had never been for herself. "Really? Then who have I been promised to? The Apparat, maybe, I've heard that he's gaining the King's ear. The priest with his pet Sun Summoner, that would be a tale for the ages."
His sigh washed over her. The weight of that disappointment was crushing, and she felt her rage wilt under the pressure of it. But the image of Genya jerked her hand away from her ear shored it up again, and as the Darkling's hand curled gently under her chin to tilt her head up, she set her jaw and stared him down.
"You are a child," he murmured. She clenched her teeth against the string of the rebuke, but the tears didn't come like they might have done once; she considered that a victory. "You cannot begin to imagine the depth of the game we play here, yet. You see only the pieces, and not the board."
A tremble wracked her body at the thought of what she was about to say. It took her a moment, two before she could convince herself to say it, to make her tongue form the letters.
"Don't. Touch me."
She didn't push his hand away, didn't shove at him, or even move her chin. She simply stared up at him, and waited for him to move his hand.
He almost didn't. Alina could see it in his eyes, that quartz gaze somehow clearer to her now than it had ever been. Where before she had always seen a stranger, now she recognised that it was still the Darkling peering out at her from behind that icy, inhuman stare.
It terrified her. She wanted to curl up and cry, to throw herself at him and beg his forgiveness. But none of those things would help Genya, so she stayed exactly where she was.
Eventually, the Darkling pulled his hand away.
"Perhaps I have left you without guidance for too long," he murmured.
The sneer that twisted her face was an ugly, frightened thing. "You mean because I'm disagreeing with you, don't you. Because I think what you did was sick, not necessary, I've somehow lost my way? What is wrong with you?"
Anger stole his features. Real, sudden anger that seemed to be almost as much of a surprise to him as it was to Alina. She was too shocked to be scared in the face of it, of the way it broke across his beautiful face like a wave crashing into the rocks.
"The problem is not with me. The sickness is within Ravka, and it cannot be bludgeoned out. It has to be excised, treated, healed. Genya is a soldier as much as you, or I, or any other Grisha. You are not so quick to defend her as you think. She has already been to see me, and I have already told her that if she wishes it, I will remove her from her position. She refused."
If she refused, then why did she go to see you about it in the first place? "I'm not a soldier," she reminded him hollowly. "I'm a child. If it means not sacrificing someone like Genya to someone like the King for the sake of a game, then I'll stay that way."
"For the sake of Ravka."
"I don't care about Ravka!" That was a lie, but it felt like the truth when she said it. "I care about protecting my friends. And if you cared about me at all, you'd find another piece to move on whatever board is so important here."
It was a low trick, a manipulative one, and she used it anyway because she didn't know what else she could say to make him change his mind. She didn't know how to fix this.
Baghra's pitying face came to mind. There's not a person alive who can tell that boy what to do, Alina.
She had thought she was different. She had thought he would at least listen to her, that her feelings of outrage and disgust would have some kind of impact on his decision making. But she only had to look at his face one to see just how unmoveable he truly was.
Without a further word, she turned on her heel and went to leave.
"Alina."
The name shot through her like a bolt out of the blue, rooting her to the spot. It was the first time he had ever used her name, at least that she could remember. If she thought she had stooped low, he was scraping the bottom of the barrel now. Hot rage rushed into the hollow places her shock vacated, and she whipped back around, bringing her hand down in a sharp, instictive motion.
"No!" A wave of heat billowed out from her, rushing over the Darkling. It was enough to make the air waver between them, and she thought she saw beads of sweat form on his forehead, but there was no actual damage. Alina couldn't decide if that was a problem for her or not. "I know what you're doing! You can't just use my name to tug on my feelings and make me stay. You're wrong, Darkling, and there's nothing you can say or do to change my mind."
Alina didn't know if that was true. So she left, before he could recover from her actions enough for them to find out.
Once again, thank you all so much for your beautiful reviews! Reading them is always the highlight of my day c: I would like to say though, if you have a question that you would like answered for sure, please provide me with a way of responding to you! I can't reply to anonymous reviews, and it's usually pretty late when I post these chapters - I'm often tired and forget to write notes here, haha, so you might not get an answer at all, and I would hate to leave you hanging.
That said, the main question I've gotten is if Alarkling is going to happen. It definitely will, along with Malina and potential other ships that may or may not crop up along the way, depending on how the story plays out. However, as Alina is only thirteen at this point, I'm not going to start writing the ships into the story in any big way until she's older.
Also, I should note here that I started writing this fic before I read Genya's short story. So while parts of this definitely echo what happened there, obviously some details have changed, as I had already set events in motion before I realised a Genya story even existed! I hope you can forgive me.
Anyway thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter c: