i.

"I'm going to kill you."

Halfway through tugging off her kefta, Alina paused, glancing over her shoulder. Genya was standing in her doorway, looking like - well, like she was about to kill her. That had to be some kind of record. Alina had only been back in the Little Palace for maybe an hour.

"I sent a servant to ask if you were in your rooms," she protested. "They told me you weren't there."

"Not because of that."

Quick, efficient hands tugged at her clothes. Alina thought about protesting, but the words died on her lips. There was no stopping Genya when she was in one of her moods; it would be easier on everyone if she just let the older girl have her way. Dutifully, she turned as directed, raising her arms and lowering them until the kefta was off and she was standing there in breeches and an undershirt.

"I can take the pants off myself," she warned her friend, seeing Genya's fingers twitch. That earned her another scowl.

"Show me the scar."

...Ah. It was a little beyond belief, now that she thought of it, but in the excitement of coming home and everything that had happened before that, Alina had forgotten that she'd been shot.

That was probably terrible. She wasn't going to share that one with Genya.

"It's minimal. The Healers took care of it."

The look she got for her trouble probably could have poisoned a lesser Grisha; as it was, Alina sighed and tugged her sleeve aside, baring her shoulder to the other girl's inspection.

"See? It's perfectly fine."

'Perfectly fine' was a tiny starburst of scar tissue, the new, pink skin barely discernable from her usual complexion. But Genya was frowning. "Why is it even still there? The Healers should have been able to deal with this last part, easily."

Keeping herself from wincing was difficult, but she managed it. Having forgotten - briefly - about the whole event, she'd also forgotten to muse on the fact that she knew very well the Healers should have erased any physical sign that it had even happened. There was only person who could - who would - order them to leave a reminder.

She couldn't share that with Genya. She couldn't share more than the bare bones of how she'd gotten shot, the account that everyone else knew and believed. Not out of a need to protect the Darkling, but to protect Genya.

The other girl bore her situation by believing in the Darkling. She believed in a man who made necessary, harsh decisions in order to pave the way for a better world. But Alina did not know if she believed in a man who would have men killed for the sake of testing his protege, who considered a scar an appropriate reward for passing.

She wasn't willing to risk whatever ground her friend had gotten underneath her in the past few years, not for the sake of comfort she wasn't even sure she needed. Honestly, the most disquieting part of the whole situation was that Alina did believe in a man who did those things.

She appreciated him, even, because he did them for her.

A pair of delicate fingers snapped in front of her face, making her jump.

"There you are," Genya puffed impatiently, but there was real concern in that golden gaze. Alina smiled reflexively. "I was standing here like an idiot, calling your name."

"I suppose I should consider myself lucky you didn't hit me." She let her sleeve fall back into place, but those fingers snapped out again, this time holding it in place. "What are you doing?"

"Getting rid of this, obviously. What's the point in having a Tailor as a best friend, if not to get rid of unsightly blemishes?"

"Thanks, Genya." Her tone was dry, but her hands remained gentle as she pushed the fingers away. "But it's fine. I want to keep it."

The look that overcame her friend's face then could only be described as pure disgust. "You have been spending too much time around Corporalki."

Alina seized that thread of conversation like a lifeline. "Actually."

Genya's perfectly plucked eyebrows crawled their way up her forehead. "There is no positive ending to that sentence, Alina."

"You aren't allowed to say that, when you've been taunting me about Ivan since forever!"

That only resulted in a triumphant yell from Genya, and it was all Alina could do to find a more comfortable shirt before her friend dragged her over to the bed to demand all the details. As she explained just how good Ivan looked up close without his shirt on, she could feel her concerns about the other details she couldn't share slowly slipping away.

There were different levels of private. Most of those, she didn't mind sharing with Genya. The rest remained between her and the Darkling.

ii.

Alina couldn't sleep.

As camp beds went, hers had been perfectly comfortable. But it was nothing compared to the opulence of the mattress in her Little Palace quarters, and no matter how she tossed and turned, she couldn't seem to find a satisfying position.

That, and her mind was running a million miles a minute. On the road, everything had been so in the moment. She hadn't even been back home for twenty four hours before the lazy pace of the Little Palace had cast its net over her, reminding her that she had time to think now.

She had been shot. She had gotten shirtless with a boy. She had killed people. She had let the Darkling undo her hair. She had summoned like she had never summoned in her life, and yet...

It's not enough, a voice in her head whispered. It sounded suspiciously like Baghra.

Sighing irritably, Alina threw back her covers, padding through her rooms to the exit. The oprichniki leapt to attention, and she pretended not to notice one of them peeling away into the shadows as she continued down the hall.

For a moment, her attention was drawn to the Darkling's door. The idea of him sleeping was somehow ludicrous, even though she knew he had to. He wasn't inhuman. Just very close to it. But the idea of going to him because she couldn't sleep was even more ridiculous, so she passed the door with only the smallest of hesitations.

She wasn't eight years old anymore. She could see to her own sleeping habits.

Or lack thereof, because the door she ended up in front of was Ivan's, and even she couldn't convince herself that she had just come there because he was more likely to have a comfortable bed. For once, she actually did knock. Some things, that were more likely to happen in the privacy of one's bed at night, she wasn't quite ready to walk in on.

Except she didn't get any response. Ivan was not a deep sleeper - none of the Darkling's Grisha were, like they all had one ear ready to hear if he needed them. Alina stepped back, giving the door a once over, and it was then that she noticed the crack of light seeping from underneath it. Not natural light obviously, which was why she hadn't sensed it. Frowning deeper, she twisted the handle and creaked the door open as quietly as she could.

She needn't have bothered. Ivan was clearly awake, his silhouette bent over his desk in the flickering light of an oil lamp. He didn't even look up when she approached, and something about that and the tense lines of his body had Alina keeping her mouth shut, at least until she could figure out just what had happened.

Coming around the side of his desk, she could see that his hands were curled into fists, the knuckles white. His hair was a mess, like those fist has been dragged through it at some point, but his face was totally clear as he stared sightlessly down at a sheet of paper in front of him.

No, not clear. Blank. A frisson of fear lanced through her, because Ivan had been a lot of things in the time she had known him, but this eerie stillness that still hinted at an awful violence was not something she had ever encountered. She didn't fear for herself, obviously, but for him? What had happened to induce this in him?

She wasn't even sure if he had registered that she was there. Confident that he'd stop her if he didn't want the contents known, Alina carefully plucked the letter from in front of him. Her heart plummeted to her stomach the second she saw the seal of the First Army, cracked so roughly that the page underneath had torn as well.

There was only one reason the First Army would be writing to Ivan, and he had known that when he opened the letter. Alina forced herself to read the thing anyway, taking in each word. Unexpected raid. You brother Dmitri. Died a hero. Defending Ravka. Our deepest condolences. Instinctively, she sought out the date and felt her stomach fall even further.

While they had been celebrating their victory, Ivan's brother had been dead or dying. Alina thought of the boy who hadn't wanted to be a soldier, but had made the best of it anyway. The boy who had wanted to be a Grisha like his older brother, who had asked her to stop sending him gifts because it made the other soldiers jealous. The boy who had lost so much, who had been forced to give up one last, awful time.

"Ivan…" It was only after she had rested a light hand on his shoulder that she realised she had no idea how to finish that sentence. She had never been good at this, and it occurred to her then that she wasn't even sure how many times she had done this before. Was this the third? Or the fourth?

She had never been so glad to be an orphan. She curled her free hand under his chin, tipping his head up to her face.

"What can I do?" she murmured. "I want to help, how can I help?"

The tension in his shoulders vibrated under her hand, and she watched as the blankness drained away into something harsh and ugly and ruined. He said nothing, but when his mouth crashed into hers she met him measure for measure. Her gentle touch became a clawed fist in his shirt, the one on his face curling around to the back of his neck so she could grip him harder. Those heavy hands pulled at her waist, and she slung one leg over his until she was straddling him, pressing as close to him as she could manage without crawling inside his chest cavity.

Her grief was nothing in comparison to his. She let it drown them both.

iii.

Alina woke the next morning tangled up in Ivan and feeling like she hadn't slept at all.

"I could get used to waking up like this," Ivan murmured into her hair, and the lack of anything like pain in his voice had her sitting up, staring down at him. Unlike her, he was shirtless, and she could see the path of destruction she'd wreaked on his skin in the effort to transmute his pain into something - anything - else.

Red from her fingers, purple from her mouth. Nothing had happened below the waist, but she thought that if it had been any other situation, or even if Dmitri had died after they'd started sleeping together, it might have. Would have.

The thought didn't make her nervous, didn't make her guilty. She wasn't sure what it made her, wasn't sure how to feel about much of anything when Ivan was looking at her like the last remnant of his family hadn't just been decimated.

"I haven't breathed on you yet," she pointed out slowly, cautiously. "You might change your mind."

He pushed himself up onto his elbow and kissed her. Unlike the night before, it was softly, carefully. Almost apologetic. One of those big hands curled around her waist, pressing flat against the small of her back. If she couldn't see that letter lying crumpled on the floor where she'd dropped it, she might have thought the night before had been a dream in the face of his lazy gentleness.

"I don't think so."

The sharp knock at the door broke off any further exploration of the situation. Alina frowned, pretending not to notice the black look that flickered across Ivan's face as she twisted in the bed.

"What is Genya doing here?"

"You recognise that girl's knock?"

"Surprisingly. She doesn't usually knock, these days." She returned Ivan's hands to him and untangled herself, walking the short distance to the door herself.

"I was hoping you wouldn't be here," Genya sighed. She looked as flawless as ever, and Alina became painfully aware of her own unkempt state. She reached up to her hair self-consciously, but Genya was already smoothing her fingers down the strands. With each pass of her hand, the dark mess coiled into its usual smooth waves.

"Hello to you, too."

"Is there a problem?" Ivan's voice rumbled as he took his place behind Alina. She couldn't see his face, but she knew he was frowning.

Genya's gaze swept coolly over the sight of him, and Alina just knew she was taking in every single mark on him. She refused to blush, not when the awful reason for it was still hovering just out of reach - no matter how determined Ivan seemed to be to ignore it in the light of day.

"The Darkling requires the Sun Summoner's presence," Genya informed him. "There won't be a problem, so long as no one makes a fuss."

She didn't see it, but it wasn't too hard to imagine Ivan baring his teeth at the beautiful girl. Genya merely sniffed, and Alina decided that was enough of a pissing contest for one morning. She twisted, leaning up to press a kiss to Ivan's stubbled cheek. Up close like this, he looked about as well rested as she felt, and she felt a twinge of anxiety for him.

"I'll come back as soon as I'm done," she promised.

"Don't rush on my account."

With those uneasy last words, she followed Genya down the hall. The one time she turned to look back, she was met only with the solid wood of a closed door.

"Were those bite marks, Alina Starkov?"

Now the flush came. "His brother died."

Genya's step faltered only slightly. "Oh." For a moment, the only sound between them was their footsteps. "Are you sure that's the best way to deal with this situation?"

"I didn't have sex with him, if that's what you mean."

"It wasn't really." Almost unconsciously, Genya reached up to finger one of her sapphire earrings. "Just...you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with just because he's sad, all right? It's not your job to make him feel better, period, but it's especially not your job to make him feel better in that way."

Don't be ridiculous, she wanted to snap, but managed to hold her tongue just in time. Genya, of all people, was not being ridiculous. She was being concerned, and after taking a moment to get over her gut reaction, Alina could admit that it was rightfully so. Quietly, she reached out to thread her fingers through the older girl's, squeezing tightly.

"I promise, anything that happened last night, I wanted all of it. Even if it was emotionally heavy, it wasn't bad. I mean - Saints, Dmitri is dead, it was awful. But it wasn't-"

"It's all right." Genya squeezed her hand back, offering her a smile. "I understood what you meant. I just wanted to make sure you knew you could say no, that's all. And if he, or anyone else, ever doesn't listen? You burn them to a crisp. Or if you don't feel up to that, you come to me, and I'll poison them for you."

Her voice was fierce. Alina's hand clenched around hers even harder for a second, before she abruptly relaxed it. Somewhere in the back of her mind, in the place where she kept all the information she was better off not talking about, a light of her own understanding flickered to life.

"I love you, Genya," she said after a moment, her voice soft, but no less fierce.

"I love you too, Alina."

Alina waited for the joke, the lighthearted comment from Genya that would divert the subject. But the words sat between them until Genya was able to deliver her to the Darkling's door. The older girl kissed her cheek and told her she'd see her in her rooms, and then she was gone.

It was only after Alina had curled her fingers around the golden handle and pushed open the door that she realised she had forgotten to ask just what the Darkling wanted her for.

iv.

"It's nearly lunch time."

Alina suppressed a sigh, even as she mentally thanked Genya for doing her hair. She might have still been in her nightwear, but at least she didn't look like a total mess.

"I don't have lessons, and you never said you wanted to meet with me. Sleeping in hasn't been made illegal between now and last night, has it?"

The Darkling was leaning against the doorframe leading into his bedroom, fully dressed in a fancier kefta than usual. Not formally impressive, but definitely with more gold embroidery present. She had seen him in that kind of get up before, and something cold and thick slipped own her throat to settle in her stomach.

"If you were sleeping in, it was not in your own rooms."

Don't blush. Do not blush. Don't you dare blush. "I couldn't sleep. I went to a friend's room, and then it turned out he needed my help. Not that I have to explain any of this to you."

His gaze flickered slightly then, only for the barest of seconds. But Alina realised, with no small amount of horror, that he had been looking at her collarbone. The night had been a blur of grief and sensation, but she could still remember Ivan's teeth there. Why hadn't she gotten Genya to heal that before she came in here, why?

"You're right," he said after a long pause. "You don't have to explain. It has been some time since we were in the safety of the Little Palace, however. I was...concerned."

"The only danger out of the Little Palace came from you," Alina shot back, and immediately regretted it. The dark look that swept his features was the kind of expression that would have had anyone else throwing themselves prostrate on the floor.

"Alina."

But she was the Sun Summoner. She could handle it. She could. "You can't blame me," she said, and was proud of the way her voice shook only a little, "for not necessarily trusting your concern, when it always comes with a hidden price tag.

He was still. And Saints, she hated it when he was still, when he kept even the faintest trace of his thoughts away from her. At times, Alina had felt quite pleased with herself for being one of the few people in the world who could read him. And then moments like this came, and she was reminded that she didn't know him at all.

"No one else dares speak to me the way you do," he said finally, his tone almost conversational.

"Baghra does."

"Baghra is a special case."

"Then so am I." Alina lifted her chin. "You didn't really call me in here to take me to task about not being in my rooms, did you?"

He regarded her for a further moment. Alina kept her chin up - she knew this trick, knew it was one of the many ways he made his followers uncomfortable, put them off balance, prompted to fill the silence with truths they otherwise might not have told. Eventually, he inclined his head.

"The king wishes to see us."

And Alina remembered the cold, sick feeling in her gut, and wished they could go back to talking about her sleeping habits.

v.

The king was angry.

Not for the first time. Alina didn't care. The king could be whatever he felt like; she had long ago promised to never look at him with anything other than the cold disdain she felt for him.

It wasn't political. It probably wasn't even all that smart. But on this matter, she wouldn't be moved. That was why she had the Darkling, after all, his ancient and tangled mind able to find a way to sooth the king, when he really wanted to. In this case, she was probably lucky that he had decided to want to.

"Do you understand what you've done, taking this - this girl out and displaying her for anyone to see? My advisors say that both the Fjerdan and Shu Han ambassadors have broken off any kind of negotiations, and Kerch is on the verge of doing the same!"

His weak chin trembled with outrage - outrage which was solely directed the Darkling. Every now and then his eyes would flicker towards Alina, and she had the deep satisfaction of seeing a man afraid. Genya had done her make up, of course, swept her hair up into elegant coils of diamond and gold. When she smiled at the king it was with lips painted a deep, violent red.

She had never told Genya to make her terrifying, but her friend didn't need to be told. It was so much better, now that she had proven her power. Now that the king knew she wasn't a threat, but a promise. Alina revelled in it, as she revelled in that quiet light of knowledge that had flickered to life in the back of her mind that morning.

"I understand that I have shown the Ravkan people what hope looks like," the Darkling said softly. Which is more than the First Army has done in decades didn't need to be said, judging by the purple tone the king's face took on. "Your Majesty has charged me with defending the borders, and they have been defended."

"You have incited further violence! If we were adequately prepared to meet that violence, then I would understand why, but you have given no indication that you are ready to - finally, I might add - deploy this new weapon of yours."

"Alina is a Grisha, your Majesty." The Darkling's voice was silky smooth, but the king didn't appear to recognise the danger. His ego probably got in the way. "Her power must be coaxed and trained like any other member of the Second Army. Whatever bluster the ambassadors are blowing about, it is just that. Neither Fjerda nor Shu Han have taken leave of their senses enough that they would consider taking on me."

The king sneered. It was the very opposite of regal, but Alina had learnt over the years that the king tended to think that everything he did was regal anyway, simply because he was the king. "You of all people know that fear pushes people to do things that aren't the least bit sensible. I won't risk either nation devoting their full force of their army to Ravka, not unless you can assure me that your girl is ready to step up and take a position alongside you. Can your girl route an army, Darkling?"

"My name," Alina said, and her voice was as soft as the Darkling's had been, "is Alina Starkov, your Majesty. The Sun Summoner."

Out of the king's sight, a warning tendril of shadow wrapped around her ankle. Alina ignored it. She was in that frame of mind, between the Darkling's attitude, and Genya, and Ivan, and poor, poor Dmitri. She would play politics if she needed to, but she wasn't going to stand for being called girl as though she wasn't even in the room.

The king made a sound like he was about to have a seizure. "I know what your name is!"

Then use it, she wanted to say, but held her tongue. She knew her limits with this man, even if all she really wanted to do was shove a fistful of light down his throat.

"She cannot."

For a moment, Alina thought she had misheard. Her ice princess pose forgotten, she whipped her head around to stare at the Darkling.

Honestly, she had doubts about her ability to do that herself, but she was well aware of the Darkling's skill at dissembling. Tell the king one thing, put her up as a figurehead in some way or another until she really was ready to join him - anything to avoid letting the king think he'd won. And yet here he was, admitting that the greasy beast of a man was right. And throwing her to the wolves in the process.

"As I thought. In which case, I want her kept away from the borders until she can truly prove herself." He had reverted to avoiding her gaze, putting all of his focus on his pet Grisha now. "Put her to work on the Unsea where she should be, or something. Whatever it is you need to do to make Alina better than she is now, do it."

The Darkling's face was again completely unreadable as he bowed, the shortest dip that propriety would allow. "Moi tsar," he said, in toneless agreement. The shadow wrapped around Alina's ankle tugged again, and it took all of her concentrated energy to smooth out her own features and echo his bow. The king finally managed to find his dignity, and the nod he gave them both was actually halfway regal this time.

But Alina didn't care about that. All thoughts of outrage and disgust at the pathetic excuse for a monarch had dissipated in the wake of the utter sense of betrayal that had overtaken her. It was all she could do to keep it inside as she listlessly followed the Darkling, all the way back to his quarters, into his private room.

The door clicked shut behind them.

"Alina," he said softly. His fingers curled under her chin, tipping her face up. "Look at me."

She did. And then she punched him in the shoulder.

Hi everyone, I hope you all had a great holiday season! Thank you again for reading and reviewing - here are a couple of responses to the anons who had questions c:

- Nikolai will be in further chapters!

- We won't be able to see the scenes of Alina ignoring the Darkling because of Genya in this particular fic, but i might do some one shots of those scenes at some point in the future.

- Who Alina ends up with in the end is a spoiler, but i promise there will definitely be enough of both Alarkling and Malina to go around for everyone. And Alivan. Because idk how this happened, but Alivan is a thing now. Alina for everyone!