cold
She woke to silence. She hadn't been sleeping well lately. It wasn't nightmares that kept her awake. Her imagination had run dry off all possible scenarios in the first two years after the war. Scars had healed, the visible ones. She had mourned her dead, even Mal's dead corpse had stopped haunting her. Mal who had been unexpectedly slain by Fjerdan brutes. Hacked to death, it was a miracle they found all pieces. Barefoot she had run not minding the harsh slap of the stone floors when the news had arrived. Bursting into the room like thunder, Nikolai's vice grip around her waist had been not enough to stay her eyes from the harrowing sight. Her wail, an animalistic cry shredding the air before she collapsed against him as he continued to hold her tightly and helplessly.
There had been void in her heart when the grief was still fresh. Her mind equally empty she had walked the corridors, a ghostly vision with open eyes but unseeing. Maybe that's why she had agreed to the conditions set without batting an eye lid, hadn't really cared to think of the consequences or the magnitude of what she was signing up for, too exhausted from the death of a childhood sweetheart, from the constant battles in her heart and in the field, the bloodshed, pain and loss.
They had stood around the war table in a tent pitched up north near the border and negotiated terms, the cold wind blowing outside barely kept at bay by the blazing fire.
When the black eyed General had dispassionately stated his terms, Nikolai had turned to the Sun Summoner. We don't have to do this; I will find another way, his eyes said. She had just nodded her head and squeezed his hand underneath the table. It's okay.
Nikolai had not protested once he'd seen her acquiescence, too tired of watching his people die on all fronts. They were being attacked from all sides, and if the only one who could have a remote chance of leading their armies to victory was the devil, then they were willing to sign away their souls to protect Ravka. It was the single thing they had in common with the dark summoner. Even if they could not trust him with anything else, they could trust him of that. Protecting Ravka. Nikolai had even agreed to moving the Shadow Fold to their borders unable to come up with any counter solution as his people were slaughtered every day, soldiers, women and children.
When the scales tipped in their favour, she had stood as still as marble, face wiped clean in a room devoid of any celebratory evidence. With only a handful of witnesses, she was tied to him in a simple but binding ceremony.
No, it was not the ghosts of past that woke her. Mind still heavy and clouded by sleep, she slid of the bed, silent feet padding over the thick carpet on a path she had never taken, the pale moonlight flittering over her pale skin. When she stood before the one door in her room she had till now pretended did not exist, her eyes widened as the reason to her restlessness hit her like a sledgehammer. Her heart hammered in her chest when she finally acknowledged the truth. It should feel like betrayal, but she was tired of constantly censoring her own feelings. It was hard to hate him when he had done nothing to earn it since they had all come to an agreement.
He had not touched her apart from slipping that ring on her finger that declared them husband and wife, not even to kiss his new bride. Her too recent grief and cold indifference to him an effective barrier that he did not breach. They had spent their wedding night apart and alone. Even afterwards they were like to strangers orbiting in the same space but never colliding. He left her alone following an unspoken pact. She bit her lip. No not completely true. There were small, almost insignificant things that she had chosen to ignore over time. Somewhere in the deepest recesses of her heart though, every action was listed, recorded, and archived.
The beautiful stems of sapphire blue that bloomed on her bedside table quietly on special occasions. No one knew that irises were her favourite. Warm pastries and beverages that she never ordered but still appeared when she was distracted by mountains of paperwork deep into the night. The soft blanket that ensconced her when she woke from her slumber, her eyes flittering over the candles that she did not remember snuffing out. Intricate pieces of small jewellery that appeared in her collection like they had always been there. Her lips quirked involuntarily. She was probably the only woman in all of Ravka, whose trinkets were not diminished by theft but expanded in an equally mysterious manner.
She remembered the most persistent of sweaty fingers that tugged at her own unrelenting until they suddenly dropped away like hot coal, their owners stutteringly taking leave of her. She had never turned around to see why. Never needed to.
She was not a naïve young girl anymore. She was a woman, forged and shaped by fire and blood, in a war that had cost her more than she ever thought she would have to pay. She was ready to admit the truth. The fact that she could only confess to it, wordlessly and when he was not around, she conveniently ignored. She refused to be that mature about it. Grown woman or not.
She missed him, her husband. His silent presence. His unwavering devotion.
hot
It's past midnight when he returned, earlier than expected. Three months he spent patrolling the edges of Ravka to set up effective border patrols. Not that they were needed as much considering the Fold, but while they wanted to keep their enemies at bay, they still needed to provide crossings for prospective Grisha refugees. He had not planned to hasten his return. There was nothing urgent requiring his attention back at the palace. Compared to his father, the new Tsar was a competent ruler. While they did not agree on all things, they were able to come to an understanding of most matters. Months spend in a tent or back in the luxuries of the little palace, it made no difference to him. The one thing he missed was maybe a hot bath. The other…he tried not to think about.
He had ridden ahead; the rest of his unit would arrive in the early hours of morning. It was quiet when his horse trod into the grounds. The feeling of light relief that accompanied coming home washed over him, but he refused to acknowledge it. Leaving his horse with a stable boy on night shift he swiftly made his way to his quarters. Divesting himself quickly of his Kefta and weapons he made his way to the common baths that would be empty at this time. The opportunity to be able to make use of the space without anyone disturbing him too good to pass up.
He sunk into the hot water, letting out a quiet hiss of pleasure when it washed over his skin. Eyes closing, he propped his head against the back rest letting the heat of the water work on relaxing his strained muscles. Clearing his mind of the thousand things he was responsible for had an unfortunate after effect. Thoughts of her filled his head instead, the physical proximity encouraging them on. He would be lying if he denied thinking about her at all during the past weeks. Being busy, it had been easier to banish her image as soon as it appeared.
Sometimes he questioned his sanity for this self-inflicted punishment. Tying her to him when his mere existence seemed to offend her senses. But then, his eyes narrowed, and a cold look passed through, he rather see her tied to him than to anyone else. Even if all he can do is gaze at her from a distance it shall be enough for now. He would wait for an eternity. He thought of their first moments together, her teasing smiles and glittering eyes and his heart clenched. Now the only one who seemed to be able to coax an elusive smile from her was Nikolai. And every time he witnessed it a cold feeling gripped his heart. The urge to let the shadows grow, let the tendrils reach the King…
His lips displayed a humourless smile. He wondered if the Tsar knew the many times, he had come close to choking to death. The only reason he held back was because he liked to hear her laughter as rare as it was these days, even if it was not directed at him.
His feet made their way to the connecting door, like a moth to a flame. His arm lifting on its own accord but stopping short of the door handle. His yearning to see her almost overwhelmed him but he refused to act on it, and walked over to his bed but stood arrested instead of climbing in.
His eyes widened and he inhaled a deep breath at the vision before him. His wife is curled around his pillow like a cat. In the softly shining moonlight her pale skin glowed ethereal. He swept his eyes over her feathery lashes, the bridge of her nose, her slightly parted lips. The thin nightdress clinging to her soft curves like a second skin. He swallowed and breathed out. She was sleeping so innocently. He drank in her peaceful features that are not looking at him in hate or disinterest. The disinterest is what hurt him the most. He could sit there and watch her all night. Rarely did he get the opportunity to do so uninterrupted. He briefly wondered if he is hallucinating. He dreamed of her often enough during the past weeks. His fingers itched to touch her skin and he wondered if the illusion would shatter. She felt warm beneath his fingertips.
She woke again but this time feels slightly disorientated. When her eyes fixed on his face she remembered and cannot even hope to fight down the warmth that crept up her skin. She hadn't expected him to be back for another week.
She took in his sharp and handsome features. The damp hair curling and falling into his eyes softening his countenance.
"Aleksander."
The name fell of her lips in a whisper. His eyes closed briefly and when he opened them again the naked longing, she spied makes her heart stutter.
"Alina." He said softly but didn't say anything further. His hand moved to cup her cheek but stopped before touching. He did not want to scare her away. He had not heard his name spoken in a long time.
He was about to retract his hand when she made a quick decision. Her own hand clasped around his and she steered it to her face. She leant closer to his ear.
"I am tired of missing you," she told him, her breath warming his neck before kissing him. If he was shocked at her action, it didn't last long. He kissed her back without hesitation, softly at first then more demanding as he leant into her. His other hand gripped her shoulder then slid down to her waist pulling her flush against him. When he finally let her up for air, her heart was beating like a war drum. The desire in his eyes made her shiver in response.
"Are you cold?" He murmured against her lips.
"Not anymore." She smiled and allowed him push her back into the sheets, her arms were around his neck now, pulling him with her, their movements hurried, desperate and greedy.
Hours later when they have burned through the worst of their shared desire, he stirred drowsily to find his wife's warm naked limps still wrapped around his own. He almost feared that any sudden movement would wake her, and that she would flee from his bed into her own. But then he remembered that it was her who took the first step and proceeded to kiss her awake. He made love to her slowly until the dawning light, taking his time to chart her form, utterly consumed with what he discovered, paying more rapt attention to her soft curves than he had to any of his war maps. And when she let him without pulling away, he knew, she was there to stay.
warm
It was a hot summer day when he returned from Shu Han. Trade negotiations didn't fall into his obligations, and he really wanted to wring Nikolai's neck for having made him endure that torture. The fact that the Tsar did not want to leave his own highly pregnant wife did not elicit any kind of sympathy from him. He followed the pull of the bond that he shared with Alina which grew steadily stronger after their first shared night.
He found her in the gardens. Any anger at Nikolai was forgotten, and his eyes softened at the sight of his beloved wife. Sensing his presence, she turned around and a wide grin bloomed on her face.
"Aleksander."
She called his name, her tone full of love, before rushing into his waiting arms, laughter falling from her lips and glitter in her eyes.
He was home. And he basked in the feeling of peace that washed over him.