Author's Note: This is another re-write of a story I posted here a few years ago originally based solely on the books, but this fiction will now be a mixture of both the book/TV series. It comes with a new face-claim, Sophie Skelton, instead of Sophie Turner. (Upcoming) videos for characters canon and original, can be found on my YouTube channel via the link on my profile.
Story Cover Credit: ocfairygodmother
PROLOGUE
We Have Roots Like The Trees
"You know the child will be like you, like us."
At this, Aleksander steepled his long fingers, grey eyes narrowing. But behind the cold front, uncharacteristic chaos was whirling within the void of his heart, making him feel like Eryk again. Cold, hungry, alone. But most of all afraid.
Baghra studied him, sensing his disquiet despite his dissembling. Once he had sat before her just as still, just as quiet. But he was no longer a boy, yet not a man, having become something else altogether. Yet in this moment, she could still see that little dark-haired boy who listened more than he laughed.
"I know what the child will be," Aleksander then said abruptly, sitting up in his chair, "and I know all too well what kind of world it will be born into."
Baghra tilted her chin, eyes suddenly intent. Here was where the girl had him. Heart versus head. The child inheriting the sins of the father. Everything Aleksander had done was in the name of the Grisha, to make the world safe for them. But for centuries he had failed to achieve this ambition. He had descended into the very depths of darkness but to no avail. Instead the Fold had been born, resulting in the Volcra. He needed a Sun-Summoner to rectify such wrong, which would allow him to precede to the last part of his plan, but to Baghra's relief, no such power could be found, much to his fury.
Aleksander read his mother's face like a manuscript. They had been at odds for aeons now, Baghra turning her back on everything she had instilled in him. Now this child would divide them even further. But even though he didn't want the child any more than Baghra did, he was determined to do his duty by it, its existence only serving to strengthen his will to secure a world where it would be safe. Once he had been that child, alienated and abhorred, living in fear. He had made a vow long ago to himself no other Grisha child would suffer so.
"What about the girl?" Baghra then said, sounding bored, but Aleksander knew better. "She is otkazat'sya, everything you are against."
Aleksander's jaw tightened, thinking of Natasha, with her long amber hair and brook-brown eyes. He'd had his paramours and the favoured few from his students. There had been those with an appetite for power. There had been others with a taste for danger. There was Zoya. Most of their faces he had forgotten as the centuries slipped by. Baghra had warned not to let anybody touch him. And he hadn't. They had touched only the Darkling, not Aleksander.
I'm hoping you could save me now but you break and fold
You've got a fire inside but your heart's so cold…