Chapter 3: Plotting and Braiding

TW: Talks of sexual harassment and sexual assault of a minor.

Alina threaded back to her room alone, while Genya took a detour to the kitchens to fetch them something to eat.

Arriving back into the comforts of her own chambers, she felt a great relief. To say the afternoon with the queen had been tense was an understatement, and she was sure that the arrival of the king at the end was not only due to his obsession with Genya. She had no idea what The Darkling had told the king so far regarding her training, but he didn't seem like a patient man. Surely, he already knew about her little display that very same day in the gardens.

Looking around, she noticed someone had bought back her pencil and flask of ink and placed it on her desk.

She took off her kefta and put on a simple blue nightgown with golden embroidery that reached her knees. Someone had put on a fire, thankfully, and she was quick to stand by it to warm herself, eagerly waiting for her friend to return.

On the one hand, she was excited. Genya was her first girlfriend, and despite having known each other for a few months only, they had grown quite close. As childish as it may sound, the idea of a sleepover made her excited. Before, in Keramzin, she and Mal would sneak out into a corner and play quietly, talk, or just sit there in silence; but none of the older girls had let her play with her since she tended to be very easily tired, and by the time a few other girls came in, she was too old to keep up with them without exhausting herself.

On the other hand, Genya's semblance had been almost sombre as she left her, and that made her anxious. What did the redhead want to talk about? Alina couldn't imagine. Did it have to do with the queen? Had she done or said something wrong? Was she worried about The Darkling finding out about her little lie? Saints knew how their royals asses would react if they knew General Kirigan to be unaware of something, as insignificant as they may deem it.

The Sun Summoner wanted to give the king and queen a few words.

Something kicked the door.

"Open up!"

Alina hurried and did as was asked, and Genya walked in with a big silver tray full of food precariously held in one hand and two bottles of wine in the other.

Alina reached out and took the bottles from her, and with a relieved sound, Genya took a more solid hold of the tray and placed it on top of the rug near the fireplace.

"Where are the glasses?" the summoner asked.

She received a look of disbelief.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Moya Soverennyi, but I only have two arms."

"Right. Sorry." her cheeks turned pink as she balanced herself on the tip of her toes.

Genya stood up and strutted to the wardrobe.

"Please tell me you have something decent to lend me."

She didn't wait for a response as she pulled out a blue nightgown and began to take her kefta off.

Alina turned around, cheeks red, and heard her friend chuckling.

"Scared that I might be your type, Starkov?"

Alina giggled nervously.

"I just…you know, privacy, decency and all that." she cleared her throat, and after a moment of contemplation, with a trembling voice, decided to speak: "Back in Poliznaya, when I first enlisted, they didn't have resources enough for pretty much anything, so all men and women were put in the same room to sleep, and there was only one big bathroom." Alina had to clear her throat once more. "Uh, so, changing clothes was very uncomfortable because some men would just, make comments or look at us weird; and so after a few days, this girl, Maria, decided that we should do a small circle and take turns changing so they would leave us alone."

"Did they?"

"No." she huffed humourlessly. "It made their words harsher, but still, for a while, we stood in the circle, even if it took us longer to go to sleep or wash ourselves, so, yeah, … privacy."

"Did no one ever do anything?" Genya sounded concerned.

"Some guys tried to tell them once or twice, you know, to not do that, and others just gave us our space." Alina sighed. "In the end, we were there for about a year, so we couldn't keep it up. We learned to change our clothes quickly and wash ourselves even faster."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that." her friend said softly, sincerely.

"It's fine." Alina tried to wave it off. "It's not like I was much more than skin and bones back then; I didn't get the worst of it."

She had had her share of inappropriate comments, yes, but after the time one of the other men sneaked up on her and Mal broke his nose, they all stopped.

"What? That's your girl, Oretsev?" the guy had asked, clutching his nose.

"No!" Mal had answered, a little too loudly, a little too quick, nostrils flaring. "But that doesn't mean you can go around behaving like a brute."

The guy hummed, looking more amused than annoyed.

"It's not as if she were much to look at anyways." one of his friends had said, picking him up from the floor while Alina anxiously clutched a shirt to her chest; Mal still standing in front of her, breathing heavily. The rest of the room had gone very silent. She had to get dressed; yet she couldn't move. Mal walked away, back to his group of friends.

"Well, you're more than skin and bones now." Genya said, slightly more enthusiastic. "I think it suits you. You look very pretty like this. And you don't have to turn around; I'm comfortable with you."

"Yeah, I'd rather not. Thanks."

"You're way too nice for this place, Alina." she said, almost pitiful.

"I can manage."

"Oh, you will. And I'll make sure of it. All done."

Alina turned and took her in. The nightgown was blue just like hers, slightly more revealing than the one Alina was currently wearing, and it fitted Genya's figure a little bit tight. Still, she looked stunning as usual.

"It's weird." she said. "Seeing you in something other than white, I mean."

The woman looked down, pale hands running over the soft fabric.

"It is." she conceded, a strange softness to her voice.

"You look nice."

"Darling, I look more than nice." she winked, getting back to the tray of food and letting herself fall next to it.

Alina handed her a bottle, which the redhead opened up and didn't waste time in chugging down a few big gulps. She rose her eyebrows. When Genya passed her the bottle, she contemplated the flames for a few seconds.

"Look, I don't know what we're supposed to do during sleepovers, but it doesn't matter. We have more pressing things to discuss."

"I said something wrong in front of Her Royal Pain in the Ass, didn't I?" Alina moaned, taking a massive sip of the liquid. It wasn't her favourite drink, but she was starting to feel like drowning and anything would do.

Genya giggled.

"No, you managed yourself quite well, in fact." She turned, clear eyes examining her friend's face, "Do you realize what the Queen was doing, Alina?"

"She, …wanted to gossip and belittle some people?"

"Well yes, but she never invites grisha."

"You said she wanted to show me off."

"Yes; and she also wanted intel." Genya leaned in closer as if to share a secret, even though it was just the two of them in the room. "Every one of your lessons is private, and General Kirigan never reports the progress of his grisha to the Royal Family anyways. He's always refused to, and it makes the King furious, but he's too afraid to do anything about it, …for now."

"But I am the Sun Summoner."

"Yes, so the stakes are high." Genya frowned. "If the King knows you're in a weak spot, he'll start to push, and that won't lead to anything good with the General and other Grisha but, …if you make some friends-"

"Like, with Zoya?!"her face was the reflection of her disgust as she took in a big gulp of wine.

"Just in general." Genya placed her forearm on the carpet and took a piece of cheese. "What you have to actually do, is make allies."

"You mean friends?"

"Sure, make some friends." she shrugged. "But also make allies. Don't let the King know that you're isolated. Trust me, there will come a time when you'll need of the others, and you can't always count on General Kirigan to save you."

Alina hadn't thought about it. So far, he had always been there, at the right place, at the right time. Maybe Genya was right, and she had unconsciously relied on him to have her back and catch her before she fell.

"How do I do that?"

Genya stuffed her face with some more cheese and chewed slowly. She shrugged.

"There are several ways. You can't just go to a group and ask them to back you up. Observe. Go one by one." Genya all but pushed Alina to take a big gulp of wine, her fingers firm underneath the bottle as she titled it up. The brunette drank. "Try to bide some time. Make them owe you favours. They don't really have to like you, but if they do, it's better. Have you seen how all of them thrive to be the General's favourite?"

Alina nodded slowly. Eyes had seemed to turn towards her when she first arrived, but since she had kept her non-progress a secret, and her and Kirigan were rarely seen together in public and she was never requested to his quarters, it seemed like the other grisha's eyes had quickly drifted from her. Like she wasn't so important after all.

"Make them want to be your favourite, Alina."

"I already have a favourite." she said with a playful wink, taking a cookie.

Genya shoved her gently.

"I know." she said, voice full of petulance. "But I don't mind you hiding it for a while."

Alina cleaned her fingers off the crumbs of the cookie, looking into the fire, pensive.

So, she needed friends. She had Marie and Nadia already, but it was true that the rest of the grisha didn't stand too close to her. Maybe it was because of how awful she was during Botkin's lessons, or because she refused to showcase her powers and they thought her a snob of some sort. Maybe they just didn't like her. She didn't like some of them either.

She leaned back, her eyes consumed by the crackling fire.

So, observe. That was something she could do. She'd watch them, see their customs, their likes and dislikes, and try to work with that.

Working to become The Darkling's favourite crossed her mind. He was only one person; and if she were to be his favourite, surely some would grow closer to her.

No. She shook her head. They would only come to her as a path to The Darkling himself. Or they would resent her for it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Genya slowly smiling.

"What?"

"That look you got on your face." she said, pointing a pale finger in her general direction. "You're already plotting. That's the same look The General and His Royal Imbecile get when they want to make some manoeuvre."

"I'm just, …pondering on what you said and how to do it."

"Good. And I'll help you where I can." Alina wanted to protest, knowing Genya already had so much on her plate, but the redhead shook her head. "Zip it, Starkov. I will. I'm very good at getting information."

"Oh, really?" she asked in fake mockery. She had no doubts of Genya's resourcefulness. She watched with a smile as the woman kept drinking without pause, and then let the now empty bottle fall on top of the carpet, a few drops ruining its beautiful colour.

"Yes. Now: braid my hair."

Genya

The Tailor did her best not to cringe at Alina's attempted braids; she had done her best.

It was pleasant kind of strange, having a friend. Genya hadn't had one in a long time, since before the grisha discovered them and Kirigan placed her in the Grand Palace as his eyes and ears.

She had learnt much from him; she believed in his cause, and thus, she silently endured the life at the Grand Palace. It was only a small sacrifice for the sake of all grisha.

But friends? No. She had charmed people, made some allies and had plenty of people at her feet who owed her favours she would carefully collect. But she had never had a friend.

The other grisha saw her as a servant only. Even though she trained alongside them with Botkin on several occasions, even though she also endured Baghra's harsh lessons -those were brief, for Genya already had almost mastered her gift by the age of twelve- and she also wore a kefta. But it was white. And white was the colour of servitude.

Alina was the only grisha who seemed to seek her out for the sheer desire of her company; she sought her out to ramble on and on about how she was a fraud -Genya disagreed- and how behind of them all she was.

Genya liked that. She liked Alina. She always asked her how she was doing, how she was feeling, a big smile on her face and her expression open, ready to listen. There was much that Genya couldn't tell her, but she shared what she could, and to her surprise, Alina cared.

So, Genya said nothing when Alina decided she would tailor her and ended up looking like a clown. Well, not quite, but it was definitely a rookie's work. Genya smiled anyways, because Alina had done it for the fun of it, with the best intentions in mind, wanting nothing more than to have a good time with her.

Genya did her face too. Without her powers, and still, she was perfect.

They talked late into the night, of things Genya hadn't known could be talked about to such lengths without getting bored or being malicious. Hm. She supposed it depended on the person one talked to.

They settled on Alina's bed well past midnight, and she apologized for keeping her up so late.

"Oh, please. I'm the only one in this place who doesn't need a beauty sleep." She had said, flippant as she tossed her messy braid behind her shoulders.

They talked so more in the darkness. Suddenly, amongst the chatter and ramblings of her friend, Genya felt an all too familiar weight on her chest.

"I was thirteen." She said quickly, in one exhale of breath that left her shocked.

Although she couldn't see very well, she felt Alina turning on her side to look at her.

"I'll listen, if you want." Was all she said.

Saints bless her, Genya thought, tears in her eyes. She couldn't tell her everything, she didn't think she could stand it, but Alina had figured it out, so that made some of it easier.

"The king gave me odd looks ever since my first day at the palace, but I was thirteen when one night I was asked to go to his chambers." Her voice shook, much to her shame. She felt some ruffling among the sheets, and then a hand wrapping around hers. She squeezed it tightly. "I thought he might want me to do something about that chin of his, "she giggled bitterly. "I was frozen. I was as silent as the dead, and yet...I, I didn't fight back, not that first time. I just, " she made a motion with her hand, and wiped her cheeks. "I just laid there." She tried to steady her breath. "When he fell asleep, I got up. Everything hurt, and the blood had dried in my legs." She turned, barely making out Alina's teary eyes in the dim light that filtered through a window. "The guards escorted me back to my rooms. I kept crying, and one of them offered me a handkerchief. I'll never forget the looks of pity they gave me." She turned back, facing the fabric of the canopy above. "I never let them see me cry again. Ever."

She felt Alina scooting closer and placing both arms around her, and Genya returned her hug.

"It wasn't your fault." She said. Upon hearing those words, never spoken to her before, Genya couldn't help but sob. "He'll get what's coming to him."

Oh, she had no idea.

"Please don't tell anyone."

"Of course not." Alina hugged her tighter and ran a hand through the knots she had made in her perfect hair. "But I'm here; I'll always be here."

Genya's heart softened at that, and she closed her eyes, letting sleep take her in the safety of Alina's arms. Not the Sun Summoner. Not one of the most powerful grisha to ever exist. Nor the Saint; Ravka's only hope.

Just Alina.

Her friend.

When Genya woke up a few hours later, the sun was still in its slumber.

Her arms wrapped around Alina, the other woman had both of her hands wrapped around her forearms, half leaning on top of her.

She noticed the small, wet spot on the top of her nightgown. So Alina drooled in her sleep. Disgusting. Hilarious.

Carefully, Genya got up and got dressed, feeling lighter than before.

Without making a noise, she approached the bed and wrapped the blankets tightly around the summoner, placing a gentle kiss to her temple. She didn't even stir.

When Genya left the bedroom and headed down the stairs, she felt the weight upon her again, heavier, more solid, making her almost want to crumble right on the spot and cry until her throat was raw.

She didn't do that.

She held her head high and advanced with a purpose she didn't really feel on the inside.

The oprichniki at the doors allowed her passage without questioning, and she put one foot in front of the other down the long, dark corridor.

She knocked on a door, and after a moment was given permission to entry.

The Darkling sat behind a desk, an old book in a language she couldn't decipher in his hand. She wondered if he ever slept.

She bowed.

"Moi Soverennyi."

"Well, Miss Safin?"

She reached into her pocket and extracted a folded piece of paper.

"She said this was the last one."

"Did you read it?" He asked as he took it from her hands and opened it unceremoniously.

"I did, sir." She took in a deep breath. "I truly believe this is the end of the problem."

"Good." He replied, his eyes running over the name the letter was addressed at, fingers trailing over the nice handwriting. "You are dismissed."

"Moi Soverennyi." She bowed again and turned, ready to return to the Grand Palace. To real life.

"Miss Safin?"

She looked back, a hand on the door handle already.

"What is that on your wrist?"

She looked down to see the pale skin had turned a nasty red, a few pimples here and there. Smoothly, she ran her other hand over the area, watching as it went back to its previous perfection.

"Just a little experiment, sir. Nothing serious." She smiled.

He nodded slowly, his eyes, as usual, trying to solve a puzzle.

She couldn't tell him...for now.

"Very well. Do be careful, Miss Safin." He said, leaning back in his chair and began to read the letter. "I would hate to lose such unique soldier."

She smiled once more and left before the edges cracked.