When there was a gentle knocking on the door, Alina almost didn't notice. Only when Kirigan actually turned the doorknob and opened it did she realize that that had been the noise behind her. The page in front of her had held her attention thoroughly. She ended up taking a double-take though when she did turn around and spy her temporary roommate.

Unlike her borrowed shirt and breeches, Kirigan's attire was still his own. He simply wasn't in as many layers as she was used to. Alina tried to not let her gaze linger on the dark, soft shirt that Kirigan had over a pair of linen pants. She definitely wasn't looking at the way that the front of said shirt was only halfway buttoned up or how his hair was still slightly damp and tousled.

Alina turned back to her task at hand, putting her hands to her temples for good measure to wrench her thoughts back in order. She had borrowed a pen from one of the desk drawers and had been in the middle of a thought. The page in front of her was almost completely filled already, but what had she been saying again?

"Writing to your otkazat'sya?" Kirigan asked. For once, Alina did not hear the hard edge to his question. Or maybe she was just too busy blinking the flush from her cheeks that had risen out of nowhere.

She shook her head and dropped her hand back to the page. He lingered in the corner of her vision. "No, actually. It's to Genya. I was hoping that when we stopped at the next outpost to get warmer clothes that we might be able to send it," Alina answered.

Taking a darting glance back at Kirigan - who was now by the bed, tossing clothes from the bags into a loose collection on a bench for laundering - Alina waited for his reaction. He paused and turned to her with a crease to his forehead. "That's… I have to say that I'm pleasantly surprised," he admitted.

Alina waggled the pen in her hand. "I'm nothing if not surprising," she joked. Then she tapped the writing implement against the wood in front of her and went back to looking straight ahead. There was something improper about looking head on to the General right now. Maybe if he had the top buttons done up it would be more acceptable. He was… too relaxed looking. Too casual.

Alina had spent over a year in the First Army. There was no modesty there. Yet somehow this was worse than catching fortunate - or unfortunate as the case might have been - glimpses of dressing soldiers.

"I sent her a note back with Ivan earlier, actually," she said.

"I did not know that," he said. They had never talked about it before. Alina hadn't wanted to share before. Now she didn't mind so much.

"It was Ivan's idea. Or at least I'm going to give him the credit for it. He had clearly meant for me to reach the conclusion that it was the right thing to do to try and understand Genya for the decisions that she made."

Kirigan made a noise in his throat. "That sounds like Ivan. But this one you decided on your own?"

"As best as I can tell," Alina said with a laugh. It had gone easier than she had thought, talking through the trip so far and her thoughts. It had helped to get some of them out on the page, especially her realization about saying goodbye to Mal. Even if she hadn't done it yet - and wouldn't for a while yet - keeping that as a goal was settling her guilty conscience in a way that she never would have expected.

"I won't disturb you, then."

Alina swallowed back a wave of disappointment when Kirigan let the conversation dip back to amicable quiet between them. She could hear him rustling around behind her. She found her missing thread of thought and wrapped up the letter with a brief acknowledgement of having stormed off without another word to the Tailor. It wasn't an apology for having left - Alina didn't feel she owed her that - but it was at least recognizing that it had happened and that it must have been difficult for Genya to deal with.

She wasn't letting Genya get away with just walking over her with double-talk and subterfuge, but she could at least continue the steps to move on past it. Saints, if she could be sharing a room and a horse and meals with the man who ordered the whole plot, she certainly could hope to rebuild a relationship with the girl who had just been following orders.

Alina had finished just in time, too, because the general was now unrolling one of the bedrolls on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"I can do that for myself in a minute," Alina said. She folded the note and tucked it into the folio, taking care that it wouldn't be misplaced among the other letters or blank pages.

"And why would you have to do that?" Kirigan asked.

Oh, so it was going to be like that, then?

Alina opened her mouth to remind him that the agreement had been plenty clear earlier and then thought better of it. It was much easier - and more straightforward - to take advantage of the opportunity she had crossing the room to deposit the packet of letters into her bag. She was able to abuse the tight quarters and a raised eyebrow to nudge Kirigan out of the way while she went to her bag. And then Alina dropped onto the half-laid out bedroll and simply refused to budge.

"Mine," Alina said simply.

" Alina," Kirigan started emphatically. He still had a spare blanket in the other hand that hadn't been spread out yet.

She crossed her arms over her chest all the while giving him a blithe smile. "I thought that I was 'Miss Safin' right now?"

There was a particular sense of victory that came when Kirigan pinched the bridge of his nose. He grumbled under his breath. Alina only caught pieces of it. It sounded like Old Ravkan and none of it was particularly charitable. He gave one final attempt to convince her to move to the bed, if she would please.

"I told you: I'm not going to let you sleep on the ground another night," Alina protested. "Not on my behalf. I'll live, honestly." She reached up and stole the blanket from him. It was from the inn and delightfully free of any horse scent.

Kirigan threw his hands up before carding one through his hair. "This is where you draw the line. Of course."

"It's not my fault that I'm bad at making amends," Alina replied, only half joking.

"This is making amends?"

She lifted one shoulder. "It could be. I thought it would be some kind of next step," she said. As Kirigan moved away to the side of the bed, she trusted that he wasn't about to try and remove her from her position. Alina fixed the placement of the bedroll and shook out the blanket to properly cover the length of the bedroll and her lap.

Clearing her throat, Alina smoothed the heavy fabric of the blanket under her palms. "I didn't just write a letter to Genya while you were washing up," Alina said slowly. Her heartbeat jumped as she worked to wrangle her thoughts in order. She didn't want to rush into this conversation as recklessly as she had previously. Another advantage from taking the time she had to write down her realizations in the letter.

"You were right, to some degree. In Mal's letters, there was a lot of… misplaced fear and worry. For me. About me being Grisha. About Grisha, really, overall," she continued.

Alina's eyes flicked to Kirigan's face that was now locked on her own before settling back to the blanket. She didn't think that she would be able to match his gaze and finish talking. Her chest had loosened slightly when she didn't see the frustration from last week bearing down on her.

"I had been afraid to see that, and I had been avoiding it. Like I've been avoiding a lot of things. Like I might have avoided my responsibilities in the Little Palace if I had been reading all of that from Mal then." It was a big guess, a big 'maybe', but certainly well within the realm of possibility. She could see what Kirigan had been afraid of. What ranked more important to an orphan than their cobbled-together scraps of a family? Not much.

"I would have been clinging to that past life. That otkazat'sya girl I thought I was. Stubbornly. And stupidly."

"You are not stupid, Alina," Kirigan said softly. He stepped back over to the foot of the bed and sat down on the bedroll next to her. "Stubborn, mmm, I will not comment on," he said with a hum.

Alina rolled her eyes at that and shoved him with her shoulder. "Here I am trying very nicely to tell you that you were kind of - just kind of -" Alina emphasized "- correct and you can't even let me do that," she grumbled.

Kirigan chuckled and then offered a sincere "Sorry" along with a shoulder nudge in return.

"This is where you offer to make your amends, I think," Alina said. She chanced a turn of her head to look at him.

"If it makes you feel any better, you are far from the first Grisha to avoid considering those harsh truths." It didn't, not yet.

Kirigan sighed and tipped his head back to rest against the foot of the bed. "You asked to know the truth for why I had Genya deceive you and hold back those letters. Honestly, I was afraid."

"That I would do exactly this - run off to try and find Mal," Alina said.

He shook his head and then winced. "Not exactly. Yes, I was afraid that you would leave. But not because of the otkazat'sya. I didn't actually care what your reasons were. I didn't consider whether it would be because of fear of the unknown here or loss of your friend. I only saw my own perspective and my own concerns. I was just… afraid. Losing the only chance that I've had in centuries to handle the Fold? That would be unacceptable," Kirigan said emphatically.

His voice became more raw as he went on. "I've been fighting and losing and fighting and just barely scraping by for so long. On my own. As soon as I saw you in Kribirsk and you brought forth that light? I couldn't imagine what it would mean for Ravka to lose you. So I had to keep you at the Little Palace, safe and with our people, no matter what."

Alina's heart jumped up into her throat.

"Even if you did figure it out one day and hate what I had chosen for you... It was all that I could do to make the Sun Summoner see that there was where she needed to be. For Ravka," Kirigan insisted.

"But you must have thought that I could still run away when I did find out, right?" Alina asked, bewildered.

"It was a risk that I was willing to take, clearly."

It had only taken him two days to find her again with his troop of soldiers. The group had been primarily Oprichniki and Heartrenders - a show of force that would have the best chance of success to bring in any captive. Alina drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them.

"You were prepared to take me back at any cost that night," she said. It wasn't a question. It was a fact.

She could feel him move next to her when he nodded. Part of her appreciated at least that he had acknowledged it. He didn't need to.

"What made you decide not to force me to return to Os Alta? Why indulge this whole stupid, pointless trip?" Alina wondered.

That made Kirigan lift his head from the bed. "Because of what you said. I was ready, so ready, to have to drag you back to safety kicking and screaming. I needed you. I still need you," he admitted. "But you said you were going to come back on your own. Even after everything. While you were so justifiably angry for how I had closed my eyes to what you deserved as a person, not just as the Sun Summoner.

"You were going to come back and try again. How could I ask for anything more?"

He had moved to once again hold her face in the palm of his hand like he had on the road just a few days ago. His thumb ran down the curve of her cheek with an achingly soft caress.

Alina hardly knew what to say. She hadn't figured out an answer when she herself had wondered the same about Kirigan that first night together. She'd sat up for her two hours of watch, cloaked in his shadows with their lives in her hands, and wondered just what she had done to deserve it.

She tipped her head into his palm. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to be ready," Alina admitted. He was shaking his head before she even finished speaking.

"Don't apologize. You don't need to. I've long since learned the value of patience."

That made Alina laugh, hard. She brought up a hand to her face and before she knew it they were both leaning on one another trying to stifle fresh waves of laughter that refused to relent.

"A week!" Alina heaved. "You can't even make it a week without bringing that back up!"

"I could!"

She snorted. "Sure. You just choose not to because it's funnier to drive me up the wall," Alina said.

Kirigan lifted one shoulder as he finally stopped laughing. "I won't deny you may be on to something," he admitted. He let out a long sigh.

It felt good to laugh. As much as the air had been slowly clearing, right now Alina finally felt fully relaxed sitting next to the general. Part of that was definitely due to how his hair was falling over his face and the fact that they were both huddled together on the floor like conspiring children. But more so Alina's chest felt light and her stomach was finally, truly free from the knots that had been in place for weeks now. Actually hearing what Kirigan had thought - even if it was just as selfish as she had assumed - somehow helped because they were actually speaking with one another. Alina knew deep down that she had been heard, too.

She bumped her shoulder against Kirigan's amicably. She hoped that he felt the same way, too. "Hey," Alina said quietly. He responded with a nudge in kind. "I'm going to do that thing where you get your own advice back at you."

"Oh?" Kirigan's eyebrow lifted with the word. Alina couldn't resist the grin that came up as he smiled as well.

"One second. I need to put on my serious, Look-I-am-a-General face," Alina said. She shook her head and tried to flatten her expression.

"I didn't realize I had one of those," Kirigan said in a mock-whisper.

Rolling her eyes would mean messing up her attempt to wrangle her face in order so Alina settled for elbowing him in the side. "Of course you do. Why do you think Ivan looks like this all the time? He's copying you," she replied. "Now hush."

Alina cleared her throat and looked up at Kirigan's face. It was harder than she expected to keep from either giggling or turning away and letting the flush creeping up her neck win the fight. Finally she managed to start. "You know that you aren't actually alone, Kirigan," Alina murmured.

"I didn't see it at first because I was so scared and confused at finding out what I had been pushing away all my life; but we are all fighting these same battles together. And we're going to figure them out together. For Ravka," she emphasized. It had surprised her how much she needed to say it. His admission and fears earlier had resonated with her more than she had expected.

When he didn't say anything right away Alina cleared her throat again and looked back down at her knees. "I guess that wasn't as funny as I thought it would be," she said.

"No, but it means a lot to me that you would say that, Alina," Kirigan finally replied.

"Sure."

A finger tapped under her chin, coaxing her to stop staring at her hands in her lap. "Thank you," Kirigan said once she was looking into his dark eyes once more.

"Sure," Alina parroted again.

The slow smile that he gave her didn't do anything to curtail the flush that had fully escaped to her cheeks. "I don't suppose that I would suddenly fare better in convincing you to give up your crusade to sleep on the floor?" he asked unexpectedly.

She did the dignified thing and pushed him off of the bedroll with a palm to his chest. " Go ," she ordered emphatically.

Kirigan's forehead furrowed as he pulled himself upright once more. "What if I try the General Starkov method? Serious face, then right into straightforward demands." Alina had to draw the blanket over her face to hide the abject mortification that rose up. She repeated her previous orders again, praying he would leave. Through the blanket she could hear Kirigan laughing again before he finally stood up once more.

When Alina heard his footsteps stop and the bed creak, she finally poked her head out from the blanket. He had dimmed the lamp on the table and the only light that remained came in through the space between the curtains on the two tiny windows. It was strange now to get to sleep and not hear the sounds of the woods or the horses nearby. If Alina listened carefully she could only hear the occasional snore from the others in the inn. In the time that they had settled in and talked, night had fully swept in.

Kirigan bade her good night and eventually settled in on the mattress without further complaint. Alina smirked to herself, marking it off mentally as another win.

Compared to the scant little camps and alcoves that they had been relegated to, this was beyond luxurious of a place to get to sleep at. But there was something stifling about being indoors now, and once Alina laid down she fidgeted with her blanket constantly as she fought to get comfortable.

"We don't need to keep watch, do we?" Alina asked softly from her spot on the floor. She heard Kirigan stir.

"No, we don't," he answered. Then, a beat later - "Would you feel better if we did?"

She shook her head. "Never mind," Alina said. Even still, every few minutes after flipping over her pillow or throwing off the blanket from one limb or another Alina would stick her head up to look around their tiny room. Nothing changed.

Gradually Alina was able to stop propping herself on her elbow and convince herself that the creak that she heard was not the front door being opened but instead just the beams settling. She wasn't sure if Kirigan was as anxious as she was. She didn't dare poke her head over the edge of the bed to look.

Finally, finally , the bedroll became more comfortable. Alina's limbs grew heavier. She blinked rapidly against the tiredness that was overtaking her before finally letting her eyelids rest shut. Safe. They were safe, she reminded herself.

The floorboards groaned softly and she heard soft footsteps pad over. Vaguely, as though across leagues of distance, she heard her name fall from familiar lips. Alina tried to stir, but she was losing the battle to her body and a long week of slow sleep deprivation that was now crying for repayment of that debt.

When she felt the mattress underneath her and the cool of a fresh pillow, Alina fought against the haze. One eye peeled open as Kirigan was drawing the blanket up over her shoulder. "Not what we agreed," Alina murmured. Saints only knew if Kirigan could even hear her or if she was managing to actually say anything.

"Shh, Alinochka."

Her eyelid drooped shut once more and the pillow coaxed her back to the haze. Her hand found his still on her shoulder on the blanket. "... don't have t' go," Alina fought to say. The warmth tried to pull away. She only held on tighter. The more that she fought, the more that she drifted from the sleep she wanted and needed. Kirigan stilled.

"Stay," Alina breathed. There was more than she could say if her tongue wasn't so heavy in her mouth and her lips weren't so difficult to control. It was the least that she could do, the closest to what they had agreed on. If she wasn't going to stay on the floor then she wasn't going to rescind her offer to keep him from sleeping there.

She didn't let go of him or that thread of consciousness until she felt the mattress bow once again and the blanket shift to cover another body. Then Alina hummed, content, and rolled away to her side.

Alina might not have believed her own memories of what had happened that morning when she awoke. The space next to her was empty on the bed and the bedroll on the ground looked… well it looked like an annoyed Sun Summoner had flopped around on it for a good hour. Maybe someone had slept there afterward. Maybe not.

There was no obvious proof that she had in fact bowled over Kirigan's objections with a handful of incoherent, sleepy demands. He was just as stubborn as she was and could have left once her dreams fully consumed her. Even now Kirigan himself was nowhere to be found, the room holding only Alina and the mid-morning sunlight that had snuck through the space in the curtains.

There was however a small quarter-folded card, handmade from one of the plain pieces of paper from her stash, sitting on the bed stand next to Alina. Once she rubbed away the tiredness from her eyes with the heel of her palm, she plucked it from the table and squinted at the text inside. Alina had to chuckle at the name given on the outside and address.

Miss Safin,

Please excuse my absence this morning. I wanted to get a head start on locating the farrier. I have already asked for someone to hold a plate of breakfast for you, hot of course.

I should not be long. If you wouldn't mind waiting, I anticipate returning not long after noon and we can have a late meal. Otherwise, I have left some money in your bag. Zarya might also appreciate a visit. I think that she misses Harbinger when he is away now more than she lets on. I wonder if she learned that from someone?

Stay warm.

- A.

Alina had to stifle an all-consuming grin that wanted nothing more to stretch across her face with the back of her hand. Somehow even with a makeshift little card Kirigan remained unbearably charming. She let her hand with the card drop down to the mattress while she covered her eyes.

It had been a long time since she had paid attention to anyone besides Mal and thought them to be charming . This hadn't even been the first time that she had thought it, either. Saints, she had told him right to his face. Right before kicking them into the argument they had - in her mind at least - resolved last night.

Groaning at her own traitorous emotions, Alina couldn't resist reading the note through again. Her finger tapped on his sign-off. There was no fancy insignia left on this one, no eclipse and filigree from whatever stamp or signet he had back at the Little Palace. Just one letter, unfamiliar and free from any flourish.

"Pyotr" didn't start with A. Neither did "Ivanov" or "Kirigan" or any other moniker that the Black General went by, unless there was one that Alina was unaware of. Alina was left to wonder just exactly what it meant.

Her stomach grumbled, however, interrupting the deep existential wonderment with higher priorities. If there was one thing that Alina was learning, it was that everything could definitely wait a lot longer to be investigated than they first seemed. And if Kirigan's voice crept into her mental dialogue, well, that was pretty much to be expected at this point. She could be patient. For now.